Life in Georgia had been rather dull, she admitted. There were the same faces, same humdrum dinner parties with no real direction in her life. Flirting with the most eligible bachelors in Atlanta had been fun. The men had vied for her attention, but Drew had all but told her they would have a life together. She cared for Drew, but there was no real passion, no inner spark that made her look forward to their next meeting. Maybe those were just dreams of what love was supposed to be like.
She wanted the same kind of love that her parents had had.
Her heart grew heavy when she thought about them, but she remembered God’s promise that she would see them again. She took great comfort in that, and it gave her peace of mind. Without it, she knew she had no hope at all.
Crystal donned a full skirt the color of a ripened peach, trimmed with gray piping, and a pristine white pleated blouse. She grimaced at her reflection in the mirror. She wished she were tall like Kate.
The jingling of spurs drew her attention to the front porch, and she pulled back the curtain just as Kate and Luke walked into the yard, talking about the trail drive.
“We should plan on movin’’em out in the next few weeks, while the weather is in our favor,” Luke told Kate as he rolled his lariat into a neat spiral.
“Better hire on a few more hands then. I’m going to Steamboat. Why don’t you come along and see who you can find?” Kate turned in time to see Crystal at the window and waved at her to join them.
Crystal threw her wrap around her shoulders and went outside. Luke turned, shifting his weight to one side with his hand on his hip. She couldn’t see his face and was glad that his hat was slung low.
“Mornin’, glory,” Luke said with a lopsided smile. “Did you get your beauty rest?”
Crystal controlled the urge to snap back at him. “Yes, I did. I feel refreshed and ready to tackle the day.”
“Good.” Kate shaded her eyes from the sun with one hand. “How’bout riding with us to Steamboat for supplies this morning?”
“I’d love to.”
Crystal could see Luke’s moustache twitching at the corner of his mouth. She felt sure her answer had surprised him.
“All right then. Better hustle and grab some grub. Rusty’s hitching the buckboard.” Kate motioned in the direction of the barn. “We’ll be there waiting for you.”
Crystal hurried back inside to eat a biscuit and wash it down with a quick cup of coffee, then dashed back out to meet them.
The ride to Steamboat Springs seemed to take much less time than Crystal’s first ride from town. It was a crystal clear morning with a cloudless sky. Thimbleberry shrubs grew profusely along the road, their white flowers giving rise to red berries. Indian paintbrush dotted the summer landscape, and asters prospered. They bumped and rattled their way up the trail, but Crystal didn’t mind because she was going to town. Since the train depot was on the edge of Steamboat, Crystal hadn’t gotten a good look at the shops the day she first arrived. She looked over at Luke, who was riding alongside the wagon on his horse, Buck. Even in the saddle he was tall. He held the reins in his hand, clicked through his teeth to Buck, and guided him with gentle pressure on the reins. She stared at his profile. His thin, pointed nose; his dark, trimmed moustache; and his worn hat, curled at the sides with a sloping crease at the crown, created a pleasing image for Crystal. Today he had chosen a black leather tight-fitting vest, unbuttoned, and a red chambray shirt that complemented his dark good looks.
Luke must have felt her eyes boring holes through him because he turned to look at her. She forced herself to look away.
To Luke’s way of thinking, her choice of clothing wasn’t practical, with her stiff white blouse and dainty slippers of gray to match the trim of her dress. In place of her lace parasol, she wore a hat the size of a boulder with wide peach sashes that dwarfed her slight frame. A gold locket hanging from her delicate neck nestled on her ample bosom and winked up at Luke while the sun’s heat beat down. If she thought those things on her feet would carry her through the muddy streets of Steamboat, she was in for a surprise.
“I’m glad I’m not a woman trying to impress the opposite sex,” Luke grunted.
Kate shot him a quizzical look. Luke responded with one of his incongruous grins.
The first things Crystal noticed about Steamboat were the activity, the bustle of wagons, the riders on horseback, and the muddy streets. The hastily built frame shops were plain, their wood and paint now bleached a dull gray from the harsh chinook winds and blizzards. Her heart sank. Shopping here was not going to be like shopping in Atlanta. She tried to hide her disappointment when Kate told her that the general store stocked everything a body could want.
When they pulled up in front of Franklin’s Mercantile, Kate climbed down from the wagon. “Luke, me and Crystal will meet you for lunch in one hour at Flo’s Café.” She turned and called out to the owner, John Franklin, who was sweeping the porch of the store, and with hurried steps made her way toward him.
Luke looped the reins over a hitching post and gave Buck a treat, nuzzled his neck, then continued on down the street, apparently engaged in his own world. He left Crystal standing in the wagon, waiting to be helped down. He adn’t even looked back. He needed to be taught a few lessons in manners. What was his hurry? Hurrying was so undignified anyway.
She fretted with her heavy petticoats, which were hung up in the brake of the wagon.
“Here, let me help you with that before you topple,” a voice called out from the store’s porch.
Crystal stretched out her gloved hand to the stranger while he unhooked her dress from the brake with great care so as not to tear the peach-colored material. He helped her down from the wagon. “I’m Josh McBride. You must be Kate Morgan’s niece from Georgia.” He was heavyset, and his light brown eyes smiled back at her from his clean-shaven face. His jeans were brand-new. Not a spec of dust showed on his brown boots. His brown Stetson hat, in the same shade of brown, had been steamed and rolled with care. “I’ve heard all about you.”
“You’re too kind.” Crystal said, flustered by his frank, appraising look. He continued to hold her hand in his big one. She could feel the strength of his fingers through her gloves. “I’m Crystal Clark.”
“I’m very glad to make your acquaintance.”
Kate stuck her head out of the dry goods store, and the bell clanged loudly. “Come on in, Crystal. Oh, I see you’ve met Josh. Are your parents in town?” she asked him.
“No, ma’am,” he replied. “I’m here with my sister, April. She’s browsing around in the store today. Doggoned if I know what for.” He chuckled and turned again to Crystal. “Good day, ma’am.” He touched his fingertip to the brim of his hat, clearly admiring her.
Crystal felt two hot spots stain her cheeks, and she hurriedly moved inside the dry goods store.
“See you at the party Friday night, Josh?” Kate asked.
“We wouldn’t miss it!” he called back over his shoulder as he started down the boardwalk.
“Josh.” Kate tapped him on the shoulder. “Can I speak with you a minute?”
Josh paused. “Sure. What’s up?”
“You go on in, honey. I’ll be there in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” Kate instructed her niece.
Franklin’s Mercantile was the center of daily life for the bustling inhabitants of Steamboat. It also served as the US Post Office and the “place to find it all under one roof.”
The practice of merchandising had served as a vital element to the prosperity of John Franklin and his family. His success had carved him a prominent place in the community. He was a fair but shrewd businessman, knowing when to extend credit and when to withhold it.
For the townsfolk, the mercantile store was more than just a mere store. In the winter, it served as a meeting place to exchange bits of news while many a yarn was told around the warmth of its huge potbellied stove. In the summer, its shady porch provided a good excuse to stop and gossip or talk about the weather, which
was the normal topic of discussion. It had a unique odor of its own, mingling leather, wood, apples, and tobacco.
Crystal gaped in amazement at the tall bolts of material stacked precariously and at row upon row of canned foods and other sundry items. Leather harnesses, tack, and the like were on one side of the store, and clumsily built racks near the back held molasses and whiskey in large barrels. Another wall held tonics, herbs, shaving cream, and soaps.
She strolled over to the shelves. Perhaps some new toilet water for Friday night?
Two young women, heads bent together, were examining a length of ribbon against blue calico, but when they saw Crystal looking at them, they stopped. One of them walked toward Crystal.
“May I be of assistance?” she said. She was older than Crystal had first thought as she drew closer. Her hair was pulled back into a severe chignon, not one strand of hair escaping, and her black heels rang out like pistol shots when she crossed the hardwood floor.
“I’m Mary Franklin.” When she smiled, her dark brown eyes twinkled, as though she found everything in life amusing. She moved with enthusiasm while straightening the fabric bolts, pausing long enough to push her spectacles back up over her long, thin nose.
“How do you do, Mrs. Franklin? I’m Crystal Clark, Kate Morgan’s niece.” She shook the proffered hand. “I’m just browsing.”
“My, my. All the way up from Georgia, I hear. I hope you enjoy your visit out West. Kate and I are good friends, and she’s told me all about you.” She turned and motioned for the blonde to join her. “April, meet Crystal, Kate’s visiting niece.”
Crystal watched as the tall girl carried her willowy frame with self-assurance to Mrs. Franklin’s side. Her beautiful, cascading curls hung almost to her waist and were held back off her high cheekbones with a blue gingham ribbon. A brown felt hat hung down her slim back. Her enormous blue eyes raked over Crystal with an icy gaze, though her lips were smiling.
“Kinda outta your territory a bit, aren’t you?” Her greeting was uttered in a cool, detached voice.
Friendliness in the South was as common as flies on a watermelon rind, so April’s rudeness took Crystal quite by surprise. She squared her shoulders, stood as erect as her five foot two inches would allow, and answered in her most courteous manner.
“Maybe so, but clothes can be changed to suit the occasion, unlike temperaments and attitudes, which require much more control.” Crystal stared at April’s jodhpurs and black riding boots, hoping her meaning was obvious to the pretty girl. “Besides,” she drawled, “I think I’m beginning to like these mountains and the wide-open spaces.”
“Crystal, what a beautiful hat,” Mrs. Franklin exclaimed, reaching out to touch the ribbons adorning Crystal’s hat. “Isn’t it, April?”
“Why, yes. But more suited to garden parties in the South than out here in the West.” Her eyes rested on Crystal’s bosom. April was tall and graceful even in riding clothes, but she would never forgive God for not endowing her with an hourglass figure. Whenever April complained about her bosom, her mother would say she wished hers were no bigger than a hickory nut. Alice told her daughter that having a décolletage was a nuisance. But that did little to improve April’s desire for a shapelier figure.
Crystal felt rebuffed and, as April implied, a bit overdressed. But she tossed her head back and laughed as though April’s words didn’t affect her at all. She turned to pick up a pair of pants and said, “Mrs. Franklin, might you have these in my size? And, oh yes, I’ll need a pair of good, sturdy shoes. I’m afraid that I shall ruin these before the day is out.” She glanced down at her own kid slippers. They were more suited for indoors, but she didn’t need that tall beanpole with blonde hair telling her what to wear and when.
She chuckled under her breath as April stormed off. “Is she always so nice?” she asked Mary.
“Goodness, don’t mind her! She’s so spoiled by that father of hers. I declare. She was just miffed because you’re a sight for sore eyes and unmarried, therefore her enemy. You are one of the few brave enough to put her in her place.”
Kate returned from her conversation outside with Josh. The floorboards squeaked as she joined them. “All set, Crystal? John has everything loaded, so we can go on over to Flo’s and have a bite to eat.”
“I just need to wrap these britches up. We are out of anything small enough to fit her feet, but I’ll send off an order right away.” Mary folded the pants.
“Just put it on my account, Mary,” Kate said.
“I have money, Aunt Kate.” Crystal groped in her handbag.
“Nonsense,” Kate said. “A few more dollars one way or the other won’t break me.”
“Well, if you insist. Thank you.”
Kate looked down at Crystal. “Having you here, girl, is thanks enough. Mary, I’ll be seeing you out at the party come Friday night.”
Mary waved and then winked conspiratorially to Crystal. Crystal liked the kind older lady. Josh was just driving his wagon off as the women emerged from the store. He grinned and looked as though he was about to slow the wagon to a stop, but April scowled at him and said they must be hurrying.
Flo’s Café wasn’t much to look at from the outside. But inside, the homey atmosphere and delicious smells invited its patrons to settle down at any one of its numerous tables covered in bright red tablecloths. The same red-checked material adorned the gleaming windows, allowing the customers to view the activities of the bustling cow town.
Crystal and Kate had been waiting for almost a half hour for Luke to arrive. “Where in tarnation is he?” Kate asked to no one in particular. “Let’s go on and order our lunch, Crystal. He must have stopped off to chew the fat with Lars, our local smithy.” Kate motioned for Flo, who lumbered over to their table.
Flo’s gray hair was twisted into a knot on top of her head, and the heat of the kitchen kept a constant flush on her round cheeks. Her starched white apron was loosely tied around her ample waist. She stood next to the table, arms akimbo.
“What can I serve up for ya today, Kate? We got steak and gravy simmered in onions or vegetable stew.” Flo turned to Crystal. “And who might this young lady be?” she bellowed, causing the other patrons to stare at Crystal.
“This here is my niece, Crystal, from Georgia.” Kate beamed, tilting her head upward to smile at Flo.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Crystal. Now, what’ll it be today?”
Both of them decided on the vegetable stew, which was served with slices of thick, crusty bread. Crystal drank several glasses of water. “My throat has been dry since the day I arrived,” she said to Kate.
“That’s because the air is so dry out here. You’ll get used to it.”
Their conversation soon turned to ranching and Crystal’s future.
“I’d like it if you would stay on here for good, Crystal. You are such a bright light in my life right now. Besides, I always wanted children.” Kate looked at her with so much affection that Crystal wasn’t sure what to say.
“Thank you. I do like what I’ve seen so far, and I’m looking forward to meeting new people at the party that you are being so gracious to give for me.”
They chatted about the trail drive and community affairs.
“Aunt Kate, why will you take the cattle to Denver to sell?”
“Because we’ll get a better price per head in Denver, although a wealthy banker by the name of Henry Gebhard is in the process of building a slaughterhouse in Steamboat as we speak. Besides, since the railroad isn’t yet opened up into Wyoming, and we live south of Steamboat in the valley, it just makes better sense.”
“I can’t wait to take you to church so you can meet everyone in the community,” Kate said. “You’ll like Reverend Alden. He preaches the Word, pure and simple, and he’s not married.”
Crystal giggled and assured Kate that she wasn’t looking for anyone. They finished up the delicious stew and bread.
Flo had convinced them to have a slice of apple pie with their c
offee when Luke pulled up a chair and sat across from Crystal. Pushing his hat back, he grabbed Flo by her thick hand and said, “I’ll have the steak and gravy, and you might as well go ahead and bring me that pie with it. Nobody can beat your cooking, darlin’.”
“Oh, go on with you! I’m used to being charmed by the likes of you!” Flo laughed with obvious affection.
Kate seemed more interested in the reason they had come to Steamboat in the first place. “What kept you, Luke? Did you sign on anyone for the trail drive?”
“Yes, ma’am, I did. Five to be exact. Up from Durango most of’em, looking for work. Sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you ladies up.” He looked at Crystal.
“Manners don’t seem to be your strong suit, Mr. Weber,” Crystal said. “A gentleman always removes his hat indoors, and he doesn’t keep a lady waiting.”
“Is that a fact, Miss Georgia Cracker? Maybe a gentleman does, but not a cowboy. The only time a real cowboy removes his hat is for a funeral, a wedding, or church. A cowboy likes to keep his hat close by in case he needs to get out in a real hurry. That thing you call a hat on your head is big enough for two barnyard owls to roost in.”
Crystal felt her face burn at his reprimand and glanced at Kate, who looked amused at the two of them arguing. Before Crystal could think of an appropriate retort, Kate looked at Luke and nodded to him, indicating that he’d better remove his hat. Grinning at her, he flipped it over the back of the empty chair.
Talk centered on the particulars of the trail drive, and both women watched in amazement as Luke wolfed down the steak and gravy and polished it off with two large pieces of pie and what seemed a gallon of coffee.
The afternoon ride back to the ranch proved to be very hot. Not even a breeze obliged them, and the ranch with its few cottonwoods surrounding the porch was a welcome sight. Kurt waved his hat in greeting as they rode past the corral, where Jube was breaking in a new mare. Crystal waved back, and Kurt hurried over to help her down.
No Place for a Lady (Heart of the West Book #1): A Novel Page 4
