by Barbara Goss
“We aren’t selling,” Laura repeated.
“We’ll be back.” He winked. “You’ll change your mind.”
The two men rode off toward the main road.
“Who are they?” Max said, walking toward Laura and Caro.
“I don’t know. They were here once before. It seems they want to buy our land.”
“Hmm.” Max rubbed the back of his neck. “I seem to recall when we had a tornado hit in a nearby town in Texas. Con men came around trying to buy everyone out cheaply, and then, when the town built itself up again, they sold what they’d acquired for three times what they’d paid for it.”
Laura shook her head. “How sad that there are people who would try to capitalize on someone else’s misfortune.”
Max opened Edwin’s old logbook. “Did you catch their names, Laura?”
“Yes. Otis Farley and Bart McMann.”
Max jotted the names down. “Next time I go into town, I’ll see if anyone has heard of them.” Max turned and walked back to the stables, and Laura and Caro went into the house.
After having had lunch with Laura, Caro, and Dawn, Max grabbed his hat and started for the door.
“What’s your plan for the afternoon?” Laura asked.
“Well, Dexter let all the horses out in the fields for exercise this morning, and now he’s gone to the neighboring farm for more hay, so, I thought I’d ride out and drive the horses back in and stable them before we leave for town.”
“They usually come in on their own when it’s meal time,” Laura told him.
Max laughed. “I still think I’m dealing with cattle, I guess.”
“I thought we could ride to town and send those telegrams.”
“I’ll saddle our horses,” Max said. “Or would you rather take the buggy?”
“I think I’d like to ride,” she said. “While you’re saddling the horses, I’ll put Caro down for a nap.”
“Is the town always this quiet?” Max asked Laura as they tied their horses in front of the telegraph office.
“No, just since the quake.”
“Let’s take a look.” Max helped Laura slide from her horse and he guided her down the wooden walkway to stand in front of the telegraph office. He stopped and peered in the window.
“There’s a woman in there.”
Laura leaned in close to the window and shielded her eyes. “I don’t know who she is.”
“Should we knock, or just walk in?” Max asked.
Laura shrugged. “It’s a public building, so let’s just walk in.”
Max opened the door and the woman turned their way.
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
Laura spoke first: “I’m Laura Ben…I mean, Laura Winters, and this is my husband, Max. We’re from White Oaks Ranch, and we’d like you to send a telegram to a few people in the area.”
“My name’s Della Smythe,” the woman answered. Her hair was pinned up in a fancy hairstyle and she wore makeup, something Laura didn’t see very often.
Laura walked closer to the woman to see her better. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. Are you new in town?”
Della laughed. “Goodness, no, honey. I worked at the saloon for years.”
“Do you know how to send telegraphs?” Laura asked, trying not to act shocked by her profession.
“Yes, I do,” she said. “My father was the telegraph person in Tillamook. When Clem Harris, our telegraph operator, was killed, I came here to keep the place open. It took me a while, but I’ve managed to remember all the codes.”
“That’s amazing,” Max said. “All those dots and dashes—how did you ever remember all of them?”
“It wasn’t so difficult. I used to fill in for Clem now and again.”
Max handed her a sheet of paper. “This is the ad for the newspaper.” He dug into his pocket and gave her another piece of paper. “ I need a telegram sent to these people. Use the same message as in the newspaper ad.
“Do you know anyone who makes posters?”
“No. You might try the newspaper office, but I think it’s still closed. Do you still want a telegram sent to them?
“Yes, just in case someone is there.”
Della was already tapping away, sending their messages before they'd left the office.
Chapter 5
“How about I treat you to supper at the café?” Max asked Laura as they were mounting their horses after having left the telegraph office.
“I’d love to, but if Caro wakes up and we’re both gone, I’m afraid she’ll panic.”
“Then we’d better get home,” Max said. “We can do it another time. I hope Caro gets over her anxiety soon.”
“She’s already a little better.”
When Max and Laura reached home, Max took the horses to the stables and Laura went in the house to check on Caro.
Dawn told Laura that Caro was still asleep, so she went upstairs and peeked into Caro’s room to see her lying on her bed with her dolly clutched in her arms. She backed from the room and went back downstairs. “What’s for supper, Dawn?” Laura asked when she entered the kitchen.
Before Dawn could answer, Max came crashing through the kitchen door. “Someone’s been here!”
“What?” Laura asked.
“I had all the stalls with horses that were to be sold tagged with red ribbons, and not only are the ribbons gone, but the horses are in different stalls. I have no hint as to which horse is which.”
“Did you ask Dexter?” Laura asked.
“He was off today. A relative of his died from injuries stemming from the disaster. He went to the funeral today.”
Laura tapped her chin with her forefinger. “Someone knew he’d be gone.”
“Who would benefit from doing something like that?”
Laura shook her head. “I don’t know. Hopefully, Dexter can help you sort the horses out. I think he knows most of them.”
Max sighed and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “This is beyond frustrating.”
Laura turned to Dawn. “Did you see or hear anything while we were gone?”
“No,” Dawn answered, “it was quiet.”
“Mama!”
“Oh, that’s Caro.” Laura sped to the stairs. “Don’t worry, Max. Dexter and I will help you sort things out.”
That evening, Laura and Max sat in the sitting room, mulling over the day’s events.
“I can draw some; maybe I can make posters for the sale to hang in town. Tell me what they should say.”
“That would be great,” Max said. “He handed her a paper from his breast pocket. “I have it all written out. I was hoping the telegraph person would know of someone who could draw the poster.”
“I’m no artist, but I can do lettering.”
Max took out Edwin’s old logbook and crossed “poster” off his list.
“Tomorrow’s church, so we have to get our chores done early,” Laura said. “Dawn has the day off, so we’ll have to forage for our dinner.”
“How about we have a picnic dinner after church.”
Laura clapped her hands together. “That sounds marvelous! We’ll go to the river. Caro will love that.”
“Dexter’s off on Sundays, too, Laura. I hope we can leave the ranch for a few hours without having to worry about vandals.”
“Max, don’t worry. Dawn will want to stay here. She has her sewing circle on Sunday afternoons. Oh, and no one works on Sunday.
“Dawn said she’d sit on the porch with the group and do some knitting, so she can be our lookout.”
“Well, then, let’s just enjoy our picnic and not worry about a thing,” Max said, standing. “I think I’ll turn in so I can get up a bit earlier.”
Laura stood, too. “I’ll go up with you. Dawn will close the house up for the night.”
When they were standing outside their bedrooms, Laura stepped on her tiptoes and prepared to kiss Max’s cheek like she had the night before, but Max turned his head and she ended up kissing his lips. She
tried to back quickly away, but Max held her against him for a few seconds longer.
“That was lovely, Mrs. Winter,” he whispered. “Can we do that every night? You know, as sort of a ritual? We are married, and it will help us get to know each other better.” When she continued to stare at him instead of answering, he added, “It will help us feel more comfortable around each other.”
She looked up at him shyly. “Heaven knows we need that.”
“We do.”
Max dropped the arm that was holding her. “Goodnight, Laura.”
“Goodnight, Max.”
As Max, Laura, Dawn, and Caro rode the buggy to church, Max asked Laura, “Does the church have a minister yet? Since the disaster, I've noticed many businesses have been left without owners.”
“No minister, but Rhys Huber, one of the church elders, is taking over until we get one,” Laura told him. “That’s only when Ambrose Skinner isn’t in town—you remember: the circuit preacher who married us."
“Reverend Paul Edmonson was such a wonderful minister,” Dawn said. “He died a few years ago. We need another man like him.”
Max really didn’t care one way or another. He was only enduring church for Laura’s sake. It did feel good to have a day off from work and get dressed up, however. He was looking forward to the picnic later, too.
They took their seats in the little whitewashed church. Max noticed it had some broken windows, but it still looked quaint. He also noticed that women, older men, and children made up the majority of the congregation. There were a few men his age, but not very many of them. There were also a lot of empty benches.
The woman who played the piano at the front of the church motioned for the congregation to stand. Max stood along with everyone else. Laura held an open book out and nudged him. Everyone began to sing. Max simply stared at the book. How could he sing when he didn’t know the song?
The few times he’d been to church before had been different. His friends had been Catholics, and it wasn’t the same at all. He felt lost and he wondered if Laura would guess he wasn’t a regular churchgoer. He leaned over and whispered, “I can’t carry a tune.”
Laura didn’t say anything, but she smiled at him. When the song was over and everyone had resumed their seats, a man came out and led them in prayer. Max bowed his head along with everyone else. Strangely, the prayer was different than any he’d ever heard before. The man didn't recite the prayer from a book. He sounded like he was talking to God. One might have thought he was talking to a friend; how unique.
After the prayer, everyone said, “Amen,” aloud. Max was relieved that he wouldn’t need a prayer book or have to memorize any prayers in order to pray—he could just talk to God instead. He liked that.
The sermon served to baffle Max. The man read a passage from the Bible, explained what the passage meant, and gave examples. The passage was hard for Max to fully understand, so he listened intently to hear the explanation. He talked about a fiery hell and how people could be saved from it if they believed in God and his son Jesus Christ. The man said, “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved.”
Well, he thought, he must be a believer. Someone had to have made the earth in all its perfection—the tides and the moon mixed together to be used as tools by man. The earth gave man everything he needed: the sun for warmth, the night for sleeping, the stars to guide ships, medicines for healing, and beautiful scenery for man’s enjoyment. Yes, he decided, there must be a God. Max was a believer, but he had never been baptized. He didn’t want to spend eternity in hell—certainly not. He had a lot to digest.
Max helped Laura spread the tablecloth on the ground, while Caro sat her doll upon a rock and told her that if she didn’t behave, she’d have to go back into the buggy. Max and Laura grinned and stifled a laugh.
Laura opened the basket and brought out the food, plates, and tableware.
“I never ate outside before,” Caro said. “Can Annabelle sit by me?”
“She may,” Laura said sternly, “as long as she doesn’t eat up all the dessert.”
“Mama, Annabelle said I could have her dessert.”
Laura laughed. “I’ll bet she did.”
Max leaned against a tree with his legs stretched out in front of him and set his full plate on his lap. “This is really nice—a beautiful day with my beautiful, new family.”
Laura smiled up at him. “It is nice, isn’t it?”
“May I have dessert now?” Caro asked.
“I’m glad you used ‘may’ instead of ‘can,’ but you didn’t eat all of your dinner yet.”
“Mama, that’s just the bread. I ate what was inside of it.”
“Very well.” Laura took a cake out from the basket and cut them each a slice.
After they’d eaten, Laura and Max packed the remnants of the picnic up and put them into the basket.
Max stood and brushed off his pants. “I fear I’ve over-eaten. Who wants to go for a walk with me to work some of it off?”
“Me!” Caro cried. “Can Annabelle come, too?”
Max laughed. “She can if you think she can keep up.”
“She can because I’ll carry her.”
“Laura?” Max asked, holding out his arm.
She slid her arm around his. “Why, thank you, sir. I’d love to.”
Max held Laura's hand as they walked along the shore of the Columbia River. Laura looked up at him and smiled. Caro and Annabelle trailed behind them, carrying on an animated conversation.
“I really love being a family man,” Max whispered to Laura. “If you'd have told me a month ago I’d be in paradise with a wife and daughter, I’d never have believed you.”
“This is all new to me, too, Max. Edwin never did family things or even paid much attention to Caro,” she whispered back.
“He doesn’t know what he missed.”
Laura felt the same euphoria she thought Max was feeling. It was the loveliest day, they’d had a wonderful meal, and now, with him holding her hand, it was exhilarating. When she’d set out to find a husband, she never thought she’d find one so perfect. She thought she might wake up at any moment and find it was all a dream.
“Will you be able to retag the horses you wanted to sell?”
Max squeezed her hand. “I’ll figure it out. I can study Edwin’s notes again, and Dexter will be back tomorrow. He’ll help.”
“You know, Dexter's really better suited for manual work.”
“He’s a good man; he just needs more confidence.”
“If you say so, Max.”
“Help!” Caro yelled.
Max and Laura spun around to see Caro sitting on the ground, clutching her doll.
“What is it?” Laura asked.
“It’s Annabelle. She said she’s too tired to walk anymore.”
Max laughed. “I thought you were carrying her.”
“But she’s too heavy.”
Max reached down and scooped them both up. He put Caro on his back and she wrapped her chubby legs around his waist. “Now, you hold Annabelle tight, because if she falls and I bend down to pick her up, you’re liable to fall into the river.”
Caro’s hands tightened around Max’s neck. Annabelle hung by one arm across his chest.
Max motioned to Laura that they should head back to the buggy. She nodded, and they turned around. As they walked, she covered her mouth quickly to stifle the sound of her laughter.
“Max,” she whispered, “Caro is asleep.”
“No wonder her head is so heavy on my shoulder. Quick, grab Annabelle before she drops her.”
Laura pulled Annabelle from Caro’s fingers. “She’s exhausted.”
Max smiled. “Maybe we’ll do this every Sunday.”
When they reached home, Max carried Caro up to her room where he handed her off to Laura and whispered. “I’ll take care of the horse.”
Laura put Caro into her nightgown, tucked her in, and kissed her goodnight.
She went down to the si
tting room where Dawn sat reading a book. “How was the picnic?”
“It was delightful. Was everything quiet here?”
“Yes,” Dawn answered. “I sat out and knitted all afternoon. The sweater for Caro is finished, and I started on a scarf for Max. I know he can’t be used to the colder climate here.”
Max came into the room with a worried look on his face.
“What’s wrong, Max?” Laura asked.
“I fed the horses before we left, and none of them have returned to the stables. I looked out in the pasture, and there isn’t a horse in sight.” He gazed at Dawn. “What happened?”
Dawn shrugged. “It was quiet here. No one came near the place. I sat on the porch all day.”
“I’m going to ride Hunter out into the pasture and see what’s going on.”
Chapter 6
Max stood in the middle of the pasture, gazing all around. Where could the horses have gone? The pasture was fenced in. As he rode the circumference of the yard, he noticed a break in the west fence. Max looked more closely and saw that two posts had been sawed through.
Having been a cowboy, Max always had a coil of rope attached to his saddle. He knew how to round up cattle—how different could it be to round up horses?
The ground was soft, and he followed the horses’ tracks into the woods. Max walked for several minutes before coming to a clearing. He saw the horses nibbling on something there. Max rode closer and noticed someone had put a pile of hay in the field and that most of the horses were crowded around, eating it, while others romped around the meadow, having already satisfied their hunger.
He heard a horse and rider approaching and turned in his saddle to see Dexter.
“What happened?” Dexter asked, noticeably out of breath.
“Someone sawed an opening in our fence and threw hay over there, keeping our horses here rather than running back to the stables to eat.” Max sighed. “Now I need to get them all back to their stalls.”
