It was about midnight when Radine heard the pig squeal. Quick as a jackrabbit she was on her feet and armed with a cast iron skillet. Her bare feet moved soundlessly. She slipped out of the door and spotted a dark figure with the pig tucked under his arm. She stood on her tiptoes and swung the skillet at the head of the thief. Only his hat saved him from serious harm.
“You dirty, no-good, pig-stealing, scoundrel,” Radine yelled, “Give me back Esther!”
Clouds shaded the moon, so Radine was only able to make out the vague features of a man who stood above her five-foot frame. She heard a hand slap leather and knew he reached for his gun. She swung the skillet with all of her might against his arm and heard the satisfying sound of his yell.
Another man’s figure filled the back door.
“I’ve got a shotgun and I won’t hesitate to use it.” Uncle Richard’s voice boomed and Radine’s legs grew weak with relief.
The thief dropped the pig into Radine’s arms and fled down the alley. Radine squinted hard, trying to make out his stature and the color of his hair. Something about the way the villain moved reminded her of that no-good Delmar Bassett that everyone suspected was a Sooner, but couldn’t prove it. Cheats and thieves were the sorriest people on earth, Radine believed, taking things they hadn’t earned.
It was easy for her to picture Delmar sneaking onto the Promised Land ahead of everyone else who was playing fair, staking out the best piece of farmland for his own worthless self. One of the reasons she was so sure of his guilt was the sneaky way he’d dealt with Ida Mae.
Instead of up-front and honest-like telling Ida Mae that he didn’t have any cash money, he waited until after she had bestowed her favors on him and then said he had to pay her with this here pig. Ida Mae was madder than a wet hen and said Delmar had cheated her. She then gave the pig to Radine. Radine had liked the little red porker with its droopy ears, but she didn’t like Delmar Bassett. If he was the thieving low life pig-stealer, she had the satisfaction of knowing his right arm would pain him for a spell.
“Are you all right?” Uncle Richard asked just as Miss Harriet appeared in the doorway carrying an oil lamp. Radine thought she looked right pretty in her lacy undress.
“I’m fine, thank you very kindly, sir,” Radine said with her widest smile, noticing that Uncle Richard carried a poker from the pot-bellied stove, not a shotgun. “But that pig-stealer should be suffering on his right side.” The golden glow from the lamp cast just enough light so Radine could see Uncle Richard’s grin as his gaze fell on the skillet.
“I see you armed yourself. Very plucky.”
“Someone tried to steal our Esther?” Harriet asked.
“Nothing for you to worry about, my dear,” Uncle Richard said. “Little Miss Radine has dealt with the problem very nicely. Used the business end of her skillet, I believe.”
A sunny glow of happiness swelled through Radine’s heart and then spread to every part of her body. In her whole life no real bonafide gentleman had ever addressed her with the title, “Miss.” Standing in the alley, right outside the pigpen, she fell in love with Uncle Richard and in her heart adopted him as her own flesh and blood. Even if he had been against her working for the hotel. Radine wasn’t one to hold a grudge.
“Did you recognize the scoundrel?” Harriet asked, holding her lamp a little higher.
Radine considered sharing her suspicions about Delmar Bassett, but wasn’t sure and didn’t want to accuse anyone who might be innocent. Not even a dirty cheat.
“Clouds were covering the moon,” she said. “I’ve got my suspicions, but I couldn’t say for certain and I’ll not speculate on so serious a charge.”
“You young ladies are going to catch your death out here in the night air,” Uncle Richard said, making shooing motions toward the door. “Let’s all go back to bed, and in the morning I’ll walk down and report this to the Marshall.”
For the second time Radine’s heart filled with a warming pleasure, this time from having someone care about her safety. Being fussed over made her feel all warm inside. After Pa died, she figured no one would ever again look after her welfare. Not that she was likely to catch the ague, but this kindly uncle really seemed to care about her health. He had called her a young lady. And him an Eastern gentleman. It was almost more joy than a body could bear.
* * *
The morning dawned bright and beautiful. Radine had just finished emptying the chamber pots from each of the hotel rooms and was washing her hands at the pump when Harriet rushed out to find her.
“Guess what, Radine?” she asked. “The Presbyterian Ladies are planning an ice cream and strawberry social and they’ve asked for help. Won’t it be exciting? The money raised will be used to buy chairs for the church. Guthrie is going to become a wonderful town and we’ll be part of the building of something fine.”
A glow of happiness spread through Radine’s chest.
“They invited me to help, too?” she asked.
“They said all of the town ladies could help. I don’t know which church you prefer, but this will be a worthy cause, regardless.”
“Well, I reckon I’d be glad to help. I make larruping sugar cookies.”
“Wonderful. They will need lots of cookies to serve with the ice cream. The new icehouse receives shipments from Kansas regularly now. Everyone in town will be at the social. What do you think we should wear?”
Radine stopped as if the breath had been knocked out of her and stared at Harriet. She felt color rise in her cheeks.
“Well, I reckon I’ll wear my gray dress. It’s the one I wore when I first met you. This here one is my work dress. My Sunday dress, the gray one, was made from an old dress of my ma’s. I only have the two.”
A look of embarrassment flushed across Harriet’s face which she quickly covered and then smiled.
“Oh Radine, you’re so beautiful that you could wear a gunny sack and still be the loveliest girl at the social. The gentlemen will all be fussing to sit beside you and fetch you more lemonade.”
“No they won’t,” Radine said sadly. “Pretty don’t count for nothing.”
“Pretty counts for everything with gentlemen. How can you say it doesn’t?” Harriet wore a shocked, almost angry look on her face, so Radine hastened to explain.
“Well, before Ma died she told me I was a beauty, but not to let it go to my head. She said that beauty was a cruel gift because it promised so much and gave so little. I guess she knew what she was talking about, because Ma was beautiful for sure.”
Harriet fingered the ruffles at the neck of her dress. “Dear me,” she finally managed.
“And assuming she was right about me being pretty, I can tell you that it sure ain’t done me no good that I can see. I’d rather have brains and grit any day of the week. And best of all would be to have good old cold cash money. If I had a little money I could buy myself a new readymade jumper suit and a frilly new waist. Then the fellers would notice me whether I was pretty or not. J.A. Oberbay’s Drygoods and Clothing Store just got in a shipment from New York City itself. I’ve been over there every day looking at their dresses.”
“I’m sure that you’re wrong about clothes attracting gentlemen. But if it’s money you’re wanting, why don’t you sell Esther to me? I can hardly bear the idea of someone making bacon out of the poor thing. I’ll pay you five dollars for that sweet little pig.”
“Five dollars? Why Miss Harriet I’d be cheating you if I let you pay me such a fortune for this here pig.”
“You would not. In my opinion Esther is worth a lot more. You’ll have a pretty new dress and I’ll have me a pet. What do you say?”
“Well, I reckon I’ll say yes. If you’re sure, that is.” Radine’s heart soared. For the first time in her life she would have a brand new store bought outfit.
Chapter 3
Harriet walked resolutely to the Square Deal Lumberyard. The marriage contract she had written was in her green silk reticule. She hoped Radine was right abo
ut gentlemen being impressed by smart-looking clothes because she had decked herself out in the best daytime outfit she owned. Radine, who seemed to guess the importance of her visit, had dressed her hair. The clever girl had pulled Harriet’s hair to the top of her head leaving the ends hanging. She then heated the curling iron over a coal oil lamp and formed masses of small curls that covered most of the back of Harriet’s head and trailed charmingly down her neck. Radine’s final touch was to place Harriet’s stylish green hat at a jaunty angle. Harriet hardly recognized herself in the mirror.
“You are a miracle worker,” she told Radine. Then she left the hotel with a braver heart. The fact that she had never looked better in her life, gave Harriet courage. But when the lumberyard was in sight she stopped and bit her lip, struggling with the temptation to sneak back home. She narrowed her eyes, took a deep breath, and moved forward. I will not be a coward, she thought. I will do or die.
But even with this quote burning in her brain, Harriet’s knees felt weak as water. She spied Zachariah in the yard helping a farmer load lumber into a wagon and she stood mesmerized, watching him work. The man was magnificent. His shirt was dampened with sweat and clung to his muscled torso. He glanced toward her, caught her gaze and grinned. Harriet could hardly breathe. A hot blush rushed to her cheeks. Using all of the self-control she could muster she gave him a prim nod. At least she hoped it was prim. No decent man wanted a lustful woman. Or so she had been told by spinster governesses when she was younger.
Both Garretts were gentlemen, she assured herself. She would speak to them together in the privacy of the office, and if they both turned her down surely they would never tell a soul. She hoped. If her judgment of their characters was wrong, she would be ruined socially in Guthrie, forever.
She stepped into the newly built office and saw Micah at the desk. He stood when she entered.
“Is there a problem with the lumberyard?” A worried frown creased his face.
“Miss Harriet!” Zachariah’s voice sounded behind her. She turned and saw a grin spread across his handsome face. Harriet’s heart took wing.
“I’m finished outside and I’d be glad to help you with whatever you need. I’m sure my little brother is busy with the books.”
Harriet cleared her throat in an effort to gain control of her pounding heart. Zachariah was simply too handsome to be interested in a plain woman, she reminded herself. His seeming eagerness was just an act of courtesy. It was the serious Micah who might find her marriage contract to be a sensible plan for his life. She had never dared to hope for love from any man, so it would be wiser to wed the brother who didn’t make her heart race. And yet this thought brought a feeling of emptiness to her chest.
“I would like a private conference with the two of you.” She forced herself to smile. “I have a new business proposition.” There. That was the way to state her proposal. A business proposition. She felt a bit calmer.
Zachariah closed the door and then found a chair for her. He pulled up another chair for himself and motioned a puzzled looking Micah to sit behind the desk. Harriet lowered herself gracefully to the chair, her back straight as a rod. Had she realized that her grace and her poise far outshone her plainness, and that in this frontier town she seemed a sophisticated fashion plate and the epitome of a perfect lady, she would have taken heart. But believing herself to be gauche, her hands trembled in her white kid gloves as she removed the contract from her purse and held it with shaking fingers.
“I realize this will seem very forward and eccentric to both of you, but I am a practical woman.” Telling her plan was harder than she had expected. She cleared her throat and forced herself to look the brothers straight in the eye, first one and then the other.
“The lumberyard is doing very well,” Micah said with a hopeful look on his face. “Are you interested in opening another business?”
“Not exactly,” Harriet said. She shot a look at Zachariah but his face had turned expressionless. Oh dear, Harriet thought. Has he guessed my intent and already steeled himself against my offer? She straightened her already perpendicular back. Well, who cares? It’s his brother that I want. Micah will see the practicality of my contract. But nevertheless she was suddenly both heartsick and tongue-tied.
“Perhaps it would be easier for you to read the contract, yourselves,” she pushed the document toward Micah.
She watched him scan the sheet and she could have sworn he blanched, even though his facial expression never changed. Harriet wanted to sink through the floor and disappear from the face of the earth forever. Zachariah reached for the contract and quickly read the contents. His face also seemed unreadable.
“Well, Miss Harriet,” he said in a businesslike manner. “I think my brother and I ought to play fair with this offer, since I’m sure that we both want to accept.” He reached into his watch pocket and pulled out a silver dollar.
“I’m calling heads, is tails all right with you, brother?”
Micah raised one eyebrow and Harriet realized the brothers were able to communicate without speaking a word.
“Indeed it is, Zachariah. Indeed it is.”
Zachariah flipped the silver dollar, caught it midair, and glanced at the coin. “Heads it is.” He then astonished Harriet by dropping to one knee before her. She had never fainted in her life, but at that moment she felt very close to a swoon.
“Miss Harriet, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asked.
Harriet’s head whirled and she was sure that she would faint. He was close enough that she could breathe in the smell of his maleness. The aura of the fresh lumber he had been lifting, leather, and plain lye soap filled her senses. Then fear began to haunt her. What was he doing? Was he mocking her? She certainly hadn’t expected to have the matter settled in a gaming fashion. Should she be insulted or flattered? She wasn’t quite sure. She had made the offer fair and square and seriously. Why did she suddenly feel like crying? She struggled to keep her poise.
“Such a display isn’t necessary Mr. Garrett,” she said. “Ours will be a business arrangement.”
“Are you telling me that I won’t have conjugal rights?” Zachariah grinned up at her wickedly. “I thought one item on the contract was that we were to have children together. I don’t think we can manage that with a handshake.”
Harriet blushed to her toes. Why wouldn’t the fool stand on his feet and behave in a civilized manner?
“Of course I want to have children,” she snapped and then blushed again.
“Then I suggest we make the process pleasurable,” Zachariah said very seriously. “Will you accept my proposal or must I stay on my knees all morning?”
“Very well, Mr. Garrett, I accept,” Harriet said in a sharper tone than she had intended.
Zachariah sprang to his feet with a laugh, pulled up Harriet into his arms and kissed her soundly. His lips were full and soft and Harriet’s knees would have buckled if Zachariah hadn’t held her upright.
“You’ve granted me a great honor, and have made me the proudest man in Guthrie,” Zachariah said.
Harriet’s head spun from the kiss. It was her first. And the man towering over her was to be her husband, share her bed, and father her babies. Her heart pounded so hard she was afraid the brothers would hear its beat.
“Well then.” She barely recognized her own voice. “I suggest we sign the contract.” After she spoke Zachariah released her and she sank onto her chair.
“I agree to all of the terms on this paper,” Zachariah said, then ripped the document to shreds.
Harriet gasped. He’d changed his mind! He was destroying her precious contract. “How dare you mock me?” she said.
“My word is my bond.” Zachariah reached down and lifted Harriet’s chin and stared into her eyes. “If I tell you I will abide by this contract, then I expect that to be binding enough to satisfy the woman I marry. Can you accept that?”
She didn’t know what to say. The loss of the contract seemed like
a loss of control to Harriet, and she didn’t like it. But it didn’t seem wise to insult her new fiancé by saying so.
“Of course,” she finally said.
“I’ll speak to your uncle immediately, and I suggest that we be married tomorrow.” Zachariah walked to the corner of the office and took his coat from a hook. In an instant he was transformed into a businessman that both intrigued and intimidated Harriet.
“Tomorrow? So soon?” She still feared she might faint.
“Are you suggesting a long courtship, Miss Harriet?” Zachariah’s expression was so uncharacteristically serious that Harriet frowned. He was mocking her. She just knew it. She pulled the tattered scraps of her poise together, lifted her nose higher into the air, and spoke with what she hoped was impressive dignity.
“Certainly not. Tomorrow just seems so… so… sudden.”
Zachariah looked as if he would like to burst into laughter but dared not. “When a man decides to marry, he looks forward to that event with a certain… er… enthusiasm, and he would just as soon get on with it, Miss Harriet. But whatever date pleases you will suit me just fine.”
Harriet realized that her behavior was ridiculous. She had so feared rejection that she hadn’t given thought to acceptance. Mr. Garrett was right, of course. What was the point of delay? She took a deep breath. “Tomorrow will be just fine,” she said and could have sworn that Zachariah looked pleased.
“I’ll walk you back to the hotel and speak to your uncle.” Zachariah took her elbow and escorted her outside. Harriet was too breathless to say a word but he chatted casually of common things and she was grateful for his easy manner. She also liked the fact that he walked on the outside to protect her from possible mud splashes as wagons drove by, and she was proud that he always tipped his hat and nodded when they passed a woman. She would never need to be embarrassed by a lack of manners. The man was a gentleman.
Foxy Statehood Hens and Murder Most Fowl (The Foxy Hens) Page 3
