A Chance at Love (13 page)

“You've been saying that since last December, Solomon. If you don't wish to come, just say so.”

“I don't wish to come.”

She sniffed huffily, then started walking in Loreli's direction, toward the bank's front door.

Loreli judged Mrs. Diggs to be in her late thirties. She had soft brown skin and was dressed in a mauve walking gown far too expensive for a backwater like this. Her hair was up, her hat fashionable, and when her eyes met Loreli's, they were cool as February.

Diggs appeared more enthusiastic. “Ah, Miss Winters, I hope I haven't kept you waiting for very long?”

“No more than a minute or so.”

Sol made the introductions. “Vicki, I want you to meet Miss Loreli Winters. Miss Winters, my wife, Victoria.”

The woman's manner didn't warm up one bit. She nodded tightly. “Miss Winters.”

“Mrs. Diggs.”

Victoria asked in a haughty voice, “You're one of the wagon-train women, aren't you?”

“I am.”

Victoria Diggs looked Loreli up and down, then, as if Loreli had taken up enough of her time, pointedly turned back to her husband. “Do try and make the club meeting, Solomon. As town leaders, we have appearances to maintain.” With that said, she swept from the room as if she were Queen Victoria.

Loreli, a bit stunned, stood there in the silence for a moment, then raised an eyebrow Diggs's way.

“Sorry about that, Miss Winters,” he stated with irrita
tion. “She's from Philadelphia, and she's never forgiven me for moving her out here.”

“No apology necessary,” Loreli replied, although she sarcastically wondered when moving from Philadelphia had become an excuse for rude behavior.

Diggs asked then, “So, what can I do for you today, Miss Winters?”

“I'd like to buy Mr. Peterson's mortgage.”

As if he hadn't heard her, Diggs bent forward and asked, “Excuse me?”

“Mr. Peterson's mortgage—I'd like to purchase it.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because I do. I heard you talking with him yesterday, and since I own a bit of real estate back East—thought I'd see what I can pick up while I'm here. I'll give you your asking price, plus an ample commission for the bank.”

He scrutinized her silently for a moment. “Is that why you wanted to know how much he owed?”

A poker-faced Loreli lied, “Yes.”

He smiled, and his eyes glinted greedily. “Well, let's go into my office.”

He called to Cyrus, “Make certain we're not disturbed.”

A bit less than an hour later, Loreli Winters affixed her signature in all the necessary places on the bank's documents and purchased Mr. Peterson's mortgage for two-hundred and fifty dollars. To a struggling farmer it was a substantial sum of money, but not for Loreli—she'd won and sometimes lost that much in one night on a single turn of a card or toss of the dice. For her this was an investment in the future of a family with five children. Just because she'd grown up without a roof over her head didn't mean
other children had to, at least not as long as she had the ability to keep it from happening.

Mr. Diggs smiled as Loreli handed the papers over. He then handed her the deed, saying, “All yours now. I enjoy doing business with a woman who knows her mind, and has the funds to back it up.”

Loreli hoped her smile didn't appear too false. “And I enjoy doing business with you.” She stood. “I should be going. Thanks very much for your help.” She folded the deed and placed it in her handbag.

He escorted her to his office door, then opened it. “Have a nice day, Miss Winters.”

“You do the same.”

Her work now done, Loreli drove out to the Reed place. Putting the Petersons out of her mind for now, she wondered what Reed would say once he learned that the small wedding he'd planned had been replaced by a slightly more elaborate affair. Probably throw a fit, she mused, but her wagon-train sisters were determined to make the wedding day a special occasion, and there seemed to be no getting around it, or out of it.

W
hen Loreli arrived at the house, the girls came tearing off the porch.

“We didn't think you were coming!” Bebe yelled happily. She and her sister waited by the carriage for Loreli to step down, then they hugged her in turn.

Loreli thought their hugs balm for the soul. “How are you two? I'm sorry if I worried you. I ran into some friends and we got to talking—”

The sight of Jake on the porch made her stop. She straightened and faced him. Remembrances of their last encounter put a chilliness in her greeting. “Afternoon, Reed.”

He nodded. “Miss Winters.”

Jake thought no woman had the right to be so beautiful. She was dressed all in green today. From that feathered hat to the form-fitting jacket and matching fancy skirt, she was the closest he'd ever seen to perfection. “The girls were worried.”

“I know. I spent the morning with some friends from the wagon train. We lost track of the time.”

Dede asked, “Are your friends mamas now too?”

“Some of them are, yes. One even has two daughters.”

“Just like you,” Bebe pointed out proudly.

Loreli grinned down. “Yep. Just like me.”

She could feel Reed's eyes, but she didn't look his way.

Jake stood silently watching while Loreli and the girls chatted about her friends. His mind went back to the conversation they'd had yesterday. He'd never been around a woman confident enough in herself to know that if something sparked between them, anything might be possible. The way he was raised, such forwardness branded a woman as scandalous, and
good
men knew to avoid them at all cost, at least publicly. He took in her clothing, her golden skin and that winning smile, and swore he wasn't affected by her, but knew it was a lie. Being around her made him feel as if he'd been placed under a spell—how else to explain his having picked her for the girls? If it was a spell, he needed an antidote quickly, before he embarrassed himself by taking her up on her offer and entering an arena he had scant experience in. Jake knew the ins and outs of human anatomy, but she'd obviously had lovers in the past. He didn't want to be compared and then found lacking. His declaring there'd be no sharing of a marriage bed had to do with pride, and Jake had always had more than his share.

Loreli looked up at Reed and asked, “How far away is the Peterson place?”

Jake's face mirrored his confusion. “Matt Peterson?” he asked.

She shrugged her ignorance. “I don't know his given
name, but the girls told me his daughter Carrie is a friend of theirs.”

Jake nodded. “That's Matt. He lives about five miles east of here. Why?”

“I'd like to speak with him about something.”

Bebe entered the conversation and said to her uncle, “Mr. Diggs told Carrie's pa they couldn't live in their house anymore.”

Dede piped up, “I told Loreli when I get big, I'm going to be rich. Then nobody can tell me I can't live in my house.”

Confused, Jake said, “Girls, how about you go inside and finish your lessons? I want to speak with Miss Winters.”

The girls looked at Loreli as if she might countermand their uncle's request and let them stay by her side, but she asked, “Did you hear your uncle?”

They dropped their heads and went into the house.

Smiling at their retreat, Loreli then turned her attention back to Reed.

“What do you want to talk to Matt about?” Reed asked.

“His mortgage from the bank.”

Jake became suspicious. “Why?”

“Banker Diggs foreclosed on Peterson's farm. He and his family have to be out by Monday.” She then described the encounter she and the girls witnessed between Peterson and Diggs.

When she was done, Jake ran his hand over his head in both anger and frustration. “He could've given him until the harvest.”

“That was my thinking too, but he wouldn't. In fact, he seemed right pleased with himself.”

“Diggs is a snake, always has been. Matt's worked hard to get a profit out of that land. Another year or two and he might've made it.” He then asked, “So why do you want to talk to Matt?”

“Because I purchased his mortgage from the bank.”

He looked stunned. “What?'

Loreli explained, “I now own the mortgage to his place.”

“Why on earth did you do that?”

“Because the man has five children, Reed.”

“But…”

Jake had so many questions he didn't know what to ask first.

She chuckled. “Close your mouth, Reed, and tell me how to get to his place.”

“What are you going to do with his note?”

She looked at him as if it were a silly question. “Turn it over to him, of course. What did you think I planned to do?”

The speechless Jake had no idea. He stared at her with wonder-filled eyes. “You're going to just give it to him?”

“Sure, why not? I don't need a farm—wouldn't know the first thing about running it.” She shrugged as if that were explanation enough.

Jake found her even more astonishing. Just when he thought he had her pegged, she pulled the rug from beneath his feet and sent him sprawling. “Matt has a lot of pride. It might take some doing to get him to accept your charity.”

“The man has five children. Pride won't feed them.”

Jake shook his head at her blunt reply. “You're right, of course, but pride's all a man has sometimes.”

“True, but you can't eat it or make love to it, so…”

Jake wondered if that last part had been aimed at him personally.

“So, are you going to direct me there or not?” she asked.

He nodded. “I'll drive you.”

“That's not necessary.”

“I know.”

Jake studied her for a long moment. “You always go around stirring up trouble?”

Loreli wasn't sure if he were teasing or simply being his usual critical self, so she placed a hand on her hip and tossed back, “Yes. Can't you tell?”

Jake, enjoying her sassy stance, replied, “I can.”

Loreli smiled. “You think Diggs is going to give me trouble over this?”

Jake ran his eyes over her mouth and wondered how it might be to kiss her. “Yep. He wants Matt off that place for more than owing money.”

Loreli eyed him. “Explain.”

“Diggs doesn't want the farmers around here to organize.”

“Organize as what?”

“A union.”

Loreli had heard about hod carriers, dock workers, and the like forming trade unions, but farmers? “Why would farmers need a union?”

“To set fair crop prices among other things. The Diggses of the world shouldn't be allowed to make their living off the misery of others.”

“Are you leading this union organizing?”

“Around here, I am.”

“Could the girls be in danger from this?”

“I would hope not, but organizers have been killed in some places.”

Loreli realized he was a lot more involved in politics than she'd first thought.

“Well, sometime soon, I'll need to hear more on this, so I'll know what I might be in for.”

He thought that only fair. “How about later this evening?”

“Good.”

For a moment there was silence. Jake knew Loreli wouldn't let the girls come to any harm, not without a fight. He also knew it wouldn't be long before the male in him roared past the tight controls he'd placed on his emotions, before he sought her out, consequences be damned. The shape of her mouth teased him, the curves of her body filled him with need. Bringing himself back under control, he directed Loreli: “You get the girls, I'll get the buggy.”

As he headed off, Loreli watched him and wondered what he planned to do about the heat rising between them, and more importantly, when? She then reminded herself that she'd known the man less than a week, and therefore needed to stop thinking like a cathouse trollop. Besides, there seemed to be no reason to rush things with him. In spite of yesterday's no-marriage bed declaration, the desire burning in his eyes just now had been real. It meant one thing: the marble archangel was developing cracks.

Moments later they piled into the wagon. Jake and Loreli sat up front while the girls sat on large hay bales in the bed. As always, the twins sang, this time, the “Battle Hymn of the Republic.” They were singing with such rel
ish and fervor, a laughing Loreli had tears in her eyes. Their singing of the
Glory, Glory Hallelujah!
refrain was slaying her the most. The girls were throwing back their heads like two little coyote pups and belting out the words with such enthusiasm, and in voices so sweetly bad, Loreli thought she might hurt herself. She turned around so she could see them as they sang their way to the final notes.
“His truth is marching onnnnn!”

When they were done, she said genuinely, “You two can sing for me anytime.”

Their responding grins made Loreli melt inside. Turning back to Jake, she asked, “Don't you think that was some fine singing?”

“Real fine singing,” he agreed.

For the rest of the ride, Loreli did nothing but relish how good she felt. Her problems with Reed not withstanding, she enjoyed being a part of this family, at least so far. Reality dictated that sooner or later she and the twins were going to disagree over something or the other, and when it became time to issue some discipline, they'd probably place Lorlei's name on their witch list right beside old Rebecca Sourapple, but for now happiness reigned and Loreli was content.

 

As the wagon approached the Petersons' farm and Loreli got her first look at the small, listing sod house, she sensed hopelessness, poverty and despair. Like other such homesteads on the plains, the dwelling had been made from stacked, thick cuts of sod mortared together with mud. Soddies, they were called—damp when it rained; drafty when the winter winds blew. The roof was nothing more than a thin sheet of plywood with a layer of sod on
top. There was one rough sawed window cut into the left front wall to let in light. The house sat flush with the ground so there was no porch or steps. Loreli could only imagine how cramped it must be inside with five growing children and how dark and gloomy. Soddies were very flammable during the hot dry months of the summer, so great care had to be exercised with candles and lamps.

Loreli glanced at the twins. The pall that hung over the place seemed to have affected them as well. They'd quieted when Jake turned the buggy toward the house, and were now sitting and watching silently.

“How long have the Petersons lived here?” Loreli asked Jake.

“Almost three years.”

Loreli could see a large patch of corn growing emerald green under the afternoon sun. “Corn's growing.”

Jake nodded. “Looks like a good strong crop. He had a real hard time getting the ground ready that first year. He had no animals to plow with, and no one to help him plant but his wife, Susan—his children were too young. I brought over an ox and offered to lend him a hand, but he turned me down flat. Proud man, real proud.”

Loreli hoped she wouldn't have to argue with this proud man about taking the mortgage from her. Even a blind badger could see he needed help. As her father used to say, what some men called pride, other folks called simple stubbornness.

Jake brought the wagon to a stop, and a few moments later, a man Loreli now knew to be Matt Peterson came out from behind the house. He raised a hand to shade his blue eyes from the late afternoon sun. “Afternoon, Jake. Hi, girls. Who's that with you?”

The girls hopped out, then Jake came around to help Loreli down.

“Want you to meet Loreli Winters,” Jake told him.

Loreli stepped to the ground. “Afternoon, Mr. Peterson.”

“Ma'am.”

Peterson studied her for a moment as if trying to place her face. “You were in the bank.”

“Yes, I was.”

“Sorry you had to see that,” he said.

“No apology needed. You were speaking your mind.”

“Diggs is a thief.”

Out of the house stepped a tired-faced young woman dressed in a well-patched brown calico farm dress. She had light brown hair and a curly-haired toddler on her hip. Beside her stood two little girls who couldn't be more than four and five; an older girl, Loreli guessed to be Carrie, and an older boy, the cricket-carrying Jimmy. Upon seeing Jake, however, the woman's tired face broke into a smile, letting Loreli see traces of her former beauty.

“How are you, Jake?”

“Fine, Susan. And you?”

She hefted the toddler to a better position. “I'm doing well.”

Matt Peterson said to Loreli, “Miss Winters, this is my wife, Susan. Sue, this is Loreli Winters.”

The woman nodded a greeting. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Same here,” Loreli replied. “What's the baby's name?”

“Nathan, after Matt's pa.”

Loreli reached over and ran a gentle finger down his
smooth, chubby cheek. “How are you, precious?” she cooed.

Susan introduced the other children. The entire family was painfully thin.

“Want to see our new scarecrow?” Jimmy asked the twins.

Their brown eyes widened excitedly. “May we?” Dede and Bebe asked their uncle.

“Go right ahead.”

The children ran off. Susan set the toddler on his feet, but kept a sharp eye on him as he waddled around on his unsteady little legs.

Peterson asked Jake, “I suppose you heard about Diggs foreclosing on us?”

Jake nodded. “I did.”

“Granger, Doyle, and Sears all got notices too.”

Jake replied grimly, “It's the organizing.”

“I know.”

Diggs, in cahoots with some of the area's big grain processors, didn't want the farmers to speak with one voice. The banker and his moneyed friends wanted things to remain just the way they were, under their control. If the farmers banded together, making the processors have to bid for the crops, control would be in the hands of the farmers and things would change. Diggs hoped that by cutting the feet out from under intelligent and forthright men like Peterson, other men would think twice about becoming involved. “So what're your plans?” Jake asked him.