A Dream Unfolding

by Karen Baney

  Shortly after the admonition was issued, noise drifted in from the dining hall. The men began to gather with eager anticipation for their evening meal. Hannah pulled the last of the biscuits from the oven, still a little giddy over using a real stove. Betty dished up bowls of the stew and instructed Hannah to place the biscuits in three large serving baskets, one for each table.

  Paul appeared from nowhere and began carrying the bowls out four at a time, skillfully balancing them on his arms. Betty pointed at the biscuit filled baskets and gently prodded Hannah into the dining hall. The second she stepped over the threshold, all conversation stopped and every eye was on her. Heat rushed to her face and she wanted to turn and run. Taking a step back, she was blocked by Betty.

  Seeing the situation was a bit uncomfortable, Betty stepped around Hannah. “This is Mrs. Anderson. She works for me and you will be treating her respectfully, you got that? Now, please show her what fine manners your mamas taught you,” she scolded, nudging Hannah further into the room.

  “Howdy, Mrs. Anderson,” several men said as she neared the table. When she set the biscuit laden baskets on the table, they politely said, “Thank you, Mrs. Anderson.” It was evident Betty was easily able to control the large group of men. Hannah retreated to the kitchen and Betty asked her to help serve the remaining bowls. She suggested Hannah take only as many as she could comfortably carry. Hannah appreciated the respectfulness of the men. After Betty’s warning, she was not sure what to expect. However, once it was clear the men were well-mannered, Hannah felt at ease.

  When the men finished eating, they handed their dishes down to one end, stacking them on top of each other. Paul took the stacks into the kitchen for cleaning while Hannah went around the room for the count of boxed lunches. The process took longer than expected, because the men were inquisitive about the new arrival.

  “Where you from?” one short balding man asked.

  Looking to the kitchen doorway, she saw Betty nod. She answered that question, as well as several more. By the time she had the list of lunches, she supposed they knew half of her life story. The men thanked her for a wonderful meal as they made their way out of the dining hall.

  “You did real good, Hannah,” Paul reassured her.

  “Yes you did,” followed Betty. “Letting the men get to know you like that is a good thing. They will see you as a person, not just a pretty face. And, you’ll find out when you get to know them, most of them are real lonely and are just looking for someone to converse with. They really are a harmless bunch.”

  Once the dishes were cleaned and stowed away, Hannah and Betty crossed into the personal quarters from the kitchen doorway. Betty showed her the dead bolt for both doors, stating that one could never be too careful. Exhausted, the two women retired to their beds. Hannah’s mind was racing, reviewing all of the events of the day. For the first night in ages, she did not think about Drew and fell asleep tear-free.

  Chapter 25

  Colter Ranch

  May 29, 1864

  Will grabbed a change of clothes and stuffed them into his saddle bags. Slinging his holster around his waist, he fastened the belt buckle. He checked the ammunition then placed the revolver in the holster. Too much Indian activity lately to risk being unprepared for the trip to town. Resting his saddle bags on his shoulder, he swiped the egg sandwich Rosa made from the plate on his table.

  Closing the door behind him, he chomped down on a bite of the sandwich before settling the saddle bags on Jackson’s rump. One handed, he mounted the stallion and hupped him into motion. As he moved the horse forward, he finished off the last of his breakfast. Ben followed behind on his mare, trailed by Covington and Whitten in the wagon.

  When Bob Groom rode out to the ranch last week, Will had been surprised to see him. Other than occasionally running into him in town, Will had not seen him since he surveyed his land last fall. Bob stayed for dinner, relaying a great deal of information about the changes in town. He told Will about the town meeting scheduled for tomorrow night. The plan was to name the town and go over some other business. Bob suggested that he attend.

  It was a great opportunity to get to know more of his neighbors. Other than a few men at the fort, the Lancasters, and the men from the Walker Party, Will did not know very many people in the area. With the town officially organizing, many people from all over the area should be there.

  Making some new friends might help with his loneliness, too. More so in the last few months in the empty ranch house. The quiet evenings long ago became too quiet. The more time he spent there alone, the more he longed for a wife and children. He supposed it was the next natural progression in his life.

  He would turn thirty soon. His father had been married for ten years at this age and was already raising two sons. Here Will was, building up his ranching business in his brand new home, alone. He should be content.

  But he wasn’t. He wanted the companionship of a wife. Pretty crazy idea when he’d only seen one or two women since arriving in the territory.

  Will grunted. There was little hope of finding a wife here. At least not right now. Perhaps when more settlers moved to the area. Then again, perhaps he should just leave it in God’s hands—since it would take a miracle to send him a wife in this wild territory. No single woman would venture here on her own. It would be too dangerous.

  Maybe he should write to his sister to see if she knew of a young woman that would be willing to move to the Arizona Territory. Lots of men found their wives that way. What harm would there be in doing that? At least then he would not be so lonely.

  No. Will did not want to commit to marrying a woman sight unseen. How would he know if she shared the same faith or cared to live in the wilderness? How would he even know if he liked her?

  Breathing deeply, the fresh pine filled air cleared his mind. Will focused his attention back on the road. He was starting to lag behind the wagon and needed to remain alert in case of danger. He must have been day-dreaming longer than he thought, for they were pulling into town already.

  Covington called the wagon to a stop in front of Don Manuel Yeserea’s store. The log cabin was the largest building in town and it doubled as both living quarters and store for the young owner from Santa Fe. He came west last fall to set up the store, resupplying with monthly shipments from Santa Fe. Will entered the building to pay for the supplies and then left the work of loading to Ben, Covington, and Whitten before leading his horse to Lancaster’s Boardinghouse.

  After tying Jackson to one of the hitching posts, he entered the dining hall. It was the busiest he’d ever seen it. Looking around for an open seat, Will stopped short when he saw a young woman cross the threshold from the kitchen. She was beautiful—stunning—despite a slightly frazzled look. He stood stock still, following her every movement with his eyes as his heart rate quickened. She smiled as she laid a plate full of food before a diner.

  A man behind him cleared his throat rather loudly, mobilizing Will’s feet. He quickly took the nearest seat, making sure his new vantage point offered a good view of the lovely server. When she turned her face his direction he sucked in a breath of air. Her eyes were the bluest he had ever seen—except maybe once before—mesmerizing.

  The man sitting next to him jabbed in him the ribs with his elbow. “Pretty thing, ain’t she,” he said and then introduced himself, “Name’s John Boggs.”

  What was wrong with him? Ever since moving to this territory, he acted all brainless when he saw a pretty woman. Not that he’d seen many. Just that one at the fort. And this one. And she’s probably married, too.

  “Will Colter,” Will said shaking the man’s hand.

  “Just don’t let Mrs. Lancaster see you gawking at the young lady like that. She might run you outta here.”

  Still watching the young woman closely, Will only paid John partial attention while he shared his background. Originally from Missouri, he came west to make his fortune in a nearby place mine. He stayed at the boardinghouse and on most
days was out mining. With the influx of people for the big meeting tomorrow, he decided to stay in town to get to know some folks. The man enjoyed talking, that was for sure.

  The young woman arrived at their table and greeted John Boggs by name before turning toward Will. “Will you be dining with us, Mr. …?” the young woman hesitated, one eyebrow lifted in question.

  She was even more beautiful this close. Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, Will managed to stammer out his name. “Colter. Will Colter.”

  Propping one hand on her hip, she asked, with an impatient tenor, “Will you be dining with us, Mr. Will Colter?”

  Nodding was the only encouragement she needed. She told him the price for the meal, collected the money, and set the plate of food in front of him. As she moved on to the next customer, Will was left staring after her.

  “Her name is Mrs. Anderson,” Boggs said. “She used to work at the fort serving chow for the soldiers.”

  Will nearly choked on a bite of his food at the news. He looked at her again and suddenly realized why she looked so familiar. She was the woman who collapsed in his arms. Wasn’t she married to that officer? Why would she be working in town if that were the case?

  “Where’s her husband?” he blurted out the question.

  “Oh, she don’t have a husband, least not any more. Heard he was a doctor and he died in an avalanche in the San Francisco Mountains on the way here. They were part of the group that came west with the governor. There was some lieutenant that helped her get the rest of the way here, but I don’t know nothing else ‘bout him.”

  Boggs rambled on about other things while they ate, but Will barely heard a thing he was saying. Mrs. Anderson was unattached, and for some reason that pleased him. He continued to watch her as she moved about the room. She wore a simple green calico dress with an apron covering most of the ensemble. Her hair was pulled back into some twist at the base of her neck. She had a good rapport with the boarders, laughing at some of their jokes and congratulating them on their recent mining success. She was comfortable jumping into conversations while she refilled coffee or brought an extra helping of food.

  Frowning, he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. He needed to stop staring and start eating.

  “Is there something wrong with your meal, Mr. Colter?” concern edged her voice as she refilled his coffee, pointing towards the barely touched plate of food before him.

  Clearing his throat, he frantically searched for an excuse to put her at ease. “Nothing wrong, ma’am. Just listening to Mr. Boggs instead of eating.”

  Chuckling, Boggs replied, “Yeah, I am sure it was me that captured your interest.”

  Will’s face heated as the truth came out. Ducking his head, he hoped Mrs. Anderson would not notice his flushed face.

  “Well, I might suggest you make eating a priority, Mr. Colter, so we don’t have to kick you out when it comes time to start supper,” Mrs. Anderson replied, the humor coating her words. When he looked up again, she flashed him the most brilliant smile before scurrying back to the kitchen.

  Picking up his spoon, he started shoveling the food in, not wanting to disappoint Mrs. Anderson again. As Mr. Boggs excused himself, Will noticed he was the only customer remaining.

  “Will!” Betty exclaimed as she bustled his direction. “A bit early to be bringing in more beef. Are you here for the meeting?”

  As she sat down across from him, he nodded. “Yes. I was hoping you might have a bunk for me for a few days.”

  “Dear, we are filling up pretty fast, but we should have one left in Mother Lode.” Turning her head toward the kitchen, she yelled, “Hannah! Leave those dishes and come in here. I want you to meet someone.”

  Hannah. The name was as lovely as its owner, Will thought.

  Wiping her hands on her apron, Mrs. Anderson moved to Betty’s side. A wry smile played on her adorable lips. She found this amusing.

  “Have you met Mr. Colter?” Betty asked.

  “I see you were planning on staying in the hall until supper,” Mrs. Anderson giggled, eyeing his half-eaten meal.

  Betty smiled. “Will is the rancher I was telling you about—the one that supplies all of our beef.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Colter. Again.”

  “Likewise,” Will said.

  Betty raised her eyebrows, as if she just thought of the cleverest idea. “He is in town for the meeting. Will you show him to the empty bunk in Mother Lode?”

  Mrs. Anderson motioned toward the front door. “This way, Mr. Colter.”

  He stood and followed behind her as she led the way. Since her back faced him, he allowed his eyes to travel the length of her form. She was about the same height as his sister, just the right height for him to drape his arm around her shoulders. The strings of the apron formed a bow accenting her tiny waist and drawing his attention to the alluring sway of her hips. His mouth went dry at the unbidden thoughts aroused by his perusal. Chasing those thoughts from his mind, Will forced himself to look at the ground rather than notice any of her other pleasing features. He was acting like a buck, not a grown man. What was wrong with him?

  She knocked on the door and called out a greeting before entering the Mother Lode bunkhouse. Walking down the line of bunks she stopped before one at the back. “This is the last one left, Mr. Colter. I hope this will do.”

  He nodded, unable to speak.

  “This is the wash room area,” she said, leading him to a small side room with a basin and pitcher of water.

  Leading him back through the front door, she circled around the bunkhouse. “There should be one stall left in the stable for your horse. You’ll have to feed and water him. And, over there,” Mrs. Anderson said, pointing to a small building, “is the necessary.”

  When she turned to face him, Will realized he had been following too closely. She was mere inches from his chest. Swallowing hard, he took an involuntary step backwards as she craned her head to make eye contact.

  Clearing her throat as pink flushed her cheeks, she said, “Well, I’ll let you get settled then.”

  “Ma’am,” he managed a quick farewell before she nervously stepped around him.

  Watching her head back to the dining hall, Will tried to get himself under control. Walking back to the front, he unhitched Jackson and led him back to the barn. Removing the saddle, Will set it aside. He found a brush and began smoothing his horse’s coat.

  Mrs. Anderson had been so close when she turned around. And he had been shocked by the strong impulse to kiss her. He only just met the woman. Knew very little about her. Yet, he was drawn to her. Wanted to be near her. Wanted to get to know more about her.

  Once he finished brushing Jackson down, he pitched a few forkfuls of hay into the stall.

  “Must be going loony,” he muttered to his faithful steed. For there was no other reason to be reacting the way he was.

  ---

  Hannah hurried back to the kitchen. The day was busier than they expected. With the town meeting tomorrow, many area ranchers arrived early and several of the men who typically left for the mines stayed in town. Normally for dinner they had only a handful of men to feed. Not today. Somewhere around forty she stopped counting. Her feet hurt from rushing around and she longed to sit and rest a few minutes, but these dishes would not wash themselves.

  When Paul arrived to fill the wash basin, she had him leave the door propped open. The kitchen was still warm and she needed the fresh air. The unexpected rush of customers left both her and Betty scrambling to finish all their chores. She would have to manage dishes by herself.

  Hannah glanced out the back window as she scrubbed the plate in her hand. Betty pulled down the last of the dry bedding from the clothesline. On her way to Gold Mine, she paused, exchanging a few words with Mr. Colter. He nodded his head and touched the brim of his light tan Stetson as Betty entered the bunkhouse. It would take her the next thirty minutes or so to redress all of the beds with the clean linens. As soon as Betty was don
e with that chore, she and Hannah would need to start supper preparations.

  The soreness in her neck prompted Hannah to rock it back and forth as she set the wet plate aside. Sighing, she started on the next plate, deciding she would wash several in a group before drying them.

  “Need some help?” a deep masculine voice said from the doorway.

  Startled, Hannah jumped, splashing a great deal of water down the front of her dress and apron. Looking down, she cringed at the soaked mess before turning to see Mr. Colter. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with one leg casually slung over the other resting on the tip of his boot. His arms were crossed loosely across his chest. Again she was struck by his height—nearly a good foot taller than Drew. And those golden eyes.

  Remembering her drenched clothing, she quickly turned back towards the dish pan. Heat flamed her cheeks and her embarrassment was complete.

  His voice sounded closer as he said, “Betty thought you could use some help and suggested I make myself useful.”

  She laughed nervously, honestly thankful for the help. She might get a few minutes to rest after all. Nodding her head towards the towel on a hook, she handed him a wet plate. He took both towel and dish, making quick work of the task.

  Feeling awkward in the silence, she picked up the conversation. “So, Mr. Colter, where do you hail from?”

  He took the next plate. “Texas. Born and raised on a cattle ranch.”

  His short answer did nothing to help her feel more comfortable. With most of the boarders, a question like that would result in at least a ten minute answer. Not so with Mr. Colter.

  Trying again, she asked, “How long have you been out west?”

  “Since late last fall.”

  That’s it? Four short words? What a conversationalist! Forcing the frustration from her voice, she kept her tone light, “What brought you here?”