a livery, a blacksmith, a grocery store—all the usual businesses, plus a few which he could not see from where he stood.
The engine let off more steam, and children playing nearby screamed and laughed. Children loved steam engines. Fact was, so did grown men. He agreed they were certainly something to see, and he admitted to admiring their beastly qualities, the huge steel wheels, the very mightiness of a locomotive engine. There was something very masculine about a steam engine.
Well, what’s this? he thought. He’d spotted something quite the opposite of masculine. She was as feminine as could be, and quite a sight for a lonely man’s eyes. A young woman approached, with hair as bright as a hot yellow sun, and eyes as blue as the sky. Although the dress she wore was a far cry from designer-made, it fit her divine figure in ways that were pleasing to the eye. In spite of its plainness, and the fact that the woman obviously wore no special color on her face and no jewelry, she was beautiful. It struck him he’d never seen a woman so plain yet so lovely.
The three men who accompanied the woman were as burly and rugged as the woman was beautiful and feminine. They were tall, light-haired, blue-eyed brutes who were obviously uncomfortable in their ill-made Sunday suits, men who were probably better suited to coveralls and pitchforks. No one could doubt they were farmers, especially from the way the sun had darkened and toughened their fair skin. Jude actually found himself feeling grateful that the woman with them showed little sign of sun-induced aging. She probably had sense enough to wear a wide-brimmed bonnet when out of doors, although today she wore a simple straw hat decorated with a few blue silk flowers.
He couldn’t help noticing the four of them, since they marched close to his Pullman, the three men showing obvious scorn at the sight of the car and its passenger. The woman, on the other hand, appeared more curious than angry, and since Jude had grown accustomed to young women fawning over him, he actually felt disappointment that this particular young woman showed no such interest. He gave her his most charming smile, and she immediately took on a look of wariness, accompanied by a bit of an air, her chin rising slightly, determined contempt coming into those amazing blue eyes. Two of the men with her appeared older, more fatherly, but one was younger, and that one stepped closer then, an obvious challenge in his eyes.
“Who are you, mister? You look like one of them fancy railroad men. Ve don’t vant no railroad men coming here!”
Jude guessed he was probably the woman’s brother or, heaven forbid, her husband. To think that she might have a husband greatly disturbed Jude, and then he realized how absurd it was to care. Because she wore gloves he couldn’t see her left hand. The younger man stood there with his fists clenched at his side, so Jude couldn’t see his left hand, either. Then again, maybe big, rugged Swedish farmers didn’t wear wedding rings. Deducing that the man was Swedish was quite simple, considering the easily discernible accent in the few short words he’d spoken.
“It might be nice to have a chance to introduce myself and be welcomed into your town,” Jude told him.
“Ve don’t velcome thieves in Plum Creek,” the big Swede answered.
“Yeah!”
“That’s right!”
More men had gathered and were backing up the Swede.
“You people don’t even know who I am or why I’m here,” Jude told them. Clearly, this job was going to be much harder than he’d thought. He hadn’t even set foot on solid ground in Plum Creek, yet these people were ready to ride him right back out.
“Carl, we just left church, for goodness’ sake,” the lovely young woman told the Swede. “Where are your manners?”
Good for you, Jude thought. She’s no withering flower. “Yes, Carl, where are your manners?” he spoke aloud, now that he’d heard the man’s name.
“Don’t need manners around the likes of you. Ve have heard a railroad man vas coming here to tell us ve must get off our farms. It is illegal! If you are the one come to tell us, go avay!”
Now even more people gathered. Jude eyed the young blond woman, who looked apologetic. A young boy of perhaps nine or ten ran up to her then, and Jude’s hopes fell. Though she looked too young, she must be the boy’s mother, which meant the big Swede was probably her husband. Now, why in the world did that disappoint him?
More voices were raised, and Jude put up his hands to silence them. “Look, everyone, my name is Jude Kingman, of Kingman Enterprises in Chicago. And yes, I am here to talk to some of you about your farms, but don’t go getting all excited and defensive. I’ll be here throughout the summer, and I am not here to tell you that you can’t plant and harvest your crops this year. Just go ahead and work your farms as you would any other time. I assure you I am only here to look things over and study the problems that might arise over a land issue with the railroad—and that I fully intend to find a way to absolve those problems without huge losses to anyone.”
“Fancy talk! That’s all you’re about!” another man shouted. “Go on back to Chicago!”
The blond-haired woman appeared completely exasperated with all of them. Glancing angrily at the big Swede, she turned to the young boy and grabbed his arm, walking off with him. Jude was actually disappointed he’d not got her name.
“I’m not leaving anytime soon,” Jude told the crowd. “I will probably make my railroad parlor car into an office while I’m here, and gradually I will be coming out to visit some of you on your farms—just to talk. Any of you are welcome to come and see me whenever I’m in town. I fully intend to hear your side of this matter and do my best to keep the peace.” He glanced around at all of them, an intimidating crowd indeed, made up of big, tough farmers and stern women who could probably hold their own against any of the men.
“You’ll talk to us, all right,” another man shouted, “then ignore everything we tell you and stab us in the back! Anybody can see you’re a rich man come here to do a rich man’s business, which is to walk all over the poor, so don’t be telling us lies about why you’re here.”
“I am not a liar, sir,” Jude answered. “I assure you, I have only the best of intentions, and I will be far more open to your needs than some of the other men who might have been sent here for the job. Don’t waste an opportunity to possibly save your farms.”
“There! You see?” the big Swede shouted. “He is already talking about saving our farms. You know what that means!”
“Yeah!”
“Yeah!”
“Is this how you always greet strangers in Plum Creek?” Jude shouted above them. He refused to show any sign of intimidation. “Perhaps I’d be better off talking with your sheriff and perhaps your town preacher. They might know a little more about how you should be conducting yourselves. I’ve not said one word about coming here to do you harm, nor have I been so rude and unwelcoming as all of you have been toward me. One would think I’d come here packing six-guns and a whip! I believe a good many of you walked over here from Sunday church services. Is this what God teaches about welcoming strangers?”
A few of them took on rather sheepish looks.
“I will hold town meetings as soon as I can get things organized,” Jude added then, keeping his voice raised. “I will be every bit a gentleman and I expect the same from good, Christian people like yourselves.”
He waited, hoping his talent for exuding charm and saying the right words when necessary would calm them. A few
