Friends and Enemies (7 page)

“Mrs. Edwards never had anything but her sewing supplies up in your room. We'll all go shopping tomorrow and see what we can find,” Jamie Sue announced.

Veronica spun around and plopped down beside her sister. “We want French provincial furniture, with separate four-poster beds and matching wardrobes painted white with gold trim,” she blurted out, keeping time with each word by tapping both shoes on the hardwood floor.

Jamie Sue surveyed the high ceiling of her new living room. “You will get one bed . . . comfortable and sturdy, and well within our budget, and share a wardrobe as you did in Arizona.”

“Mother . . .” Patricia paused and wrinkled her nose. “When do we get separate things?”

Immediately Veronica wrinkled her nose also.

“When you get married,” Robert grinned.

Veronica sighed. “But we'll have to share a wardrobe even then!”

“There are worse things in life. You wear each other's clothes every day of the year. Why would you need to separate them?” Jamie Sue challenged.

“You just don't understand what it's like to be an identical twin,” Veronica whimpered.

“Of course I don't. I never will. But some day you will both understand what it's like to be a mother.”

Little Frank ran into the living room. “I really like my room! I have my own door to the back porch. I can go outside without . . . eh, bothering anyone.”

“What you mean is, you can go outside without anyone knowing it,” Robert said.

“Yeah . . . that too. Can I go look around the neighborhood? I think I saw a boy my age. Maybe he plays baseball.”

Veronica jumped up and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “What did he look like?”

Little Frank jammed his hands in the back pockets of his brown ducking trousers. “He didn't have blond curly hair.”

“Maybe we should go for a walk too.” Patricia brushed the bangs out of her eyes.

“You girls know the rules. You need to stay where I can . . .”

“Robert!” Jamie Sue corrected.

He ran his fingers through the back of his hair and could feel the tense neck muscles. “Mama's right. We live in town now. Things will be different. Be careful. I don't have to keep you in sight, . . . but you girls keep each other in sight. Look after each other. That's the special blessing of being a twin.”

All three children scooted toward the front door.

“Can we walk with you, Little Frank?” Veronica asked.

His baseball bat over his shoulder, he paused at the doorway. “No, that would spoil everything. You two stay way back and pretend you don't know me,” he insisted.

“Why?” Patricia prodded.

Little Frank trudged out to the porch. “I don't want to scare the boys off on our first day.”

In unison with her sister, Veronica folded her arms across her chest. “Are you saying we're so ugly we'd scare boys off?”

“No, just the opposite,” he shouted back as he scooted down the sidewalk. “You two are so pretty, most boys will be too embarrassed even to talk to me.”

Veronica stuck her head back into the living room. “You're right, Mama, all the Fortune boys are sweet talkers.”

Jamie Sue took Robert's hand. “Well, Mr. Fortune, I do think the children are adjusting quickly.”

“How about you?” he questioned.

“I think we've found a home.”

“I felt the same thing. In fifteen years of army life we've lived in twenty different houses, none of which felt like home. But this one . . . the minute I walked into the living room, I knew it was home.” He glanced at the oak stairway that led to the second floor. “We will need to get the girls a bed.”

“We can make pallets on the floor tonight.”

“This has been a long day, Mrs. Fortune. It's like a lifetime of adventures in only eight hours. I still can't believe that the lumber mill burned down on the day we arrived in town.”

“And I can't believe we got into an argument in front of your family the minute we got off the train. I feel mortified about that.”

“I didn't realize how nervous I was about being in the same town as Daddy Brazos and my brothers. For all my life I've been ‘little brother,' the one who could never quite compete with them. That's one reason I joined the army: they didn't. I was on my own, with no constant comparisons. But now . . . I feel like the little brother having to prove myself again.”

“You remember the advice you gave me this afternoon?” she challenged.

“To just be yourself?”

“Yes. Well now, Mr. Robert Fortune, it's your turn.”

He leaned his head against the back of the sofa. “What does that mean?”

Jamie Sue stood and paced the polished wood floor. “If your family didn't live in Deadwood and you were moving us up here and had that conversation with Mr. Narborg about the railroad job, and then got to town and found your previous job burned to the ground, what would you do?”

“I'd take the railroad job, of course. It's the kind of thing I would enjoy. But my family
is
here,” he replied.

“Robert, if you decide to operate a business in town, you will forever be comparing yourself to Todd and Sammy. If you work for the railroad, you can just be yourself, and maybe make a stand against lawlessness, which is your greatest passion in life.”

He raised one thick, dark brown eyebrow. “Oh?”

“OK,” she grinned, “your second greatest passion in life.”

“I'd be away from you and the kids sometimes.”

“I'm an army wife, with army kids. We know that Daddy has to be away from time to time,” she replied. “At least you won't have three months' duty chasing Apaches through northern Mexico.”

“And I will have a couple of deputies, so I can schedule myself to be home on important dates.”

“I think it's a wonderful opportunity.”

“It does seem to be a natural for me.”

“It's ironic that the lumber mill burned down.” She paused her pacing. “Almost as if it were the Lord's timing. You don't suppose He burns down buildings, do you?”

Robert reached out and took her hand. “I don't think so.”

She held onto his fingers. “So, are you going to take the job?”

“Yes, I believe so.” He tugged her over until she sat on his knee.

“Believe so?” She slipped her arm around his neck. “You mean, you'll take it if your family gives you permission? Robert, you need to decide on your own. Don't ask them what you should do. Tell them what you decided.”

His arm encircled her waist. “Jamie Sue . . .”

“Oh, are we going to start up where we left off downtown?”

“Jamie Sue, I cannot be the way you want me to be. I am the youngest son in a family that dominates western South Dakota. I have to do this my way. No decision I make is completely separate from my family.”

She remained perched on his knee. “Do you promise to decide what you know in your heart to be right?”

He reached over and brushed a strand of her brown hair out of her eyes. “I promise you.”

“Then I will accept that.” She held his hand to her cheek. His calloused fingers felt warm.

“Thank you,” he replied.

“You're welcome.”

Jamie Sue started to giggle.

“Is something funny?”

“Why is it we couldn't have this nice friendly discussion in the presence of your family, instead of yelling and pouting at each other?”

“We didn't yell and pout,” he insisted.

“We most certainly did.”

“That is not what I call yelling and pouting.”

Jamie Sue leaned back but kept his hand at her cheek. “What do you call it?”

“We were a tad argumentative and surly.”

“Which is a man's way of saying ‘yell and pout'?”

He smiled. “That's correct.”

She looped both hands around his thick, muscular neck. “Is it time to kiss and make up?”

“I think you took care of that in public.”

“Oh, no, Robert Fortune, you promised we would wait to kiss and make up in private! Everyone knows that Fortune men always keep their word. And this is very, very private.”

“Well, if you put it that way, I guess I'll have to . . .”

“Have to?” she pulled away.

“Eh, want to.”

“Really want to?”

“Really, really, really want to.”

She snuggled back up to where her lips were within two inches of his. “That's better . . .”

His lips had just pressed against hers, and she was wishing they had closed the living room curtains and locked the front door, when there was a stiff knock.

They jumped to their feet. Jamie Sue brushed down her dress.

“Is that the kids?” he probed.

Jamie Sue peeked out the front window. “It's someone with a freight wagon.”

“Is the railroad bringing our trunks? Maybe they have them after all.” Todd swung the front door open to find a short man with broad shoulders. Another man waited out near the team of mules that were hitched to the wagon.

“Are you the new Fortunes?” he asked.

“I suppose you could say that. I'm Robert Fortune.”

The man glanced down at the invoice. “I'm lookin' for a Miss Veronica Ruth Fortune and Miss Patricia Sarah Fortune.”

“They aren't home at the moment,” Jamie Sue explained.

“I've got a big delivery here from Central Furniture,” the man announced. “Shall we bring it in through the front door?”

Robert rubbed his clean-shaven chin. It felt flushed. “I don't think we ordered anything yet.”

“No, sir . . . these items was paid for by Brazos Fortune. He said the girls were his daughters, or maybe it was granddaughters; he wasn't too clear on that.”

“They are our daughters . . . his granddaughters. Just exactly what do you have?” Jamie Sue asked.

The man began to read the invoice in his hand. “Two spring boards, two feather mattresses, four feather pillows, two pink comforters and matching pillow slips . . . two mirrored dressers, two wardrobe closets and two four-poster beds.”

Jamie Sue's mouth dropped open. “They wouldn't happen to be in French provincial, painted white with gold trim?”

“Yep, them is the ones. What room do you want them set up in?”

CHAPTER THREE

Jamie Sue's perfectly parted brown hair was curled and pinned above each ear. “Well, Mr. Railroad Inspector, are you ready for your first day at work?”

Robert stopped by the cook stove and planted a soft kiss behind her ear. There was a strong aroma of rose perfume. “It's not exactly like the first day of school.” He strolled over to the doorway to the dining room.

“You're right. I didn't have to pack a lunch bucket for you.” Jamie Sue scooted by carrying a copper pan with a hotpad. “I do wish I had my serving dishes.”

Robert carefully hung his gray suit coat on the back of the chair. “It is somewhat ironic that we left the army to have more time together as a family, and on my first day of work I'm going to be gone for a couple of days,” he murmured.

“It is logical that they need you to set things up at Rapid City.” Jamie Sue fluttered back to the kitchen, taking the rose fragrance with her. “Besides, you aren't facing renegade Chirachuas, but railroad rules and bookkeepers,” she called out.

Robert took a deep breath of crisp fried bacon. “I'd rather face the Indians.”

She waltzed back in carrying a napkin-covered basket of biscuits. “It should be a pleasant enough trip. You don't have to take control of train security for a week or so. Let's sit down. There's no telling when the children will get up. I thought they should get their sleep this morning.”

The back door slammed shut as Little Frank sprinted into the dining room.

“Slow down and wash your hands, then come eat,” Robert insisted.

Little Frank disappeared into the kitchen. “Guess where I've been?” he called out.

“In the backyard, I presume?” his mother answered.

Little Frank appeared at the doorway, towel in hand. “No, I was down at the livery and . . .”

Jamie Sue laid her fork on her plate. “You were where?”

Little Frank scooted into the chair between his mother and father. “Down at the Montana Stables and . . .”

“At 7:00 A.M.?” Jamie Sue challenged.

“Actually, I was down there at daylight and . . .”

Jamie Sue took the milk pitcher and poured Little Frank's glass full. “Wait a minute . . . you took off downtown and didn't tell your parents?”

Little Frank scooped out a large mound of scrambled eggs. “I hollered at you, Mama. Would you please pass the Tabasco?”

His mother passed the hot sauce. “When did you holler at me?”

“About 5:30.”

“You yelled at me at 5:30 in the morning?” his mother challenged.

The bite of eggs towered out of his fork and into his mouth. “Yeah, didn't you hear me?” he mumbled.

Jamie Sue took a sip of strong, bitter coffee. “I couldn't hear a stick of dynamite if it exploded under my bed at 5:30 in the morning!”

Little Frank waved his empty fork as he talked. “Daddy was already gone down to the hardware. So I headed that way but met up with Quintin Troop and he . . .”

“What about Quintin?” Patricia, clad in pink cotton robe and matching slippers, scooted into the dining room. Her long brown hair hung down her back, almost to her waist.

Little Frank clanked down his fork and rubbed his long, thin nose. “I was just saying that Quint and I . . .”

“Quint? Do you really call him Quint?” Patricia quizzed.

“Will you let me finish the story?”

“I wonder if he'd get mad if I called him Quint?” she replied.

“I can't imagine Quintin getting angry about anything,” Robert offered. “He's too much like his daddy.” He motioned for Patricia to pass the pomegranate jelly.

Veronica, clad in pink robe and matching slippers, brown hair combed out and hanging almost to her waist, scurried up to the table. “Who is like his father?”

“We're talking about Quint . . .” Patricia grinned.

“Quintin Troop? You call him Quint?” Veronica gasped.

“This conversation doesn't seem be going anywhere,” Jamie Sue protested. “Sit down. Now that we're all here, Daddy can pray a blessing for the day.”

When Robert finished, Little Frank spooned into a bowl of grits. “Quint and I swung by the livery so I could show him the racehorses . . .”

“You're wearing my robe,” Veronica challenged her sister, who sat next to her.

“I am not. This is my robe,” Patricia insisted.

“Girls!” Jamie Sue scolded, “Little Frank is telling us something.”

Little Frank gulped down a fat wad of grits. “We thought we would just peek at the horses, but the trainer was exercising them and we got to see the way they . . .”

“That is too my robe. This one has a tea stain on the cuff. See?” Veronica held up her arm. “You were the one that put your arm in the tea yesterday.”

“Yes, but I was wearing your robe when I did it because you had taken my robe.”

“I did not!”

“Yes you did. When Grandpa brought them over, he gave me the first robe out of the box. And when we carried them up the stairs and laid them on the bed, you switched robes.”

“I did not.” Veronica had one small spoonful of eggs on her large, otherwise-empty plate.

“You know you did. So the robe I got the tea on is not my robe but your robe and . . .”

“Girls!” Robert barked. “This is the silliest discussion I have ever heard in my life. Sit still. Eat more than one bite of eggs. And let your brother finish his story.”

Little Frank took a slice of bacon in his fingers, folded it into a small square, then crammed the whole piece in his mouth. “Ehfm, knin mmgn . . .”

“Wait until you chew that bite,” Jamie Sue insisted.

“Say, Mama, how would you like to go with me to Rapid City for a couple days,” Robert teased.

“I'd love to. The children will have to fend for themselves.” Jamie Sue took another sip of coffee.

“What?” Veronica gasped.

“We're teasing,” Robert explained. “But I want you to mind your mama and be helpful while I'm away. Little Frank, stop eating for a minute and finish your story.”

“The horse trainer said he was promised a one-mile horse track to race the horses on if he brought them to Deadwood.”

“But we don't have a mile-long horse track,” Robert pressed.

“Exactly.” Little Frank glanced across the table. “'Nica, are you goin' to eat that bacon?”

“No.”

“Yes, she is,” Jamie Sue announced.

“Well,” Little Frank continued, “the trainer is going to have to extend the track. Homestake Mine is furnishing the property free, but he has to clear it, level it, and put in some guardrails. He said if me and Quint help him for the next couple of weeks, he'll let us use the grounds for baseball after the horse racing is over. Won't that be swell to have a full-size field?”

“So, this man gets you two boys to work for free? What kind of man would employ child labor and refuse to pay them?” Jamie Sue said.

“But, Mama, we would be gettin' paid. We have us a nice baseball field. We work for two weeks and we have a place to play baseball all summer. That's a good deal, isn't it?”

She glanced over at her husband. “Robert?”

“I don't reckon it could hurt. He can't work at the lumber mill. So a little physical work and experience working with others won't hurt any.”

Jamie Sue surveyed the bite piled on her fork. “I don't like the thought of him hanging around with horse-race gamblers. No telling what bad habits he could be exposed to.” She took a deep breath, then crammed the grits into her mouth.

“That gambling crowd won't be out chopping brush and shoveling dirt to make a longer horse track,” Robert countered. “The only habits he'll learn will be an aching back and callouses on his hands.”

“Yes, well, we do have some chores around the house. I'll expect you to continue with those,” she lectured.

“Yes, ma'am. You mean, I can do it?”

“If Quintin does it too. I like having you boys work together.”

“I haven't even seen Quintin since we've moved to Deadwood.” Veronica's slippers tapped on the floor as she talked.

Jamie Sue scraped up another bite of grits as if it were foul-tasting medicine. “You could have gone over with me yesterday afternoon.”

“My dress was dirty, and we don't have our trunks yet,” Veronica complained.

“Daddy, will we get our trunks today?” Patricia asked.

Robert wiped biscuit crumbs off his neatly trimmed mustache. “That's the first thing I'm going to check on when I get to Rapid City.”

“I think it's funny that Daddy went to work for the same railroad that lost our baggage,” Little Frank added.

“The trunks are not lost. Just misplaced,” Robert insisted.

Little Frank crammed his mouth with half a buttered biscuit, then jumped up. “Can I be excused, Mama? I want to go tell Quint that you'll let me help build the racetrack.”

“Quiet Jim and Columbia have agreed to let Quintin participate, I presume?” Jamie Sue probed.

“Oh, no, he was afraid to ask them. But he said if you let me do it, then he knew they would too!” He scurried toward the back door.

“Little Frank, your father will be gone for two days,” Jamie Sue called out.

Little Frank stuck his head back into the kitchen. “Bye, Daddy. Will you have to shoot any train robbers this time?”

Robert dipped his biscuit into the grits and honey. “I'm leaving that chore to your mother.”

“She really surprised me when she did that,” Little Frank added as he banged his way out onto the back porch.

Patricia made a roadway through her grits with the back of her fork, then brushed some biscuit crumbs off the sleeve of her pink robe. “Daddy, I really, really like my new robe and night shirt, but I was wondering,” she murmured. “How come Grandpa Brazos gives me and 'Nica so much stuff?”

“I suppose because he hasn't had you close by all these years and he's wanting to make up.”

Patricia bit her lip. “But he hasn't given Little Frank anything.”

“He will. You wait and see. It's just that you girls needed some things a little more urgently than your brother,” Robert explained.

Veronica took a big sip of milk and wiped the white mustache off with a napkin. “I think Amber is jealous of our new furniture.”

“Did she say that?” Jamie Sue inquired.

“No, but I can tell by the way she sneered at it. Amber is very good at sneering,” Veronica insisted.

Robert emptied the grits bowl on his plate, scraping it clean. “Amber is naturally dramatic, like her mother.”

“What was Amber's father like?” Patricia asked.

“We never knew him, but Aunt Rebekah and Dacee June did for a very short time before he was killed. He was a doctor.”

Patricia spooned her grits onto her father's plate. “Amber says she has some stepsisters and brothers back in Tennessee that she's never met.”

Robert ladled thick honey on his mound of grits. “That's what I understand.”

“That would be strange, having brothers and sisters you never met,” Veronica added. “Do we have any sisters we haven't met?”

“Young lady!” Robert scolded.

“I was just teasing.”

“Years ago, your Aunt Abby and Amber went through some difficult times.” Jamie Sue smeared a small dollop of jelly across her biscuit.

Veronica was now rocking back and forth in her chair. “I like Amber.”

“So do I,” Jamie Sue added. “She makes a delightful big sister to all you cousins.”

“Oh, Mama, Aunt Dacee June is the one that acts like our big sister.” Patricia nibbled like a chipmunk at her bacon.

“That's true,” Robert grinned. “She doesn't know how to be any other way. But it might not hurt if you girls didn't go on and on about all the things Daddy Brazos bought you,” he cautioned.

“I think we should paint our trunk pink when it gets here, so it will match everything else in our room,” Patricia suggested.

“I think we have the most beautiful bedroom in Deadwood,” Veronica said.

“I get the bed near the window tonight,” Patricia insisted.

“I don't see why we have to trade back and forth,” Veronica whined.

“Alright, then I'll take the bed by the window every night.”

“No, you won't.”

“What is this argument?” Robert pressed.

“It seems that a certain brown-haired boy can be seen in his backyard if you have the correct angle from the girl's bedroom window,” Jamie Sue explained.

“In that case, I'll nail shutters over the window.”

“Daddy!”

He turned to Jamie Sue. “You know, a nice peaceful trip to Rapid City sounds very relaxing.”

By ten o'clock Jamie Sue Fortune was alone in a house they had occupied only three days. She walked through the rooms carrying a cup of strong black coffee.

My linens aren't here. My dishes aren't here. My knickknacks are in a crate somewhere . . . all those touches that will make this house mine are misplaced in some railroad depot. It's almost like being in a hotel room in a strange city. Nothing is really settled.