“Now, Rolly, she only just got here. Let her catch her wind. You don't want to bother her with the paper.” The owner made the protest on her behalf. He let out a little groan as he straightened up again and pressed the palms of his hands to his lower back.
“You have a handsome family, Mrs. Ross.”
“Thank you, Mr. Michaels.”
“I'd be pleased as punch if you'd call me Frank.”
“Then you must call me Taylor,” she replied.
“I'd be honored to,” Frank told her.
Rolly wasn't going to be deterred or ignored. “She gave me her agreement, Frank. I heard her clear.”
Taylor didn't know what he was talking about. Before she could ask what it was she had just agreed to, Rolly took hold of her hand, tucked it tight under his elbow, and pulled her back to the doorway. Rolly had to pass Hunter in order to get outside. The giant stopped, gave Hunter a worried look, then muttered, “Hunter.” He added a nod to complete the greeting.
Hunter was just as ungracious. He frowned at Rolly, nodded his greeting, and then added his name in a grudging tone of voice. “Rolly.”
They proceeded on. Rolly stopped when they reached the steps. He bellowed his order. “Get the crate, boys. We got us a reader.”
A resounding cheer went up. Taylor was astonished by the reaction. A crate appeared out of thin air and was placed on the boardwalk next to her. She stared down at it and then turned to look up at the giant again.
He handed her the paper and lifted her up to stand on the crate. Another man dragged out a rocking chair from the store. Rolly nodded to the man and then took his seat.
“Mama, what are you doing?” Georgie asked.
Taylor looked down at her daughter and shrugged. “I don't have the faintest idea,” she whispered.
“Your mama's going to read us the news,” Rolly explained. He gave Taylor a wave. “Get it started then.”
Taylor looked at Hunter to see what he thought about the man's behavior. Hunter was standing just outside the entrance to the store, looking bored and unconcerned.
She unfolded the paper. It was the
Rosewood Herald.
She had never heard of the town. Then she noticed the date.
“Why, this paper's two weeks old.”
“It's still going to be news to us,” Rolly explained.
“We used to get lots of papers from the mining camps clustered up in the mountains,” another man called out. “But we all prefer the
Rosewood Herald,
don't we, Rolly?”
“It seems we do,” he agreed.
Taylor was dying to ask if her first impression was accurate. Didn't any of them know how to read? She didn't wish to offend their feelings, however. She had to be wrong, she thought. In this advanced day and age, surely some of them could read.
She decided to take a roundabout way of finding out. “Who read the paper before I was given the honor?”
Everyone looked to Rolly to answer. “Well, now, Frank usually did the reading. Then his glasses got cracked, and he hasn't had time to get them fixed.”
“Then there was Earl,” someone called out.
Rolly nodded. “We weren't partial to his reading. He had a hacking cough that got in the way of the news.”
“Henry read once,” Frank reminded Rolly from the doorway.
“He stuttered,” Rolly interjected. “Drove me crazy,” he added with a nod. “I almost shot him.”
“You did shoot him,” Frank reminded the giant.
Taylor's eyes widened. Rolly clarified his action. “That was for a different reason. Get it started,” he ordered Taylor once again.
She looked over the crowd of men, their expressions earnest, expectant, and she did the only thing she could do. She read.
They wouldn't let her skip any section. She was expected to read every word in print. It took her close to forty-five minutes, as the paper was four sheets thick, and she counted her blessings Rolly hadn't handed her the
Denver Post
. It would have taken her hours to read the paper. She was interrupted with hoots of laughter over anything the least bit humorous and long discussions over the bad news.
Her audience was very appreciative. When she finished reading the last notice and folded the paper, they clapped and shouted their thank-yous. Someone she hadn't met yet told her she had a right nice pretty voice.
Taylor felt that she'd learned two things. The first was the fact that the men craved hearing news from the outside world. They obviously weren't content to live in their own little realm, they wanted to know what was going on all around them. They weren't passive Americans, and from the heated way they debated the issues, she realized they all took an active interest in their government. The second thing was about Rolly. The other townsmen gave the giant a wide path. He sat all by himself, and from the looks some of the others cast his way, she concluded they were afraid of the giant. He seemed harmless enough to her.
Taylor jumped down off the crate and handed the paper to the man. “Here you are, Mr. Rolly. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a hundred things to do before nightfall.”
The giant stood up. “We'll see you Sunday then?”
“Sunday?”
“For the reading,” he explained. “Harrison brings the paper on Fridays or Saturdays. We would all wait until Sunday to hear you read.”
“I would be happy to read on Sunday,” she agreed.
Rolly bowed to her. “I'd be willing to show you my appreciation, Mrs. Ross.” He turned to glare at the crowd. “It's only right.”
Heads bobbed up and down in rapid succession. Taylor surmised Rolly didn't want to be seen as thoughtful or courteous.
“Is there something in particular you might be needing?” he asked her.
“We need lodging, Mr. Rolly,” Taylor explained. “Could you tell me if there are any vacant houses in the area? I know it's probably wishful thinking on my part, but we'll be more than willing to live in an abandoned soddie for a while. Do you know of anything?”
Rolly smiled at her and then turned to the audience watching from the street.
“She's wanting a house, men. Anyone disagree?”
The giant waited a full minute and then turned back to Taylor. “It's settled.”
“What is settled?” she asked.
“Your house,” he explained. “We'll start building you one tomorrow.”
Her mouth dropped open. Rolly picked up the rocking chair and took it back inside. As he passed her, he suggested she pick her spot this afternoon.
He wasn't jesting with her. She told him he was being overly generous. He told her he didn't mind. No one else minded either, she realized. One gentleman told her the only way they could be certain she'd stay on is if they provided a home for her.
“We don't want Ross hiding you in the mountains,” one earnest-looking young man admitted.
Frank Michaels had stayed outside to listen to Taylor read the paper. He had already scanned the news but he liked listening to the sound of her voice. “You could all sleep in Callaghan's house tonight,” he suggested. “It's nice and sound.”
“It's got wood floors,” someone called out.
“Callaghan won't be back until summer,” Frank told her.
“Won't he mind if we use his house?” Taylor asked.
“It ain't Callaghan's,” Rolly explained. “He just took a liking to it. He ran the owners off years ago. They.deeded the place to Lewis.”
The freckle-faced young man named Billy stepped forward. “Whenever Callaghan comes to town, he stays in the house. No one knows how he gets inside. The house has four fancy glass windows, but none of them have been broken. He sure doesn't get in that way. There are locks on both doors, too. He's a crazy old mountain man,” he added with a nod. “You don't want to be running into him.”
“A real mountain man?” Taylor repeated the words in a whisper.
“I don't believe you should stay there unless your husband agrees. Where is Ross?” Frank asked.
“On an important errand,” she answered. “He's really a mountain man?”
“Who?” Rolly asked.
“Callaghan,” she explained.
“He's a real one, all right,” Rolly confirmed with a nod.
“Would Mr. Lewis be willing to sell the house?” she asked then.
“He's wanting to sell it,” Frank explained. “The couple who left made him their agent. Lewis holds the papers, and if he ever sells the place, he'll keep his cut and send the rest on to St. Louis. That's where the past owners were headed. You aren't thinking you want to buy the place, are you?”
“Lewis is the town's lawyer,” Billy said.
Taylor was impressed. For a town this size to boast a legal advisor was quite a surprise. Then Frank pointed out the fact that Lewis had never had any formal schooling. He'd read a couple of books, followed a fancy attorney around for the year that he lived in Virginia City, and when he settled in Redemption, he put his own shingle out. Lawyers apparently didn't need diplomas.
“Does Mr. Lewis have specific office hours?”
The men found her question vastly amusing. When they stopped laughing, Frank explained Lewis didn't have an office. He owned the stable, and when he wasn't busy taking care of the horses, he took care of any legal matters.
“Why doesn't he read the paper for you?” Taylor asked then.
“He charged too much money,” Rolly explained. “Frank, I'm thinking she'll be safe enough. If Callaghan knows she's married to Ross, he'll leave her alone. He won't tangle with him.”
Victoria came back into the general store with the twins trailing behind.
“Where's David Daniel?” Taylor asked.
“He's helping Hunter with the horses.”
“I thought the boy's name was Daniel David,” Frank commented. “I must have gotten it wrong.”
Taylor shook her head. “You weren't wrong. He's both names until he decides which one he wants,” she explained. “Mr. Rolly, would you please direct me to Mr. Lewis's stable?”
“I'd be honored, Mrs. Ross.”
Taylor turned to give Victoria a quick summary of the conversation she'd missed.
“Does the house have wooden floors?” she asked.
Rolly told her it did. Victoria looked like she was going to swoon, so pleased was she with that bit of news.
One hour later, sight unseen, Taylor was the proud owner of a two-story house with wooden floors and four fancy glass windows. She and Victoria had also requested papers so that they could file for a hundred and sixty acres of land under the Homesteaders' Act. Lewis didn't believe either woman would qualify. Victoria was still a British subject and therefore might not be able to own land in America. He didn't know if Taylor could file either, since she was married and Lucas might have already filed.
It didn't take Taylor any time at all to come to the conclusion that Mr. Lewis was a complete nitwit when it came to understanding and interpreting the law. Even she realized that Lucas would have to sign the papers to transfer ownership, but Lewis was ready to record the deed on her signature alone. He used fancy words to muddle up the legal issue and hide his ignorance.
She insisted on taking the papers with her for her husband's signature. Lewis took the twenty dollars she gave him as a down payment. He congratulated her on her new home. She wasn't certain she owned anything, but she shook his hand anyway.
Hunter waited with Victoria and the children outside the stable. Taylor showed him the papers and then explained what she had done. He didn't try to argue with her or remind her that there was still time to turn around and go back to civilization. His reaction was actually quite bizarre. He laughed until tears came into his eyes.
Hunter, Victoria, and Daniel David walked down the center of the street. Taylor and the twins followed. Georgie needed her shoe retied, and by the time she got the child to stop dancing around her long enough for her to make a proper bow, the trio in front of her had made it all the way back to the general store.
Everyone wanted to see the house before nightfall. Hunter lifted Victoria up on the wagon seat and then put Daniel David next to her. He turned to wait for Taylor.
She caught hold of her daughters' hands and tried to quicken their pace. They walked toward the west. The sky was glorious with the sunset. A vibrant orange crown with red trimmings circled the sun and Taylor's breath caught in her throat while she stared up at the magnificent sight. She was entranced.
Georgie pulled her back to reality. “There's the man, Mama.”
“What man, sweetheart?” she asked, barely pausing in her adoration to look down.
“Our man, Mama,” Allie said.
Taylor came to a dead stop. Dear God, how could she have missed him? Their man, as Allie had called him, was standing in the center of the road. The distance was too great for her to see his expression. She guessed he was frowning.
“We're in for it now,” she whispered.
She wanted to turn around and run for safety. She immediately pushed the idea aside. She wasn't afraid of Lucas. Yes, he would be angry with her, but after a little while, he'd see the rightness in what she'd done. She sincerely hoped he wouldn't kill her first.
She straightened her shoulders and started walking again. The closer she got, the more alarmed she became. He was dressed in buckskin and wore both of his guns in his gunbelt low on his hips. His hands were at his sides. She suddenly had the bizarre feeling that she was walking toward a showdown. Or a shootout. Lucas had the advantage. Lord, she really needed to get hold of herself. It was the sunlight making him look magical and invincible to her. Golden streaks flowed all around him. By the trickery of the sunset, it appeared he had just walked out of the sun.