by Paty Jager
“I don’t plan on anyone but you knowing what I’m doing.” She bit into her sandwich.
“That’s the thing. You start buyin’ these—” he held the list out to her “—everyone in Morgan’s Crossing is goin’ to know what you’re about. And wonder why.”
She took the list and studied it. “I hadn’t thought of that. Just how small is Morgan’s Crossing?”
Isaac took a swallow of coffee to wash the beans down. “There’s a company store, saloon, boarding house for the miners, community hall, the boss’s house, about a dozen cabins and that many tents.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s it?”
“Yep. There’s ten women in town. Eight are respectable and two work at the saloon.” He set down the empty can. “That’s why I was tryin’ to get you to go back. There’s not much in Morgan’s Crossing and everyone will know everythin’ you’re doin’.”
Allie handed her empty cup to him. “I’m taking a walk to the privy, and then I’ll be ready to go.”
Isaac shook his head as Allie marched out of the cabin. He had to give her credit, she had more gumption than most women. Though every woman in Morgan’s Crossing had to have a bit of it to live in such a remote and small community.
He used the coffee to douse the fire, packed all his belongings into the box, and packed it all out to the wagon. Allie entered as he exited the cabin.
Returning, he found his bedroll and blanket rolled up sitting beside her bag on the bed. He grabbed the two things and headed back to the wagon. He’d harnessed the horses before entering the cabin earlier.
Allie stepped out and walked over to the wagon. She didn’t even attempt to climb up, she waited patiently for him to check that the cabin was left as they’d found it and close the door firmly. The next person along here wouldn’t want to chase critters out.
Isaac walked over to the wagon and placed his hands on Allie’s waist. She peered into his eyes. The trust he saw staring back surprised him. From all accounts so far, she wasn’t a person who trusted easily. He turned her around and lifted.
She placed her feet on the top of the wheel as she grabbed the seat, pulling herself the rest of the way onto the wagon.
Shaking his head, he climbed up behind her. He gathered the reins in his hands and released the brake. They’d reach Morgan’s Crossing midafternoon. Once they arrived, he’d have to make a decision. Leave the woman to fend for herself or watch over her. A single woman in Morgan’s Crossing would be trouble. Big trouble. Even though Alan Wagner had spoken very little about his children, Isaac felt obligated to take care of his daughter. He wished, he’d never set eyes on Alan Wagner.
***
Alamayda scanned the wide open plains as they drove closer and closer to the mountains. Living in the flat lands of Kansas all her life she was fascinated by the looming masses of rock and trees. The mountains still had white caps of snow shining on their tops.
Isaac had only stopped long enough midday for them to walk a bit and use the bushes before pressing on toward Morgan’s Crossing. She understood one night alone on the trail with him would be hard enough to prove she’d not been compromised, but two, would really put tongues to flapping. She needed allies in Morgan’s Crossing if she was to find her father’s journal and the mine.
She glanced sideways at Isaac. So far, she felt she had his alliance. And she trusted him. He’d proved his loyalty with his honesty about what he knew about her father and his protection of her with the mountain lion and her reputation.
They traveled around a hill and she saw the town in the distance. There were few trees and none as tall as the cottonwoods at the cabin where they’d spent the night. There was one large building and the rest were smaller.
“You were right. It isn’t very big.” She studied the land beyond the town, more prairie. A wide river with a wooden bridge stood between them and the town.
“The town is set between two rivers. The men like to fish on their days off.” Isaac shook his head. “That’s how I first met your father. We were both fishin’ in the same hole and started talkin’.”
The wagon rumbled over the bridge.
The road forked, the left side curved around what looked like an arm of the mountains they’d been traveling toward.
“That’s the way to the mine. I live in a shack with the other guards.” Isaac pointed to the left. He kept the horses and wagon headed toward the town.
Alamayda swallowed. Now, as they approached the town, all Isaac had told her about being a single female and the miners sunk in. She put her hand on his arm. “Is there a chance I could stay at the mine? Near you?”
Isaac stopped the wagon and stared at her. He shook his head. “The only buildin’ you could sleep in is the guard shack. I share it with three other men.” He nodded toward town. “I’ll take you to Mrs. Tisdale. She might have a bed you could use at her house.”
“She’s married?” Alamayda asked, hoping this woman could take her in.
“She’s a widow. Her son and grandson live with her.” Isaac clucked at the horses and started them toward the town.
“That’s a pretty house,” she said, staring at a two-story gray house with burgundy trim.
“My boss and his wife live there. Michael and Prudence Morgan.”
Alamayda studied Isaac. “Is he going to be upset with you taking four days off?”
“He wasn’t happy. He likes his mine and mill to be watched over. It’s a small outfit and he’s paranoid he’ll lose a flake or two of gold.” Isaac shrugged. “Takes a lot of money to build a company like this. I can see why he doesn’t want to lose any.”
The wagon stopped in front of a log cabin and not too far from a saloon.
Alamayda grasped the side of the wagon seat, preparing to climb down.
“No one’s looking, let me help.” Isaac jumped down and stuck his arms up, waiting for her to lean into them.
She did a quick glance, didn’t see anyone and dropped into his hands.
“Corum, what’d you bring us?” a man bellowed.
Alamayda stepped away from Isaac. His face was red as he reached into the wagon and pulled out her valise.
“Ignore them. Go on up to that cabin and knock on the door,” Isaac said only for her ears before turning to the half-a-dozen men walking over from the saloon.
She scurried up to the cabin door and knocked, keeping her face forward, ignoring the loud voices and laughter going on by the wagon.
A plump woman with snow-white hair answered the door. “Hello. My, what are you doing here all alone? Come in!” The woman grasped Alamayda’s arm, tugging her into the small cabin.
“Mrs. Tisdale?” Alamayda asked.
“Yes. And you are?”
“Alamayda Wagner. My father became sick three months ago and passed.”
“Oh, dear, yes. Mr. Wagner. I remember. Isaac Corum saw to his needs at the end.” The woman’s eyes lit up. “Are you what he needed to borrow a wagon for?”
Alamayda’s cheeks heated. “Yes. I mean. I didn’t realize the inconvenience it would be for him to meet me in Sweetwater Springs.” She pushed away her discomfort and forged forward. “I’m in need of a place to stay for a few days.”
Mrs. Tisdale shook her head sadly. “If my grandson Bobby hadn’t come down with something I’d offer you his bed, but his pa can’t afford to catch whatever Bobby has and neither can I.”
“Is there anyone else who might have an extra room?” She hated pleading for a room.
“You might see if Prudence, Mrs. Morgan, would mind putting you up for a few days.”
Alamayda stared at the woman. It was one thing to beg for a room from this woman, but to do so from Isaac’s boss…she didn’t wish to cause him any more concern.
“Thank you.” Alamayda stepped up to the door and opened it. The wagon, Isaac, and a large group of men stood on the opposite side of the wagon. She drew in a deep breath and marched out to the wagon.
“Mr. Corum, would you be so kind as to
point out Mrs. Morgan’s house?” Alamayda said in the tone she had used to get men to do business with her when they treated her like a child.
Isaac came around the back of the wagon with the men following him. He stopped several feet from her. His eyes questioned, but he said, “It’s that big gray house down yonder.” And pointed to the gray house with the burgundy trim he’d told her earlier was the Morgan’s.
She’d only asked to let him know she didn’t get a room with Mrs. Tisdale.
“Thank you.” She raised her skirt a few inches with the hand not holding the valise and headed down the dusty street toward the fanciest house in town.
Running behind her, stalled her heart. Surely, in the middle of the day, in the middle of the street, no man would be stupid enough to accost her.
Chapter Eight
Isaac had planned to keep his distance and not be associated with Allie. But when she walked out of Mrs. Tisdale’s, her eyes had looked scared even though she’d sounded like a school marm when asking him about the Morgan house.
He knew the others were discussing his loping down the street after the new woman in town. Especially after spending two days with her.
When he was just about abreast of her, she spun in the street swinging her valise at him.
“Whoa! I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, working hard to keep his hands to his sides and not catch hold of her arm. He didn’t want the others to think she liked being handled.
Allie placed a hand on her chest and stared up at him, the valise hanging loose in her other hand. “Why did you run up behind me like that?” The accusation didn’t sting. It was more of an appeal.
“Sorry. Why are you going to the Morgan’s?”
“Mrs. Tisdale’s grandson is sick, and she didn’t have a place for me.” Allie stared at the Morgan house. “Will my asking to stay with the Morgans hurt your job?”
Isaac wanted to be honest, but he was still trying to figure out Mrs. Morgan. She’d thrown some pretty awful tantrums when she’d first arrived and still broke out in one now and then. He ran a hand over his unshaved face and peered into Allie’s worried eyes.
“I don’t know. Mrs. Morgan is temperamental and the boss is head-over-heels for her.”
“What am I going to do?” she whispered.
He wanted to take her into his arms and tell her everything would be all right. This was the first time he’d seen her vulnerable and scared.
“I’ll walk you up and introduce you to Mrs. Morgan.” The shift change whistle blew. “Come on, the shifts are about to change and there’s going to be men filling the street.” He placed a hand on her elbow, escorting her toward the Morgan house.
Whistles behind him sparked his anger. He was only helping the woman, the men really needed to get to work and forget about him and Allie.
At the Morgan house, they walked up the three steps to the porch, and he knocked on the door.
He glanced down at Allie. Her fingers fidgeted with the handle on her bag. He could tell she’d not considered what would happen on this end of her trip.
The door opened. His boss stared out at him.
“Isaac, good to see you’re back. The others have been complaining about covering for you.” Michael’s gaze moved to Allie. “Who’s this?”
“Mr. Morgan, this is Allie Wagner. Alan Wagner’s oldest daughter.” Isaac eased Allie forward.
“Pleased to meet you Mr. Morgan,” Allie said, holding out her hand and shaking with his boss.
Michael’s brow wrinkled. “I don’t understand? You took Alan’s things to Sweetwater Springs to meet Miss Wagner and send her back to Kansas.”
“I did. She—”
Allie interrupted. “I asked Mr. Corum to bring me here. I believe not all of my father’s things were given to me.”
Michael’s eyes became stormy. “You think one of my employees cheated you? Or the company?”
“No! No. I think my father hid something. I wondered if your wife could put me up for a couple days while I look for the item.” Allie’s determined demeanor was back.
Isaac admired her determination to find the gold mine her father had told her about. But he feared she was going to be disappointed.
Michael Morgan backed up. “My wife isn’t here, and I can’t have you staying in my house in her absence.”
Isaac was confused. “Mrs. Morgan was here when I left for Sweetwater Springs, and we didn’t pass her on our way back this way.”
“She left yesterday to see her friends, the Barretts.” Mr. Morgan said. “I told her in her condition she shouldn’t be riding about in a buggy, but she insisted.”
Allie stared at her feet, then up at Mr. Morgan. “Is there anywhere I can stay for a couple of days? I asked Mrs. Tisdale but Bobby is sick.”
Isaac knew there were a couple of rooms over the saloon but that wouldn’t do.
Mr. Morgan shook his head then stopped as if an idea struck. “If you’re only staying a couple of days, you could use the community building. We use it for a church. Someday it will be a school.”
“But I don’t want to be staying in a church.” Her tone said she thought his offer inappropriate.
“It’s empty. We only use it now and then for a church when a minister comes through,” Isaac said quickly.
“You have a school and don’t use it for the children?” Alamayda had never heard of such a thing. Building a school then not using it.
“We don’t have enough children to warrant paying for a teacher,” Mr. Morgan said.
If I were staying, I could teach, flashed through her head, but she wasn’t staying. She was going to find the Wagner mine and be set to do what she wanted the rest of her life.
“I would like to take your offer of the school. I’ll feel safer inside a building. Thank you.” She held out her hand to shake with Mr. Morgan.
He peered down at her hand and finally grasped her hand and shook half-heartedly.
“I can show you to the building,” Isaac said, taking hold of her arm and drawing her off the Morgan’s porch. He also managed to take her valise from her hand.
Alamayda fell into step alongside Isaac. “Will the men leave me alone if I’m staying by myself in the school?” she asked, scanning the men lined up along the large building Isaac said was the boarding house. The building she needed to get into and look for a clue to the mine.
“There’s a board you can put across the door that will keep them out. But be warned, they get a little beer in them and they could come calling at all hours of the night and day.” Isaac didn’t say this with any humor.
“Really? Can’t I write a sign that says not interested?” She could use a piece of her drawing paper and put the sign on the door.
“You can try, but half of these men can’t read.” Isaac hustled her down the street to the last building on the right.
“They can’t read? You’d think Mr. Morgan would do something about that. A man with an education can better his existence.” Alamayda had been adamant her siblings went to school. Even if it meant more chores for her. She’d attended school until she’d started taking care of their mother. Then her mother continued teaching her while Alamayda tended to her daily needs until she passed.
“I don’t think Mr. Morgan cares if they can read. He wants them to work hard and not think about what they could be doin’ besides workin’ at the mine.” Isaac stopped at the building. He lifted the latch and the door swung open.
The building was one large room with hewn benches and a small potbellied stove in the middle.
Isaac set her valise on the floor and closed the door. “This here is the board you can put across.” He picked up a board longer than the door was wide and demonstrated how to put it in the uprights which didn’t allow the door to move.
Alamayda stared at the room. “I’ll need to purchase some blankets to sleep on the floor.”
“We can put several of the benches together…” Isaac moved to the far corner away from the door and the
front windows and shoved four of the benches together. “You can probably purchase a ticking that would make sleepin’ on the benches easier.” He snapped his fingers. “That’s how you can get some of your minin’ supplies. Folks will think you’re makin’ to set up livin’ in here.”
She liked the idea. “But what about Mr. Morgan? He said only for a few days.”
“We’ll worry about that when he starts askin’ questions.” Isaac opened the door on the stove. “It looks ready to start up. This time of year the nights are still cool.”
“Thank you for all you’ve done.”
Pounding on the door startled her.
“Corum, you can’t keep the only single woman to yourself!” Someone hollered.
Isaac shrugged. “This is what you’ll be puttin’ up with.”
Alamayda walked over to the door, lifted the brace off, and opened the door. Half a dozen unwashed and unshaven men stood in front of the building grinning like children in a candy shop.
“Gentlemen, please spread the word I am not, now, nor ever, looking to consort with or marry a man.” She turned to Isaac. “Mr. Corum, would you introduce me to the owner of the mercantile?”
Unfortunately, as they walked through the men she caught the scent of their unwashed bodies and their comments.
“She’s uppity, but she’ll be begging us to consort with her,” said one and they all laughed.
“Yeah, no woman can make it out here on their own,” said another.
Alamayda put her nose in the air and walked alongside Isaac. She wondered what he thought of the comments.
The store was next door to the school. They entered the small dark building. Alamayda was surprised to see not only mining tools and men’s clothes but some fripperies and pretty cloth to make dresses.
An average-sized man with a graying mustache and graying brown hair that was sparse on the top came out of the back room. “Isaac, it’s not payday what are you doing in here?” His gaze dropped to Alamayda. “And with a new female. How do you do, Miss—?”
