Authors: Karen Baney
Tags: #Religion & Spirituality, #Literature & Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #Religious & Inspirational Fiction, #Historical Romance, #Religious fiction
“Joshua,” she started.
His heart soared.
She finally used his given name.
“Thank you…for everything…” she stammered.
“Not just for today, but for…”
Holding up his hand he stopped her.
“There is no need to thank me for that, Hannah,” he said, knowing she was about to thank him for taking care of her after Drew’s death.
He would have done anything he could for Drew.
The look in her eyes told him he read her correctly.
Not wanting to part without some assurance of seeing her again, Joshua said, “I hope that you might allow me to visit from time to time.
I’ve come to treasure your friendship and will miss it.”
He inwardly kicked himself as he stood, knowing that she had become so much more than a friend to him.
As Hannah stood and followed him outside, she said, “I would welcome your company, for you, too, are a treasured friend.”
Before he knew what happened, she gave him a quick peck on the check.
Then she turned and was gone.
Unconsciously, he rubbed the spot her lips had touched, astonished at how deeply he was affected by the innocent action.
He needed to find an excuse to get back to town often.
---
After saying her farewells to Joshua, Hannah searched for Betty.
She found her friend in the back hanging sheets on the clothesline.
Lifting the next one from the basket, Hannah pinned it on the line.
“That young man is smitten with you,” Betty stated matter-of-factly.
Confused, Hannah asked, “What young man?”
“The lieutenant.”
“That could not possibly be,” defended Hannah.
Betty snorted, apparently not agreeing with her assessment.
Changing the subject, Betty stated, “After we finish hanging the laundry, I’d like your help cleaning the washroom in ‘Gold Rush’.”
At Hannah’s incredulous expression, Betty explained, “‘Gold Rush’ is the north bunkhouse and ‘Mother Lode’ is the south bunkhouse.
The men thought it would be funny to name them.
I didn’t see any harm in it, so the names stuck.”
Hannah smiled at the names, obviously the idea of a miner.
Betty led her to Gold Rush and showed her what to clean.
Once that task was done, they started supper in the kitchen. Betty cut up the fixings for venison stew, while Hannah started the biscuits.
As they worked, Betty explained the routine.
Any man who wanted a packed lunch for the next day was to let her know at supper the night before.
In the morning, they rose early to make the packed lunches, and then prepared breakfast.
On rotating days, they laundered the bedding in the bunkhouses, washing only a few per day.
They cleaned the washrooms on alternating days, so tomorrow they would clean the Mother Lode.
The men were responsible for hauling their own water for bathing.
If they wanted hot water, they could request it in advance and it cost extra.
Any clothing they wanted laundered was to be placed in a designated area on their bunk.
Anything else would be left alone.
Wash days were Wednesday and Saturday.
During those days, they did not launder sheets.
The men were expected to be clean when they showed up in the dining hall.
There was to be no swearing, spitting, or drinking in the dining hall.
What the men did in the bunkhouses was up to them, but Betty demanded they keep it civil.
Paul hauled all of the water for cooking and cleaning from the town well.
Having listened carefully to the long list of tasks, Hannah was astonished Betty managed to get it all done.
“One last thing, dear,” Betty said, turning to look Hannah straight in the eye. “I will not tolerate any untoward behavior from these men.
If any of them even so much as look at you funny, you tell Paul and he will take care of it.
Many of these men
ain’t
seen a young woman for a good long time, much less a real beauty like you.
You remember what I said—be sure to let Paul know right away if you have any concerns.”
Shortly after the admonition was issued, noise drifted in from the dining hall.
The men began to gather with eager anticipation for their evening meal.
Hannah pulled the last of the biscuits from the oven, still a little giddy over using a real stove.
Betty dished up bowls of the stew and instructed Hannah to place the biscuits in three large serving baskets, one for each table.
Paul appeared from nowhere and began carrying the bowls out four at a time, skillfully balancing them on his arms.
Betty pointed at the biscuit filled baskets and gently prodded Hannah into the dining hall.
The second she stepped over the threshold, all conversation stopped and every eye was on her.
Heat rushed to her face and she wanted to turn and run.
Taking a step back, she was blocked by Betty.
Seeing the situation was a bit uncomfortable, Betty stepped around Hannah. “This is Mrs. Anderson.
She works for me and you will be treating her respectfully, you got that?
Now, please show her what fine manners your mamas taught you,” she scolded, nudging Hannah further into the room.
“Howdy, Mrs. Anderson,” several men said as she neared the table.
When she set the biscuit laden baskets on the table, they politely said, “Thank you, Mrs. Anderson.”
It was evident Betty was easily able to control the large group of men.
Hannah retreated to the kitchen and Betty asked her to help serve the remaining bowls.
She suggested Hannah take only as many as she could comfortably carry.
Hannah appreciated the respectfulness of the men.
After Betty’s warning, she was not sure what to expect.
However, once it was clear the men were well-mannered, Hannah felt at ease.
When the men finished eating, they handed their dishes down to one end, stacking them on top of each other.
Paul took the stacks into the kitchen for cleaning while Hannah went around the room for the count of boxed lunches.
The process took longer than expected, because the men were inquisitive about the new arrival.
“Where you from?” one short balding man asked.
Looking to the kitchen doorway, she saw Betty nod.
She answered that question, as well as several more.
By the time she had the list of lunches, she supposed they knew half of her life story.
The men thanked her for a wonderful meal as they made their way out of the dining hall.
“You did real good, Hannah,” Paul reassured her.
“Yes you did,” followed Betty.
“Letting the men get to know you like that is a good thing.
They will see you as a person, not just a pretty face.
And, you’ll find out when you get to know them, most of them are real lonely and are just looking for someone to converse with.
They really are a harmless bunch.”
Once the dishes were cleaned and stowed away, Hannah and Betty crossed into the personal quarters from the kitchen doorway.
Betty showed her the dead bolt for both doors, stating that one could never be too careful.
Exhausted, the two women retired to their beds.
Hannah’s mind was racing, reviewing all of the events of the day.
For the first night in ages, she did not think about Drew and fell asleep tear-free.
Chapter
25
Will grabbed a change of clothes and stuffed them into his saddle bags.
Slinging his holster around his waist, he fastened the belt buckle.
He checked the ammunition then placed the revolver in the holster.
Too much Indian activity lately to risk being unprepared for the trip to town.
Resting his saddle bags on his shoulder, he swiped the egg sandwich Rosa made from the plate on his table.
Closing the door behind him, he chomped down on a bite of the sandwich before settling the saddle bags on Jackson’s rump.
One handed, he mounted the stallion and
hupped
him into motion.
As he moved the horse forward, he finished off the last of his breakfast.
Ben followed behind on his mare, trailed by Covington and Whitten in the wagon.
When Bob Groom rode out to the ranch last week, Will had been surprised to see him.
Other than occasionally running into him in town, Will had not seen him since he surveyed his land last fall.
Bob stayed for dinner, relaying a great deal of information about the changes in town.
He told Will about the town meeting scheduled for tomorrow night.
The plan was to name the town and go over some other business.
Bob suggested that he attend.
It was a great opportunity to get to know more of his neighbors.
Other than a few men at the fort, the
Lancasters
, and the men from the Walker Party, Will did not know very many people in the area.
With the town officially organizing, many people from all over the area should be there.
Making some new friends might help with his loneliness, too.
More so in the last few months in the empty ranch house.
The quiet evenings long ago became too quiet.
The more time he spent there alone, the more he longed for a wife and children.
He supposed it was the next natural progression in his life.
He would turn thirty soon.
His father had been married for ten years at this age and was already raising two sons.
Here Will was, building up his ranching business in his brand new home, alone.
He should be content.
But he wasn’t.
He wanted the companionship of a wife.
Pretty crazy idea when he’d only seen one or two women since arriving in the territory.
Will grunted.
There was little hope of finding a wife here.
At least not right now.
Perhaps when more settlers moved to the area.
Then again, perhaps he should just leave it in God’s hands—since it would take a miracle to send him a wife in this wild territory.
No single woman would venture here on her own.
It would be too dangerous.
Maybe he should write to his sister to see if she knew of a young woman that would be willing to move to the Arizona Territory.
Lots of men found their wives that way.
What harm would there be in doing that?
At least then he would not be so lonely.
No.
Will did not want to commit to marrying a woman sight unseen.
How would he know if she shared the same faith or cared to live in the wilderness?
How would he even know if he liked her?
Breathing deeply, the fresh pine filled air cleared his mind.
Will focused his attention back on the road.
He was starting to lag behind the wagon and needed to remain alert in case of danger.
He must have been day-dreaming longer than he thought, for they were pulling into town already.
Covington called the wagon to a stop in front of Don Manuel
Yeserea’s
store.
The log cabin was the largest building in town and it doubled as both living quarters and store for the young owner from Santa Fe.
He came west last fall to set up the store, resupplying with monthly shipments from Santa Fe.
Will entered the building to pay for the supplies and then left the work of loading to Ben, Covington, and Whitten before leading his horse to Lancaster’s Boardinghouse.