Rob grinned at him. “You’d better make certain.”
Dan looked from one to the other, seemingly uncomfortable. Anne decided anything she could say would only worsen the situation, so she busied herself with cutting her meat.
“There now, leave the boy alone,” Elise said. “Eb, could you please pass the biscuits?”
“Mr. Stone,” Dulcie said, “I’ve been wondering what would happen if you go back to England. Would you feel safe with your cousin still about?”
“That’s a good question,” David said, frowning. “You see, before Peterson died—that is, the man who wanted to kill me—he said that my cousin wasn’t the one paying him.”
“It sure seemed like that was what he meant.” Dan shot Anne a quick glance and then looked away. He was just as glad to have the subject changed, she was sure, even if it was to a gruesome topic.
“But who else could want you out of the way, Uncle David?” she asked.
“I’ve thought about it a lot, and I’ve come up dry. Perhaps we’ll hear back from Mr. Conrad in a few months, and he can tell us if there’s any evidence that my cousin was behind it all. Meanwhile, I intend to go on living.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Rob said. “Now, tell me, sir, will you be buying horses for the stagecoaches, or mules?”
The talk went back to the business for quite some time. When the meal had ended, the ladies cleaned up the dishes. When Elise went out to hang her dishcloth on the clothesline, she came back with a message for Anne.
“Dan says when you’re done, he’d like to have a word with you. He’s out on the side porch.”
“Oh. I was going to sweep the floor,” Anne said.
“I’ll do it. Fetch your cape and go on. Don’t keep that young man waiting.”
Anne smiled at her. “I always did obey you, Elise.”
“Yes, you were an exemplary child.”
A minute later, Anne was out the kitchen door. Dan jumped up from his perch on the porch railing.
“Anne! I was hoping I’d get a word with you.”
“Take several, if you’ve a mind to.”
He smiled, and the worry lines eased out of his face. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you too deeply at dinner.”
“Everything you said was true.”
He stepped a little closer, and her heart beat faster.
“Anne, I do hope you’ll stay. I didn’t mean to presume upon your thoughts about the matter, but a few things you said on the ship…”
She looked up into his gray eyes, usually so calm. Today they seemed a bit anxious. “I meant to encourage you. Am I horrid for being so bold?”
He smiled and reached for her hand. “I almost said, ‘Do you mean it?’ but I know you wouldn’t say so if you didn’t. Anne, are you truly thinking you might make your permanent home here?”
She chuckled, conscious of her own ingrained sense of propriety and his even stronger reticence. “That depends on so much, Dan.”
“Oh?”
“Dare I say it depends on you?”
He caught his breath. “Anne, my dearest, if you would marry me, I’d do everything in my power to keep you happy. I wouldn’t stick you off on the farm, away from your friends. You could be here in Corvallis, near Elise and Dulcie. And I wouldn’t work you to death at the stage stop.”
“I’m not afraid of hard work, Daniel.”
“I know you’re not. But I wouldn’t like to see you worn down by it. I spoke to your uncle about it. He said we should hire a cook and a couple of tenders for the animals. He thinks we can do that and still make a profit.”
“We shall see about that—about hiring a cook, I mean. Having extra help would be nice, though.”
“Oh Anne, does—” He dropped to one knee and held her hand in both of his. “Will you, Anne? Will you marry me?”
She touched his cheek. “Yes, Daniel. I think we shall have splendid adventures together.”
He sprang to his feet and pulled her into his arms. “Oh Anne, if it gets too tame, we’ll take a ride up into the mountains.”
“Lovely—so long as we don’t encounter any cutthroats or grizzly bears.”
He frowned for a moment. “I can’t guarantee that. You and your uncle seem to attract swindlers and assassins. I’ve never seen a grizzly bear, though.”
She eyed him askance. “Oh Daniel! Kiss me, or I’ll retract my answer.”
Without another word he complied, and quite handily.
On the last Friday in March, Dan’s brother, Hector, rode down from Champoeg and stayed with him at the small house he’d bought in Corvallis. After breakfast on Saturday, they dressed in their best. Dan put on the suit he wore to church each week, a new shirt and tie, and the silk top hat Hector had persuaded him to buy.
They walked over to the little church where Eb and Elise Bentley had been married in the fall. The minister greeted them. They sat down in the back pew, talking quietly. Dan’s stomach was a bit on the roily side. He got up and walked to the door and looked out. Two riders had just entered the churchyard.
“Here’s Eb and Elise.”
Hector came out and greeted the Bentleys with him.
“How’s the farm?” Eb asked Hector, whom he hadn’t seen since they’d disbanded the wagon train in late October.
The two were soon engrossed in talk of crops and livestock.
“Where’s Anne?” Dan asked Elise.
“Her uncle’s bringing her in the wagon. But they were waiting for Rob and Dulcie.”
Dan nodded and took a deep breath.
Elise smiled and touched his sleeve. “You look fine today, Daniel. How do you feel?”
“Not half bad.” He grimaced. “Well, maybe half.”
Elise laughed. “Anne is very excited, but she won’t let on.”
“No, I don’t expect she will.” It gave him a perverse pleasure to know that his coolheaded bride was nervous, too.
“How are things going?” Eb asked. “Anne says the stage line opens next week.”
Dan grinned. “That’s right. We’re all set, and we’ve had people buying tickets already. Mr. Stone’s got the station in Eugene set up, and we’ve got two stops along the way where we’ll change teams.”
“I admit I wondered this winter if it would all come together for you,” Elise said. “I’m glad it has.”
“Thanks.” Dan didn’t mention his main motivation—he’d promised Anne to have their house bought and furnished and the stagecoach station operational before the wedding. She hadn’t insisted on it, but Dan didn’t want her to jump into marriage and the chaos of setting up the business, too. He was confident that with her uncle’s guidance for the next year at least, the line would succeed. “David’s been a really hard worker. When something didn’t want to happen, he grabbed both ends and made it work.”
Eb laughed. “What about those swindlers? Any word on them?”
“No. The marshal thinks Millie and Sam have left the territory.”
“Good riddance,” Elise said. “Anne got a letter from England day before yesterday, you know.”
Dan stared at her. “No, she didn’t tell me.”
“The solicitor says Mr. Stone’s cousin denies having anything to do with Peterson or the attempts on David’s life. He said there’s no evidence that Randolph Stone was involved.”
“Huh.” Dan frowned at Eb. “What do you think about that?”
“I think the cousin’s lying. What other explanation can there be?”
Elise shrugged. “At least no one’s tried to harm David since he left Scottsburg in November. I hope that’s the end of the matter.”
A team of horses pulling a wagon clopped into the yard.
“There’s Rob and Dulcie,” Elise said, waving to them. “David and Anne won’t be far behind. Daniel, you’d best get inside now. Can’t have you seeing Anne before the ceremony.”
Dan grimaced at her. “That’s silly.”
“Come on.” Hector laid a hand on his shoulder. “I
f the bride wants to follow some harmless tradition, what do you care?”
“That’s right. It’ll be worth it,” Eb said with a wink at Elise.
Dan went back into the church with Hector. The minister met them halfway down the aisle.
“Most of the guests are here,” Hector told him. “We’re apprised that the bride is on her way.”
“Oh good, good,” the minister said. “Perhaps you gentlemen would like to come to the front of the church. I’m sorry we don’t have an organ, but Miss Stone had me engage Harold Scully to play his fiddle. He just came in the back door.”
A gray-haired man wearing a passable black suit and carrying a violin stepped forward and nodded to them. “Gents. It’s a pleasure.”
Dan and Hector shook his hand.
“Harold plays at all the dances,” the minister said.
Dan eyed him with some trepidation, but Scully laughed. “It’s all right, sir. I can play slow tunes, too, and hymns.”
A flurry at the door drew their attention. Eb, Elise, Rob, and Dulcie entered, along with several other women Dan recognized from church services and one man looking rather ill at ease. They all sat down on the benches, and the minister walked over to greet them.
He returned a moment later. “Mr. Adams, I’m told the bride and her uncle are ready. How about you?”
Dan swallowed hard and looked at Hector, who chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder.
“He’s ready, Parson.”
Dan nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The minister nodded to Scully, who began to play a soft, sweet melody. The door opened once more, and Dan straightened his shoulders and looked toward it. David Stone held the door while Anne squeezed her voluminous skirt through the doorway. She smiled at her uncle through the filmy veil that hung from her bonnet.
Dan’s stomach lurched. She wore a dress fit for Queen Victoria herself—white, with ruffles and flounces and bits of lace. And Anne’s face shone. She held his gaze as she walked slowly the length of the aisle, holding David’s arm. Dan hardly glanced at the tall Englishman, but he had an impression of an immaculate, finely tailored suit of formal clothes worn by a handsome man of substance.
They reached him, and David stood between him and Anne for a few minutes while the minister welcomed the guests and offered prayer.
“Who gives this woman in holy matrimony?” the minister asked.
David Stone took a deep breath. In his cultured tones, he said, “In the absence of her beloved parents, I do.”
He moved aside and placed Anne’s hand in Dan’s.
Dan gazed down into her trusting brown eyes.
“Daniel,” the minister said, “do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and to cherish, to have and to hold from this day forward?”
“Yes, sir.”
Behind him, Eb and Rob chuckled.
Dan said quickly, “I do, sir. I most assuredly do.”
Discussion Questions
1. Anne has devoted nearly a year to looking for her uncle. At what point should she decide it’s time to give up?
2. Dan knows from the beginning that Anne does not want to marry him, yet he joins her on her quest. Give two good reasons for him to do this—and two for him to put it to rest and go home.
3. Millie’s morals slither all over the place. Was she justified in selling Andrew’s pies and keeping the money? Name two other unethical things she did in the story. If you knew she was wearing a stolen dress, what would you do?
4. Why didn’t David write to his family? Based on this, do you think Anne’s expectations of her uncle were overblown?
5. What did you expect transportation, commerce, and communications to be like in 1855 Oregon? How did the characters cope with the primitive methods they had to use?
6. Do you think Millie is redeemable? How about Sam? Peterson?
7. If you were Anne, and Sam stole your horse, would you turn him over to the constable, knowing he might be hung for the offense?
8. How is Anne’s quest as much a search for herself as it is for her uncle?
9. Anne suffers a great deal of anxiety over the fate of Bailey, the horse she borrowed from Rob Whistler. How does this compare with Sam’s feelings about the blue roan?
10. How was Millie affected by her theft of David’s things from his hotel room?
11. Anne has gone through nearly all of her annual allowance, but she hates the thought of borrowing from anyone. Unlike Millie, she can’t just steal a few dollars. What would you recommend she do in her situation?
12. Anne is surprised that her uncle isn’t eager to rush back to England. What is keeping him in America? In Oregon?
13. Why didn’t Millie want to stay with Sam at the end of the story? What do you predict for Millie’s future?
A LADY IN THE
MAKING
CHAPTER 1
1857 The Dalles, Oregon Territory
You lied to me, Sam.” Millie Evans peeked out the window from behind the half yard of muslin that served as a curtain. Outside the shanty they rented behind the feed store, a tall man with thick, dark hair and a week’s growth of beard stood smoking a cigarette.
Millie turned back toward Sam and glared at him. “You said you were looking for a job, but you went and found that despicable man and brought him back here.”
“I was looking for a job,” Sam sputtered. “But I couldn’t find one, and then Lucky turned up.”
“Oh, sure he did. Like a bad penny. I suppose you just happened to be in the saloon when he dropped out of the sky.”
Sam cringed, and she shook her head in disgust. “I came to The Dalles because you told me we could make an honest living together. Big laugh that turned out to be. And now you’ve brought him here. I told you before, I will not go live with a pack of outlaws.”
She stalked to the wall and pulled her apron, extra dress, and shawl down from where they hung on nails and threw them on her bed. She stooped and felt underneath the end of the bed frame for the handle of her worn valise. Listening to her half-brother was the biggest mistake she’d ever made.
“Aw, come on, Millie. I just want to make things better.”
“Better?” She pulled out the traveling bag and plunked it on the bed. “How is going into crime better?”
“You can have better things. You know. Clothes and—and jewelry, maybe. Lip rouge, stuff like that. It’d be better than scraping by like we are now.”
“Is that what you thought when you went with Lucky last year?”
“Well, no.”
“Exactly. But then two months ago, you wrote to me and said you were leaving the gang and you were ready to settle down in a nice little house somewhere with me.”
Sam hung his head, and his face colored. “I’m sorry, Millie.” Neither of them had to speak of the money he’d earmarked to buy that little house. He’d lost it all gambling by the time Millie had traveled up here from Elkton. A woman who’d lived thirty years and more ought to know better than to trust a gambling man, even if he was kin.
“We got by,” she said. “Between my baking and laundry, we’ve been eating.”
“But I don’t want you to have to work so hard, Mil. I know I haven’t helped much.” That was an understatement. Sam’s contributions to their funds had consisted of money he’d pilfered or won at cards. She suspected he only got the latter by cheating.
“If you want to go back to the gang, go ahead, Sam. I’m not going with you, and that’s final.”
“But—”
“No.” Millie folded her best dress. She’d stolen it from a proper lady’s luggage more than a year ago, and it was getting threadbare now, but she still loved it. She placed it in the valise and added the apron, her extra stockings, and her few cosmetics. Last of all she put in a brown, leather-bound book and a small wooden box. She walked to the shelf near the stove. “I’ll leave you ten dollars. I’ll need the rest.”
“Where are you going?” Sam’s plaintive expression alm
ost made her relent. Though he was past thirty, his boyish face and memories of their knockabout childhood together kept her from despising him. But she’d had enough.
“I haven’t decided yet.” She opened the coffee tin she kept money in, peeled off the amount she was leaving him, and shoved the rest into her pocket. She’d been saving every penny she could, and had hoped that soon they could move to a real house, even though they’d have to rent one and not own it as they’d planned. Good thing she’d saved most of what she had left when she got here, and hidden it where Sam wouldn’t likely look.
“I’ll send Lucky away,” Sam said.
“For good?” Millie went to the window and pushed back the edge of the curtain with one finger. Lucky still stood there. He tossed his cigarette butt to the ground and crushed it with the heel of his scuffed boot.
“Well, I don’t—see, I—Lucky needs me, Mil.”
She dropped the curtain and placed her hands on her hips. “He needs you? Oh, that’s rich.” She’d known the man slightly when her husband was alive. Lucky was bad news then, and she had no doubt he’d grown worse over time.
“No, he does. See, one of his men died, and another’s hurt.”
“Ha. Killed during a robbery, no doubt.”
Sam ignored that. “He really needs me, and he says I’m a good man and he wants me to come back. And if you’d come and help us out—”
“What, nursing wounded thieves and cooking for them? No, thank you.” She went to the dish cupboard and scanned the contents. She couldn’t take all of their meager belongings. She chose her best paring and chopping knives and an enameled tin cup. She tucked them into her valise and closed it.
She put on her shawl and best bonnet.
“Good-bye, Sam. I’m sorry it turned out this way. Be careful.”
“No, wait!”
He followed her out the door.
Millie didn’t so much as glance Lucky’s way. She strode across the yard between their hovel and the feed store, aiming for the back door of the store. Better to go where other people would see her.
Sam trotted up behind her. “Millie, please.”
“Go back, Sam.”
THE Prairie DREAMS Trilogy Page 64
