“He doesn’t dote on me.” Linney swiped at a tear. Grabbing a feather duster, she marched to the far corner of the store and began a furious scattering of dust.
Caroline exchanged glances with Martha, who nodded toward Linney. Talk to her was the unspoken message. In turn, Caroline nodded toward Jackson. Distract him. Clearing her throat, Martha said, “Jackson. I’ve a couple of crates of things in the storeroom I haven’t been able to get to. Could you help me unpack them?” She laid an arm across the boy’s shoulders and together they headed out back. As soon as they were gone, Caroline crossed the store to where Linney was dusting—and sniffing.
“You know Jackson didn’t mean to yell. Not really.”
“I know. It’s just—everyone talks about how much my father adores me. And I know he loves me, but—” Tears began to slide down her cheeks in earnest. She moved to the front window and stared out at the sodden landscape. “Never mind. I’ll be fine. I get moody when it rains. You don’t have to worry about me. Really.” She looked over at the checkerboard and forced a smile. “I was just being…sulky.”
“We all get sulky now and then.”
Linney’s dusting slowed. “I know he couldn’t have managed when I was little,” she said. “But he keeps promising we’ll have a home again.” Her voice quavered. “And then he just goes and sells it and doesn’t even tell me.” She sniffed. “Mr. Gray said I remind him of my mother. Pa still has nightmares about her. He talks about her in his sleep. He talks to her.” She paused. “I know he loves me, but Pa can only take so much of me, and now I know why. It’s because I remind him of her. I just wish he’d quit lying about our having a home.”
She touched the feather duster again, tracing its handle as she murmured, “I’m not really angry with Jackson.” She sniffed. “I’m glad he’s going to get a home, even if I’m not. At least not until I grow up and get one of my own.” She gazed toward the storeroom. “I’ve been asking God for a special friend for a long time. I didn’t think it would be a boy. From the city.”
Caroline chuckled. “You know what Mrs. Romano would say about that?”
Linney shook her head.
“She’d say that God answers our prayers with what we need, not necessarily what we ask for.”
Linney pondered that. Finally, she smiled. “Well, I don’t quite understand why God would think I need a friend who can play checkers better than me…but I’m glad he finally sent me a friend.”
“Jackson is thankful for you, too. He may not say it in so many words, but—”
“Oh, he’ll never say it ‘in so many words.’” Linney rolled her eyes. “That’s okay. Martha says a woman has to let a man keep his pride. She says they don’t usually talk about their feelings, but we can see how they feel about us if we pay attention. She says Pa shows how much he loves me when he takes the time away from hunting and trapping to spend time with me.”
“Martha’s a wise woman,” Caroline said.
Linney nodded. “I know. I just wish—” She broke off. Forced a smile. Shrugged. “He’s not like that, you know. He doesn’t hit. I’ve never seen him hit anyone before. Ever.” She frowned. “I don’t know what made him do that. Mr. Gray was being nice. Why would that make Pa angry?”
Caroline’s heart raced as she tried to come up with an explanation. “Well, what you said about men and pride and all? Maybe your pa was a little jealous. I mean, you’re growing up and maybe—”
“Mr. Gray is old enough to be my pa!” Linney shuddered.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Caroline said quickly. “I mean that maybe he realizes that you’re growin’ up and he’s gonna lose you—and maybe he regrets not spending more time with you.”
Linney thought about that for a moment. “I still wish he could just see Linney when he looks at me. And I wish he didn’t get so sad when he thinks about my mother. And I wish we could have a real home.”
Not knowing what else to say, Caroline opted for a hug. It seemed to have a good effect, for a few minutes later Linney hollered into the storeroom, “All right, Jackson Dow, get back out here and give me a chance to beat you!”
“So,” Caroline said, settling next to Jackson on the front stoop of the Immigrant House Saturday afternoon, “did you let her win at least once?”
Jackson grinned. “Of course. I’m not completely stupid.” He sighed. “Besides, that wasn’t really about checkers anyway. For either of us. Linney’s upset about her pa. And I—” He shrugged. Shook his head. “I don’t know how to do any of the things people out here need to know. I don’t know how to drive a team or harness them or saddle a horse or anything. I don’t even know how to dig a hole. And we’re going to need at least a thousand holes to put up the fence Ella says we’re going to need to keep Mr. Gray’s cattle out of our fields.” He stood up and kicked at an imaginary rock. “I’m a dud.”
“Jackson Dow…” Caroline rose and grasped him by the shoulders. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. I don’t know the first thing about gardenin’ or cookin’, and to tell you the truth I’ve always been a little afraid of cows, but I don’t consider myself any kind of dud. I’m gonna earn my keep. But I’m just plain scairt sometimes. Some of the stories I’ve heard this week about how snakes and mice like to live in the walls of soddies…” She shuddered.
“Aw, snakes and mice won’t hurt you. Unless they have rattles.” Jackson grinned.
“Well, you just keep that attitude handy, because I’ll be callin’ on you if any kind of critter decides to come to my side of the house for a visit.”
Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Jackson gazed up the street toward the livery.
“We never did go see if Mr. Ermisch has any horses I could learn to ride.”
“You’re right. I turned my ankle and then we got all caught up in other things.” She looped her arm through Jackson’s, and together they headed toward the livery at the opposite end of the street. “While we’re up there, we can see if that horse trader brought in anything new. Ella’s impatient about gettin’ our own team, and I can’t say that I blame her.”
“Howdy.”
Caroline looked up to where Otto Ermisch stood peering down at them, pitchfork in hand. At the sight of Caroline, he tipped his cap. “I’ll be right down.” And with that, Ermisch virtually dropped through the hole in the haymow floor to the earth nearby. “Sorry to say the horse trader hasn’t been through yet. Maybe he’ll show on Monday.” He frowned. “Although I guess that’ll be a mite late, won’t it?” He scratched his beard. “Wish I knew what to tell you.”
“Well, there’s more to this visit than the search for a good team. Jackson needs to learn to ride.” Caroline summoned her most charming smile. “Now, I realize a businessman can’t just turn his horseflesh over to anyone. Horses are valuable commodities, and you can’t have just anyone taking them out. I remember a time when my daddy let some fool ride his Pacer—” She shook her head. “Of course I never rode such a monstrous creature as that. My little mare was a Morgan. Shiloh had the sweetest canter a lady could wish for. Of course, with a Morgan a person doesn’t exactly try to clear fences, but Shiloh had the heart of a steeplechaser. Whatever I asked, that li’l mare tried to give.”
Having let Mr. Ermisch know that while Jackson might be a novice around saddle horses, she was not, Caroline continued, “Now, I told Jackson we’d have to ask permission to see what the livery has to offer. You don’t just stroll into a barn and make yourself t’home. Not if you know what’s good for you.” She shrugged. “I guess it was mighty clear I don’t know much about work horses the other day. Saddle horses, on the other hand—”
Ermisch grinned. “Tell you what, Jackson. As long as you’re with this little lady you are welcome in my livery anytime.” He gave Jackson a friendly slap on the shoulder even as he spoke to Caroline. “Watch the big bay with the white here.” He tapped his forehead. “He bites. And of course watch where you’re stepping. I’ve been running behind all day
and haven’t mucked the place out as well as I should.”
Together, Caroline and Jackson headed toward the double row of stalls stretching between them and the back doors. As they walked, Ermisch opened those doors and the aroma of warm horseflesh and hay wafted their way. Caroline inhaled. “I love that smell.” The next aroma wasn’t quite as pleasant, and she chuckled. “I don’t even mind that one so much.” They paused at the first stall when a sorrel mare whickered and thrust her head over the door.
“That’s Maude,” Mr. Ermisch called from the back. “She’s mine and she’s an unrepentant beggar. She’ll nibble on your pockets, but she doesn’t bite. She’s just hoping for a treat. And she doesn’t really care what it is, as long as it’s people food.”
Jackson shied away as the horse thrust her head against his chest, but presently he was laughing as she snuffled his pockets. “Hey,” he said when she lipped his jacket. “It only smells like horehound. I ate it.” The horse sighed as if she understood him. “Well, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll bring you some directly.” He called out to Mr. Ermisch. “Is it all right if I bring Maude a treat?”
“Sure. But be warned. She never forgets a treat-bearer. She’ll hound you for the rest of your born days every time she sees you.”
“Go ahead,” Caroline said, nodding toward the mercantile. “Bribery isn’t a bad way to get to know a horse.” She smiled. “I’ll wait here.” She meandered down the stalls alone after Jackson left, looking over the individual horses. One was swaybacked, another shied away from the human hand, one ignored her, and another nibbled at her coat playfully. True to form, the bay Ermisch had warned her about bared his teeth the minute she got near his stall. Sadly, there didn’t seem to be a good prospect for a greenhorn boy wanting to learn to ride.
The cadence of an approaching horse sounded from the direction of the street. Caroline turned around just in time to see Matthew Ransom astride a paint pony, a big-boned pack mule in tow. Jackson came trotting into the livery just as Mr. Ransom dismounted. Stammering a hello, Jackson unwrapped a peppermint and shared it with the mare.
Matthew fumbled with both his hat and his words. “I…uh…thank you for being a good friend to Linney. Martha said you’ve been a good listener since—” He broke off. “Since her pa behaved like a raving idiot.”
Well. At least he has that right. “Linney’s a wonderful girl,” Caroline said. Thanks to Martha.
Matthew nodded. “All the credit for that goes to Will and Martha.” He looked down at the hat in his hands. “And her ma. She’s a lot like her ma.”
“So I’ve heard,” Caroline said. And then for some reason she waded right into a situation that was really none of her business. “Linney thinks that’s why you can’t stand to be around her.”
Mr. Ransom frowned. “Can’t…stand…?”
“Yes. After you laid Lucas Gray out cold on the mercantile floor, Linney told me you don’t like being around her too much because of how much she reminds you of your wife. Of course, I told her she must have misunderstood the real reason behind your bein’ gone for—what is it now—nearly a week? I told her a daddy would never punish a child like that. That havin’ a living, breathing reminder of someone you deeply loved would be a wonderful thing. Like a gift from God.”
“A gift.” Ransom murmured the words, as though he’d never thought of them before.
“Well, hello there, Matthew.” Otto Ermisch strode up and offered his hand. “Glad to see you back in town.” He nodded at the pack mule. “Looks like you brought just about everything.”
Ransom nodded and handed Ermisch the paint’s reins before untying the pack mule’s lead. “I’ll walk Barney around back. I can unload things right in the door that way.”
Ermisch smiled. He glanced at Caroline. “This man is the best carpenter I’ve ever seen. You ladies need anything done for that new place of yours, Matthew here is the one to hire. Wagon building, shingle cutting—anything that involves wood, he’s a master.”
He turned back to Ransom. “I’ll put this guy in that back stall for the night and give him a real good rubdown. You can just turn Barney into the corral out back. There’s fresh water and I’ll get some feed before too much longer.”
Mr. Ransom nodded. “I was…uh…hoping I could hire a buggy tomorrow.” He glanced Caroline’s way even as he spoke to Ermisch. “I’ve been gone without an explanation for nearly a week, and I may have to hog-tie her to get her to do it, but I want to take Linney to see what Jeb Cooper has done with the homestead. And with her ma’s grave.” He paused, then directed his next comment to Caroline. “It seemed like a good idea to do something about all the promises I’ve made over the years.” He pointed to the pack mule’s load. “My things from the dugout. Vernon Lux next door offered to let me stay in the back room of his store. It’s not what I promised—yet—but it’s a beginning.”
Something in the man’s blue eyes as he looked down at her made Caroline forget for the moment that Matthew Ransom represented one long list of problems she wanted nothing to do with. She almost reached over to touch his arm, but instead she clasped her hands behind her and said simply, “Linney will be thrilled.”
“Will Haywood told me about Cooper’s fence around Katie’s grave,” Ermisch said. “The man who would do something like that—well. Some say Cooper’s a little odd. But I say he’s all right. More than all right.” Ermisch rubbed his jaw with the back of his hand as he said, “Now, about the buggy tomorrow…Mrs. Jamison and the other ladies spoke for it most every day—”
“—we’ll be fine,” Caroline interrupted. “We can manage with a wagon or two. No one will mind. We’re…partial to Linney.”
“Well, then.” Ermisch nodded. “That’s settled.” He called back to Jackson, who was still rubbing behind the mare’s ears while she stood, eyes half closed. “Here ya go, son,” he said, and handed Jackson the reins to Ransom’s paint.
Jackson’s eyes grew round as he stared up at the horse.
“He won’t bite,” Ermisch said, and motioned toward the back of the barn. “Just lead him back there to that last stall on the left. I’ll be there directly, and you can help me rub him down.”
Jackson looked embarrassed. “I don’t know how to do that.”
“Well, that’s all right. Patch is a good old boy. Just the kind of horse to learn on. You walk that way and he’ll follow.”
When Jackson hesitated, Caroline spoke up. “If you’re going to own a horse, you’re going to have to be taking care of it. There’s no time like the present to learn.”
“That’s right,” Ermisch said. “Can’t be afraid of hard work if you expect to be around horses.”
“I’m not afraid!” Jackson said, his tone defensive, and he headed toward the stall with Matthew’s horse in tow.
Movement across the street caught Caroline’s eye. Lowell Day was leaning against the front wall of the saloon, his arms folded, his head bowed. He likely wasn’t even looking this way, but the idea of walking back to the Immigrant House alone had lost its appeal. It was probably just her imagination, but just as Matthew headed through the barn and out the back, Caroline could have sworn she heard someone whistling “Dixie.” She decided to walk back through the livery and watch Jackson work with Patch. At least for a while. She’d take the back way to the Immigrant House when the time came.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Let them be confounded and put to shame that seek after my soul: let them be turned back and brought to confusion that devise my hurt.
PSALM 35:4
Caroline had made her way back to the Immigrant House when clouds moved in and obscured the sunset she’d been watching from the front stoop. When a steady drizzle began to fall and Jackson still hadn’t returned from the livery, she headed inside to the kitchen, where Ruth was busy serving up hot tea while Hettie spread out the various lists again. As the sky grew dark Zita lit more lamps and set them in a row down the center of the table. Presently all six ladies gath
ered for the last meeting before Monday’s move out to the Four Corners.
Caroline spoke first. “The horse trader hasn’t come through yet, so I don’t have any good news to report about a team. Mr. Ermisch is hoping maybe Monday—of course, with us leaving early that mornin’ I guess we’d better hope plenty of neighbors show up to help us out, or we’ll be in a fix.” She sat back with a little frown. “Do y’all think we should delay leavin’ town until we have our own team?”
“Will says we can count on plenty of help,” Ella said.
The back door opened, and Mavis Morris trundled in. “What you can count on,” she said abruptly, “is getting work and husbands right here in Plum Grove. Mrs. Haywood needs help and so will the other business owners the minute those places across the street open up. There’s just no need for y’all to pick up and move out to the middle of nowhere.”
“Well, now, Mavis,” Sally said. “You’re just missin’ one little thing, and that’s the fact that we don’t want ‘jobs and husbands right here in Plum Grove.’”
“That’s what you all keep saying.” Mavis shook her head. “I guess you’re gonna prove it or die trying.” She changed the subject. “You might as well know Martha’s appointed me manager of the Immigrant House.” She glanced around the table. “And I’ll need a cook or two to keep things running, so if any of you has a moment of sanity and decides to stay put, just let me know.” She walked toward the doorway on the north wall leading into a small storeroom. “I’m turning the back room into my private quarters. So I’ll be working at that while you all have your meeting.” She headed for the storeroom, talking as she moved. “Don’t mind me. I don’t need any help at all. I can handle things just fine by myself. All I have to do is move one of the cots in here. And my trunk. It won’t take long—”
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