Page 56 of Wagon Train Hope
“Because the railroad goes here.” He indicated the water tower.
They marched down the street that bordered the tracks. Previous rains rutted it, and the odor of animal droppings stung her eyes as she scanned the local services. The usual—a general store with cast iron pots, ropes, and a pyramid of dry goods in the window. A blacksmith shop with metal on metal ringing out. A lawyer’s office with the nameAnthony Ward, Attorney-at-Lawin large letters in the window. A modest church with a small steeple. A saddlemaker’s shop and, of course, the train depot, though it was more compact than she was used to seeing.
They parted ways at the store. Walt, with Irene at his side, headed for the saddle shop with its sign saying, “Shoes made and repaired.”
A woodsy aroma of cured leather greeted them as they stepped inside. She’d expected an older, stooped man, but a tall, broad-shouldered younger man greeted them.
“Howdy. Nice to see visitors. How can I help you folk?” His words held a pleasant lilt. His shock of red hair appeared to have a mind of its own, poking out like he’d been in a windstorm.
Walt deposited the sack on the counter. “Can I leave these here?”
The man bent to open the sack and drew back at the smell. “Where did you get all the boots?”
When Walt told the story, the redheaded man burst out laughing. “I expect they’ll be mighty upset at you.” He sobered. “Would they be from Royal? I hear nothing but bad about that place.”
“They were indeed. Do you mind keeping them until someone comes looking for them?”
The man ran a hand over his hair, messing it more. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll put them on the next train headed east. That way, there’s no need for any of them to come here.”
Beside her, Walt stiffened.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I never thought how it might bring trouble to a place.”
The redheaded man laughed. “We’ve learned to stand up to bullies. Now, can I help you with anything else?” He waved to indicate the displays in his store.
They wandered around, inspecting belts, chaps, saddles—all of which she expected in such a store. What she didn’t expect was the beautiful hand-tooled designs.
She picked up a leather-bound journal tooled with a Bible verse.Hitherto hath the Lord helped us (I Sam. 7:12).She ran her fingers along the smooth leather and across the indentation of the letters. The words were a reminder of things she and Walt had discussed. God’s care and protection. Smiling, she put the book back in place.
The redheaded man stood before the window, staring out. “The Harrison girls are in town again.” Something in his tone suggested this was a matter of great interest.
Irene moved closer. Two young ladies, one tall and dark, the other shorter and younger but with the same dark , sauntered up the street. “Is that a bad thing?”
He sighed. “Eh, and doesn’t their father keep a tight rein on them? They escape his control from time to time andmake it this far before he thunders after them. ’Tis sad. I fear they’ll do something foolish to get free of him.” He leaned closer to watch them cross the street. “The older one is Faith, the younger one, Temperance.”
“You care about them.” She hadn’t meant to blurt out her observation and regretted it when his face reddened.
“I might, but it won’t do me any good. Their father would never allow me to court her.”
“I’m sorry.”
Walt was still admiring the displays.
“I’m going to the general store.” Irene didn’t move, secretly hoping he’d offer to accompany her. But he joined the man watching out the window. He gave her a little wave, his attention on the pair headed toward the saddlery shop.
Walt’s eager expression matched that of the man beside him.
She eyed the young ladies as she stepped outside. They wore their hair pulled back and hanging in ringlets. They each had on a demure dress—tight around the neck, buttoned at the wrists, and only the tip of their shoes showing beneath the hem—both dresses were muted gray. Bonnets hid much of their faces.
Sure, they were as ladylike as one could hope for. No trousers or loose hair on this pair.
But she’d hoped Walt was past judging her for what she wore and accepted her for who she was.
Walt hopedto make his exit before the young ladies reached the shop, but he barely slipped his package into his shirt when the pair entered.
“Good day, Mr. O’Conner.”
“Good day to you, Miss Harrison and Miss Harrison.”
