“When he thought to do other things more grievous, I ran away. I was twelve.”
God forgive me when I whine, Ned thought, appalled. “Won’t happen here,” he told her. “Have a lemon drop. Things are going to get better.”
Eyes still lowered, she took a lemon drop from the proffered bag. “You still want me to work for you?”
“Yes. Girls of ten or twelve don’t have much say in things, do they?”
She shook her head. “I walked to Massachusetts, sleeping in barns and doing odd jobs, and became a mill girl. I’ll be a good chore girl and I won’t run away.”
Kate put aside the magazine, and looked out the soot-grimed window, as if searching for scenery.
“You’re looking in the wrong direction, if you’re after scenery,” Ned told her, impressed with her bravery. He pointed across the aisle. “That seat’s empty. Take a look.”
Intrigued, she did, and was rewarded with an eye-filling view of a mountain rising out of all that empty space.
“Elk Mountain,” he said, coming across the aisle to sit beside her. “It’s the northernmost mountain in the Snowy Range. My ranch is by that river over there. We’re seven miles from Medicine Bow.”
“Practically next door to a town,” she added.
He liked her smile and her handsome high cheekbones. He liked even more that she thought to tease him. “Out West, that’s the truth,” he replied. “Pa was here early, so we have river acreage. He came with a railroad crew, laying this track that we’re riding on. He liked what he saw, and stayed.”
“How many acres?” she asked.
“Better question is, how many cattle do we run?”
“Well, then...”
“One thousand, all behind bob wire, because we learned our lesson sooner’n three years ago, when we had a bitch of a winter and the cattle all drifted and died. Pardon my language.”
She made a little gesture with her hand, and he continued. It still wasn’t a good memory. “Some of the ranchers twitted us earlier about fencing our property. Sure we lost cattle in ’87, but not as many as the stockmen whose beeves drifted.”
“What happened?”
“They’re mostly gone.”
“The tough survived?”
Just like you, he thought, impressed. “Guess so. You should do fine, Katie Peck.”
To Katie’s eyes, Medicine Bow looked no better and no worse than Laramie, only smaller. She let Ned Avery take her tin trunk and followed him from the train. She waited on a bench by the stable while he and the liveryman hitched one horse to a small wagon, such as she had never seen back East.
“It’s a buckboard,” he said, as he helped her in. “One stop and we’ll head home.”
He pulled up in front of Bradley’s Mercantile. He must have ordered everything before he left Medicine Bow, because he came out in a few minutes with more wrapped packages, plus a paper bag, which he set in her lap.
“Pirozhki,” he said. “Some Roosians moved here from Nebraska and we can’t get enough of them. Two for each of us. Hand me one, once I get us over the tracks.”
She did as he said, enjoying her pork roll while he coaxed the horse across the railroad track. She handed him one, which he downed quickly, then the other, which disappeared about as fast. He protested when she offered him her second one, but not for long.
“Apples in the barrel behind you,” he said, and she produced two. “Barrel at home is nearly empty.” One satisfied her, but Ned needed two more apples.
“Just seven miles, so we’re practically in town,” he told her as they bumped along. She tried to brace herself so she wouldn’t nudge his shoulder, but the seat was so narrow. “I wanted to take my pa to Medicine Bow, where he could stay with the doctor and get better care, but he won’t have it.”
“Yours must be a nice place, if he won’t leave it.”
He shrugged. “Pa fought for the Confederacy, and came out here with nothing.”
“Your mother, too?”
“A little later. I was born in Mississippi. As soon as he had a holding out here, he sent for us.”
“Mr. Ave...”
“Ned.”
“No, it’s a Mr. Avery subject,” she insisted, which made him chuckle. “Mr. Avery, I can probably manage without a room of my own. I’m asking too much.”
He stopped the team. “Have you ever asked for anything before, Miss Peck?”
Embarrassed, she thought a moment. “I never dared.”
“I think maybe you’re overdue. It won’t kill Pete and me to spend a night in the barn.”
She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it, because she wanted that room. “Very well.”
“Is the matter closed?”
“Yes.”
“Good thing, because I don’t like to argue about stuff that needs to happen.” Ned pointed to a spot where the road turned toward the river they had been paralleling. “We’ll be on Avery land soon.”
She hung on to the seat and pushed hard against the footboard as Ned guided his team into the river. She looked around, pleased with the bright yellow leaves that seemed to shiver as they passed. She thought of winter to come, and suppressed an involuntary shiver of her own.
“You need a warmer coat. Didn’t anyone ever look after you?”
“No.” She winced inside at how bleak and bald the word sounded, and she wondered just when she had gotten used to mostly nothing.
They topped a small rise, then Ned coaxed his horse down into a lovely valley. October winds may have been blowing cold, but she liked what she saw, except for what had to be Ned Avery’s home. She pointed.
“Yep. It’s a real sow’s ear. I guess we just got used to it,” he said, and she heard all the apology in his voice.
A body gets used to a lot of things, she thought, and wondered just when she had given up. Another thought struck her. For the first time since she couldn’t remember, someone was looking after her. It was a pleasant thought. She doubted Mr. Avery saw it that way, since he had made a business deal with her, but she felt herself relax, somewhere inside her body, or maybe it was her mind. She waited for the feeling to leave, but it seemed to settle in, like a cat on a hearth.
In a short time, she stood in the middle of a little kitchen, being introduced to a woman who looked as capable as Ned. “Pleased to meet
