“It’s possible. James Rose owns the nicest parcel in this part of the Territory. Since he’s been gone so long, it could be that someone wants to give his wife a good reason to hightail to New York City.”
Lenora’s head popped back up. Frighten her? “Who would want to do that?” she said, aghast at the thought of abandoning her ranch out of fear.
“Anyone who badly wants the ranch and herd and has the money to buy them,” said Luke. “Know anyone like that?”
“Any number of large ranches around these parts would welcome the opportunity to annex yours,” said Reverend Thomas, looking at Lenora. “You’ve got water all year round, not just during the wet spells.”
“Of course,” said Lenora, embarrassed. Why hadn’t this scenario occurred to her already? A few local ranchers had approached James in the last four years, offering to buy them out. But James would not be tempted. He had purchased a dream, and so had Lenora. There wasn’t enough cash in all of Wyoming Territory for them to give that up.
“We’ve had offers for the property,” said Lenora, “but James turned them down promptly. And those came from our neighbors,” she said. “They’re our friends.”
Reverend Thomas and Luke exchanged a look.
“Has anyone approached you lately about buying?” asked Luke.
“No.”
“If someone wanted to buy her out,” said Betsy, “and planned to use fear as a motive, they might be smart enough not to tip their hand.”
“True,” said Luke.
The room was quiet several seconds. In the silence Lenora felt Ulysses’ absence more keenly. Until now she had not realized what a comfort the daily sounds of her pet’s movements outside the house had been for her since James left. She even missed his bone-rattling barking.
“Mrs. Rose,” Luke said, “has Buck Jennings or Pea-Pod Pendergrass ever come ‘round asking for work?”
“I don’t recall ever seeing either of them out this way.” Lenora debated volunteering her next thought, because she didn’t want the conversation to veer anywhere near her argument with James. But a decapitated dog was serious business, so she forged ahead. “And if they had ever spoken to James in town, he would not have told me. We didn’t always agree on the subject of hiring help.”
Luke looked intently at Lenora, but if he had an opinion on the Roses’ disagreements, he kept it hidden behind an impassive face.
“Who was on the property yesterday besides myself?” he asked.
“Ben Slocomb was here in the afternoon, like every afternoon. After that, there was no one but you. I was in town most of the day. I didn’t arrive back with the Thomases until suppertime.”
“What did you see when you arrived?” asked Reverend Thomas, directing his question to Luke.
“Nothing. I arrived before Ben did. I looked over everything—house, barn, out buildings. Everything was in order. Ulysses was happy to see me. He was on his chain. I fed him some jerky.”
Lenora winced at the thought of Ulysses’ last few hours alive. She could easily picture Ulysses’ slobbering happiness at receiving a treat from the deputy. How could anyone butcher an innocent animal? Why would anyone take pleasure from such an act?
“I’ll ride out to the Slocombs after I leave here and see if Ben saw anything suspicious,” said Luke. “I’ll ask at your other neighbors too,” he said, speaking to Lenora.
Lenora’s eyes met his. She saw nothing but kindness, so much so that she temporarily forgot her embarrassment over her current condition and their awkward dinner arrangements. Appearance didn’t matter so much anymore. Having people that cared, she had learned, took the sting out of a lot of life’s difficulties.
“Deputy,” said Reverend Thomas, “You don’t suppose Ben had anything to do with this?” Reverend Thomas absently ran his hand over his long beard.
Luke paused to think, shook his head. “I’ve thought about that some. But I’ve no good reason to suspect Ben. He’s a good boy. Runs off at the mouth sometimes, but he’s never given his folks any trouble that I’ve heard of. Also, this doesn’t look like the work of someone so young.”
“No, I suppose not,” said Reverend Thomas.
“Probably a good idea if I stop in and question him, though, his parents, too,” said Luke.
“Looks more like the act of someone who’s angry,” said Betsy.
“I agree,” said Luke.
“I don’t know of anyone who’d be angry at me,” said Lenora, thinking aloud.
“Not you, Mrs. Rose, your husband,” said Luke, looking grim.
Just then the hiss and rattle of a madly percolating coffee pot caused them all to look toward the kitchen.
“I forgot the coffee!” Betsy jumped up from the table and walked briskly toward the kitchen. While they waited for her to return with the coffee service, Luke turned again to Lenora.
“Did Sam Wright come around before today?”
“You saw Sam on the way in?” interrupted Reverend Thomas. He leaned in to Luke a bit, looking stunned. Betsy entered the room then with cream and sugar and clean spoons.
“I passed him about a half mile down the road.”
“Did he tell you anything?” asked Reverend Thomas.
Luke looked confused. “He said he’d been by to see about helping Mrs. Rose with morning chores until she’s on her feet again.”
Reverend Thomas and his wife looked at each other, eyes wide with knowing. Lenora looked stunned too.
“Deputy Davies,” said the Reverend, “Before Sam rode out of here this morning, I told him what happened to Ulysses. He said he was going to town today, and he volunteered to tell you everything when he got there to save me the trip. You’re telling me he said nothing to you about the dog?”
“Not a word,” said Luke.
Chapter Sixteen
“Having you at the ranch these last few weeks has made me think about a lot of things, Etta. And I’ve realized something important.”
The hot spell had broken, and the mild temperatures of early summer had returned, making the wide open prairie a welcoming place again. Even the small prairie animals seemed unusually frisky in the cooler temperatures. Blacktail prairie dogs with their creamy white throats and dark almond eyes skittered excitedly, poking their noses from their holes, sniffing and twitching, entire families of them staring at Lenora and Etta as they rolled by, as if the buckboard were part of a funeral train. In the distance a small herd of pronghorn antelope stopped grazing long enough to stare as well, their black faces all as one, observing the women in the buckboard dispassionately. After a minute the bored creatures returned to their grassy meal, ignoring the wagon altogether.
And this morning, after so many dreary hours of lying in a makeshift bed, riding in the buckboard with Etta Nolan was positively glorious for Lenora. She exulted in the simple acts of taking a hot soak in a deliciously deep tub of water instead of making do with a sponge bath, wearing a pretty fitted dress instead of a shapeless nightgown, holding onto the reins, and sitting upright on the buckboard seat like a human passenger instead of a farm animal dozing in the wagon box. After a trying season of inactivity, she appreciated the smallest routines of living as never before. She couldn’t stop smiling this morning. Soon, she thought to herself, she must make a new frock of the daffodil silk, something unusually special, with lots of hidden tucks that she could let out as she grew bigger in front.
“And what is that, dear?” said Etta, gripping the buckboard bench to keep from sliding off. But before Lenora answered, Etta said, “I know you’re excited about getting out of the house, but can you slow your horses down just a little? Buffalo will still be there if we take it at a trot instead of a stampede.”
Lenora laughed. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry.” Deftly she pulled on the reins to slow Beauty and Beast. “I’m just so happy to be going to town.” She let go of the reins with one hand and patted her still-flat abdomen. “And I’m so happy about the baby.”
“The baby will be a com
fort to you,” said Etta, raising her voice a little over the noise of the wagon wheels.
Mrs. Nolan didn’t say it, but Lenora’s mind easily finished the thought. In the loss of your husband. But the unspoken words dampened Lenora’s spirit only a little. The sudden pang of grief she felt when she realized that James might not ever hold their long-awaited child gripped her heart so fiercely she felt she couldn’t breathe. But already she was learning to push the pain to the back of her mind as quickly as possible. She felt too good, the day was too beautiful, the baby too healthy and too real to allow her thoughts to become veiled in a shroud of mourning. James still had not come home and might not ever again. But she had to go on living. She had the baby growing within her to think of now.
“Now what were you going to tell me?” said Mrs. Nolan.
“I’ve made a decision.”
“Oh?”
“I can’t live alone, Etta. Having you with me these past few weeks, after being alone so long, makes the thought of spending another night by myself on the ranch without James—or you—most unpleasant.”
“Of course, dear. Anybody would feel the way you do.”
“Not only that, when James first went missing, I was determined to hang on to the ranch at any cost. But after all the things that have happened since then, now holding onto the ranch all by myself seems naive.”
The elderly widow nodded, listening intently over the racket of the wagon wheels and the clip clop of the horse team.
“But I’m not a quitter, Etta. And now that Sam Wright is behind bars, I have even more reason to stick it out until I’ve fulfilled the five years. I have nothing to fear anymore. With that episode behind me, I have every reason to give it one more year. James would want that.”
“Are you sure, Lenora?”
“If I can stick it out another year, the ranch will be one hundred percent mine. The baby’s too.” Lenora patted her abdomen again. “If James isn’t back with us by then, I’ll sell and move back East with my folks.”
“Do you really think you can handle the ranch and a little one by yourself Lenora? Even for a short time? You’ve never had a baby. You don’t know how much work is involved.”
“I didn’t say it would be easy.” Nothing has been easy yet. “To tell the truth, I expect it to be difficult. But neither is it impossible. I have to at least try to hang on until I get full ownership.”
“A year is a long time, Lenora.”
“A year and a half to be exact.”
Etta shook her head slowly side to side and made a straight line of her mouth.
“Don’t look so glum, Etta. I didn’t say I’d do it entirely by myself. I plan to ask Mr. Morehouse at Wells Fargo for a loan this morning. If I can get an advance against the sale of the ranch, I’ll have enough to hire a foreman full-time. If James doesn’t come back before the ranch is ours, once the property is in my name I’ll sell it and pay off the mortgage with the proceeds.”
“And if James comes back before then?”
“Then the mortgage will be his problem to solve.”
“Ooh,” said Mrs. Nolan, drawing out her ‘o’ a little bit longer than necessary.
“What do you mean, ‘Ooh’?”
“You’ll hire a foreman to live on your ranch?”
“Room and board plus a pittance wage is the only way I can afford to hire someone. The ranch isn’t big enough to pay cash wages.”
“True,” said Mrs. Nolan with a sigh.
“And I can’t keep accepting favors from the Slocombs. I must start paying Ben for his services. To do otherwise would be taking advantage.”
Etta nodded again but said nothing. Lenora shifted the reins in her hands. They were growing numb from gripping hard for so long.
“Sam Wright is locked up where he belongs, thank God, so hiring him is out of the question. Betsy Thomas tells me it won’t be long before I won’t be able to lift the harness to hitch and unhitch my horses. I have to find someone. As soon as possible too.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t do to overexert yourself and end up in bed again.”
“Never!” If there was anything Lenora dreaded it was the mind-numbing effect of forced inactivity. She had to keep busy, keep moving, and keep her mind occupied to stay sane.
The ladies rode in silence a while, enjoying the fresh morning air and wild sense of freedom that comes from traversing through wide open spaces. Before long the weathered storefronts of Buffalo appeared as a gray spot on the prairie.
“You sure you don’t want me to wait with you until your son shows up?” asked Lenora.
“No dear, you’ve plenty of errands in town to take up your time. Malcolm knows to meet me at Aeschelman’s. He’ll be right on schedule. And if he’s late, I can always wait in the milliner’s shop and visit with Ellen. I haven’t been in to see her in a while. Besides, I need a new hat.”
“Like you need another head.”
Both women laughed. Mrs. Nolan was known about town for, among other things, the endless parade of distinctive bonnets she sported.
“How can I thank you for all you’ve done for me, Etta? If you hadn’t sacrificed to come stay with me, I would have ended up languishing at the Occidental.” Lenora shuddered at the thought of the toll that would have taken on her bank account, not to mention the loneliness inherent in staying so long in a strange place, bereft of family and the comfort of familiar surroundings.
“Think nothing of it. I was glad to do it. I’ll come and stay with you when the baby arrives too. Now there’s something to look forward to!” Mrs. Nolan smiled broadly, her laugh lines framing her eyes under her bonnet.
“I would like that very much, Etta,” said Lenora, reaching for the elderly woman’s hand and giving it a squeeze.
#
As Lenora pulled onto Main Street, it seemed to her that the presence of two women, one young, one old, riding on a common buckboard was of greater interest than usual to shoppers and other pedestrians. Two men occupied in carrying a corn harvester out the front door of Aeschelman’s actually stopped, grunting under their load, to watch them roll by. Others pointed and whispered, staring and putting their heads together to share some dark secret, and not all that discreetly, either. And though Lenora saw a few passersby who knew her from church, oddly, no one waved a greeting. Then, as they slowed the wagon for a pedestrian in front of Wells Fargo, Lenora saw Mrs. Graves walk out of the bank. She too stopped to watch the movement of the buckboard. Lenora saw Mrs. Graves look in her direction. Lenora smiled, but instead of returning the smile, Mrs. Graves blanched, turned her head, and proceeded to walk down the street.
A niggling sense of alarm arose in Lenora’s mind. How bad was the gossip, really? Perhaps Betsy had not exaggerated after all. Lenora leaned over and spoke closely in Mrs. Nolan’s ear.
“Etta, something doesn’t feel right. People are staring.”
“Yes dear, I see that.”
“I hope I’m not embarrassing you.”
“Not at all.” Mrs. Nolan smoothed her skirt, tucked a stray wisp of white hair into her frilly bonnet, and sat up a little straighter in the buckboard seat. “Just keep guiding the horses and smile when you see their faces. There’s nothing you can do about the dark thoughts on the other side of those eyes.”
“Yes,” said Lenora, her voice tremulous. But for the most part she found it easier to avoid their faces altogether. She shook inside when she saw the open displeasure staring back at her from people she knew about town. It made her all the more panicked and anxious to get her buckboard and horses behind the dark walls of Olathe’s Livery. She stared straight ahead and guided the horses, which seemed anxious as well to reach the creature comforts at the stables.
Not soon enough Lenora was pulling on the reins to slowly guide Beauty and Beast through the wide open door of Olathe’s. She brought the big animals to a stop, set the brake, and held the reins, waiting for Olathe to appear. The old man heard the jingle of the harness and the creaking of the wagon and c
ame from the back of the stable to greet them. Out of habit Lenora smiled at him. She was taken aback when the little man rudely refused to return the courtesy.
“Ma’am,” he said, with minimum politeness. His jaw taut, he met Lenora’s eyes for the briefest instant, enough to be civil and no more, and then walked around the wagon to the other side to help Mrs. Nolan down. Naturally the elderly woman would be assisted first in disembarking, but Lenora felt the rebuff acutely just the same.
So this is how it is. The heretofore likable and friendly little man suspected her of damnable things. If someone she thought of as a friend was inclined to believe the wild tales circulating about the lunatic adulteress at Crazy Woman Creek, then Lenora realized, with a feeling of doom, that her troubles with gossip would only get worse. As she sat stiff and prim on the buckboard bench waiting for Olathe to help her down, resplendent in her creamy white barege and silken tussah, she wished she had worn something to town today a little more reserved.
At least, she thought with wry humor, she hadn’t worn her blazing red kidskin boots and matching gloves.
Olathe finished with Mrs. Nolan and then, instead of returning to Lenora’s side of the wagon to help her down, he ignored her and walked over to Beauty and took hold of the reins attached to the horse’s harness.
“You going to be long in town, Mrs. Rose?” he said.
Lenora’s mouth parted slightly with shock. Never had a man treated her with such disrespect in all her life. By this time Mrs. Nolan, using her cane, had thumped her way around the wagon to Lenora’s side.
“Bennett Olathe,” she said, leaning heavily on her cane with both hands after the long, bone-jarring ride to town. “Act hospitably and help Mrs. Rose down.”
Olathe didn’t move, just stood there, tight lipped.
“This is my livery,” he finally said, a look of steel determination in his eyes.
“Fiddlesticks!” snapped Mrs. Nolan. She turned abruptly away from Olathe and took a step toward the wagon, where Lenora sat, speechless and incredulous. Mrs. Nolan leaned on her cane with one hand and extended her other to Lenora. “Here, let me help you,” she said, loudly enough to make it clear the words were more for Olathe than Lenora, “Shameful thing when we have to suffer such a shortage of gentlemen in this town.”
Crazy Woman Creek Page 16
