Distraction (7 page)

The iron box creaked and moaned with smoke as Libby
pushed in the pies. The door to the kitchen swung open, and the man
Libby had called Samuel walked inside. He had nice green eyes and a
well-proportioned face, but he was not the knight from my sketch. I
was silly to think, even for a moment, that he’d truly existed. It
was obvious that the picture was still in my mind when I traveled
through time and he’d appeared only because I’d dreamt about
him.

Samuel walked over and picked up a slice of apple. He
watched me from beneath his wide-brimmed hat.

Libby straightened from putting the pies in to bake.
“What have I told you about wearing that hat in the house, Samuel?
And it looks like your boots needed wiping too. I just mopped this
floor.”

Samuel took the hat off his head. He had a thick
mound of wavy brown hair, but the man I remembered carrying me away
from the clawed monster had long, straight hair. Still, Samuel must
have brought me here. Obviously, the fever had caused my
confusion.

I worked up the courage to speak to him. “I’ve never
thanked you for saving me from that beast. I’m sure I would be dead
if you hadn’t found me.”

His dark brows scrunched together as if he had no
idea what I was talking about. “Sorry, Miss, but it wasn’t me. Cade
is the one that brought you here to the ranch.”

“Cade?” I asked.

“He’s the one who scared off the grizzly.”

“Oh, I see,” I said, but I really had no idea who he
was talking about. “Well, thank you for letting me stay here.”

He nodded and put his hat back on his head.

Libby handed him a cup of coffee. “Speaking of Cade,
I suppose he’ll be back soon.”

A derisive laugh shot from Samuel’s mouth. “Sure.
He’s probably sitting at a poker table this very minute. All I know
is that the east fence isn’t going to mend itself, so he’d better
get back home before some of the herd decides to pick up and leave.
The fences are his duty.”

***

“You’d better put this shawl around your shoulders,
Poppy.” Libby draped a thickly knitted shawl around me. “It might
look clear with sunshine out there but an early Montana spring
still has a bite to it.” She stopped and surveyed my attire. “My
lord, I nearly forgot a hat. Don’t need to get a wind burn on that
pretty face.” She walked out of the kitchen and returned with two
straw bonnets. One she tied on her own head and the other she tied
securely on mine. She leaned back and admired the bow she’d tied
beneath my chin. “I never had children, but I think I would have
liked to have had a daughter to dress up. Of course, I’ve raised
Samuel and Cade since they were young boys. Still, you can’t dress
boys up like you can girls. Especially those two wildcats. That
Cade was such a hellion, I thought I’d never get him to adulthood.
But he’s turned out a fine young man. Both of them have.”

I was growing fond of the unique phrases Libby used
to describe everything. I could only assume a hellion was someone
who got into a lot of trouble. My excitement at the prospect of
taking a wagon ride through Montana grew with each passing moment.
Aside from my early years in England, I’d never been farther north
than Rowley Village or farther south than Humphrey’s Pond.

Libby handed me two pies to carry out to the wagon.
“Samuel’s got the horses hitched, so let’s be on our way.”

It was the first time I’d stepped outside since I’d
arrived, and that day was an utter blur. A dry wind whipped beneath
the edge of my bonnet, and the ribbon tugged on my chin. The
fragrance of earth and grass came from every direction. I squinted
out to a field where large cows with long, dangerous horns on their
heads stood in a nearly solid mass. The sky above was clear and
endless and . . . blue. A tall latticed structure with a large
round wheel on top stood above the roof of the barn. “What is
that?” I asked. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Libby glanced the direction I was pointing. “That’s
the windmill. It brings water to the ranch— when there’s water to
be had.”

Two fine, smooth horses stood in front of the wagon.
“I’ve never seen such beautiful horses,” I said. “Back home, even
the finest plow horses looked ragged and tired.”

Libby shook her head beneath her straw bonnet. “If
Samuel heard you calling this pair beautiful, he’d fall on the
floor in a heap of laughter. But they are trustworthy in front of a
wagon and that’s all that matters to me.” She tucked the pies into
a corner of the wagon bed and climbed up onto the box seat. She
lowered her hand for me to take. The stitches pulled against my
skin as I heaved myself up onto the wagon.

“I think it’s almost time to take the doc’s sewing
out of your side.”

I shifted on the hard bench until I found a smooth
spot. “I think you’re right.”

“Do you ride horses?” Libby clucked her tongue and
the horses reluctantly took plodding steps forward. The wagon
lurched into motion.

“We could never afford a horse, but I’ve always
thought it would be exciting to gallop down the road on one.”

“We’ve got a couple of older horses that would be
perfect for you to learn on. I’ve got a trunk full of the boys’ old
clothes. Maybe we can rummage through it and find a pair of waist
overalls that’ll fit you. No reason why you can’t learn to ride
while you’re here.” She turned to face me. “Or do you think your
grandmother will be upset if you ride?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. Nonni always encourages
me to try new things.” I spoke casually of her as if any moment she
might appear, but it had been more than a week and there was no
sign of her. What if she never found me? I had no money, no family,
no home, and there was no way to get back to my real home, two
centuries away. It all seemed terrifying, and I had to keep my mind
in the present to keep from going completely mad with worry.

“Once Cade returns, I’m sure he can find the time to
teach you how to sit in a saddle.”

I was more than pleased to leave my dark thoughts.
“Samuel tells me that Cade is the one who brought me here. I must
confess, I don’t remember him. Does he live here too?”

“Yes. He’s over in the next county breaking colts for
a rancher. I expect him home any time.” Her eyes always seemed to
take on a prideful shine whenever she spoke of Cade.

“What is breaking colts?” I knew I sounded thoroughly
witless with all my questions, but I had no idea how else I would
learn about these new things unless I asked. And Libby seemed more
than tolerant with my incessant inquiries.

“The rancher had some wild horses. Cade works with
them until they are safe to ride. A well-mannered, broke horse is
worth a nice lump of money.”

“Interesting,” I said. “Broke is usually not a good
thing where I come from.”

Libby smiled and shook the reins. The horses’ heads
popped up and they picked up their pace. “I think that term is only
good when it describes horses. I just hope those wild mustangs
don’t break Cade first.”

Gigantic rolls of brown grass dotted the fields as we
wobbled along the bumpy path. We passed the occasional house or
herd of cows, but for the most part, there was just land. Lots and
lots of flat land.

“I see a small pond over there past that fence,” I
said. “It seems that there is not much water around here.”

A squirrel dashed across the road and the horses
snorted. “Calm yourselves, you silly beasts. It was only a
squirrel.” Libby adjusted the shawl on her shoulders. “Two years
ago you could see a pond or watering hole around every bend in the
road, but we’ve had a terrible dry spell for months. Even the snow
in the mountains was too thin to help down here in the farmland.
Our herd and the ranch have suffered because of it. Hopefully this
spring will bring some showers.” There was a speck of hopelessness
in her tone when she spoke. There had never been a shortage of rain
in Salem. In fact there was far too much of it for my liking.

A lone rider headed toward us on the narrow road.
Even with his hat low on his head, the horses seemed to recognize
the man. His horse whinnied to the wagon horses.
“Jackson,” Libby called ahead to him, “why are you heading home
alone?” Libby stiffened next to me. “Did something happen to
Cade?”

“Nah, he’s fine. Better than fine, in fact.” The man
pulled to a stop next to the wagon. A slightly stunned expression
crossed his young face. “You’re up and around. Cade thought you
might be gone before he got back home. I guess he’ll miss you after
all.” His face was covered with grime and there was a terrible cut
on the side of his chin. “Just between us, I think he’s going to be
disappointed.”

“Jackson, I don’t know what you’re rambling on about.
We’re just going to town to pick some dresses up for Poppy.”

“Poppy?” he repeated enthusiastically. “They sure are
giving angels interestin’ names these days.”

Libby shot him a long, hard look. “Just how many
times did you get dumped on your head up there at Trenton’s?”

“Too often to count,” he answered.

“Then get yourself home. And for heaven’s sake, take
a bath before you sit on any of my furniture.” She gazed up the
road. “So, exactly where is Cade?”

“He’ll be along soon enough.” He lifted his hat up
and down. “See you at the ranch.”

***

A wide, well-worn road divided the town in half.
Tall, straight rectangular buildings lined each side of it like
rows of uneven teeth. They looked austere and simple compared to
the squat, thatch covered houses of Salem Village. The people
milling through town yelled, laughed, and looked generally happy.
Another stark contrast to the village. And their clothing was
simpler, less cumbersome, and altogether less black. “I would love
a blue dress like the one Charlotte wears,” I blurted without
thinking.

“We’ll see what we can do about that,” Libby
answered. “The shop is just down here at the end.” Libby steered
the horses around a large group of people gathered in front of a
shop. They peered inside a window.

I twisted back to look at the crowd. “That place
seems to hold a great deal of interest.”

“That’s the gambling saloon. Here’s the dress shop.
Now, let’s get those pies and see about some proper clothes for
you.”

Susan was a spirited, loquacious woman who was
thrilled to trade for the pies and looked liked she’d enjoyed a few
in her day. Libby told the dressmaker the story of how I’d been
nearly killed by a grizzly and how I was now waiting for my
grandmother to come take me back home to the east coast. She didn’t
seem to question the tale at all and set immediately to finding me
a suitable dress.

I could have stood in her dress shop for hours
looking at the rainbow of fabrics and threads. But the peculiar one
armed table that rivaled Libby’s pie baking box in character had me
truly captivated. It was a glossy black with gold trim and a thick
arm that held tightly to a pile of fabric. I could not take my eyes
from it.

Susan seemed to notice me gaping at it. “That’s my
pride and joy,” she said. “Ain’t she a beauty? Just bought her last
year, a Singer no less.”

“Do you mean it makes music?” I asked.

Susan was visibly baffled by my question. “No, child,
it’s a sewing machine. The only music it makes is the hum of the
needle as it trails a perfectly even stitch across the fabric.” She
walked around the table and sat down. “Let me show you. Her foot
rested on a large platform and she began pumping with her foot. I
stumbled back a few steps as a long needle at the end of the arm
pumped up and down and grabbed ferociously at the fabric. It seemed
Nonni’s powers would be nearly useless in this modern age.

Susan looked up from her machine and laughed. “I can
hardly believe you’ve never seen one of these before.” She glanced
at Libby. “I thought you said she was from Massachusetts.”

Libby cleared her throat. “Well, Poppy seems to have
come from a very remote part of Salem where these fine industrial
inventions haven’t reached quite yet.”

Rumbling voices outside the shop drew Libby’s
attention to the window. “What’s happening across the street at the
gambling hall that has everyone’s interest?”

Susan stood from the machine and waved her hand in
dismissal. “I don’t know. I heard a few people talking about some
poker game that’s gone on all night. You know how those end after
they’ve been up all night drinking firewater. Some poor sap ends up
betting the farm, the wife, and anything else of value before he
finally realizes he’s destitute.” Susan looked me up and down for a
moment. “I think I’ve got the perfect peach calico for this girl.
Let’s have a look in the back.”

After a good long hour of trying on dresses, we
settled on a peach colored dress dotted with small green flowers
and a muted blue dress with yellow flowers. The fabric was much
softer and lighter than the rough, heavy homespun fabric I was used
to. The new dress flowed like a soft, colorful breeze around my
legs.

“We’ll get you a nice chemise and petticoat to go
under it. A tiny thing like you has no need for a corset.” Susan
leaned closer as if her walls were listening. “Truthfully, I go
without most of the time too. Much easier to sew and cut fabric
without one.”

The sound of glass breaking startled all of us. “Now
what on earth—” Susie glanced back at me as she headed to the front
room, “You can wear that one out of the shop today. Much better
than that tent-sized dress you wore on the way in.” With that she
left the room to see what the ruckus outside was.

Libby peered over my shoulder at the mirror. “You
look like a picture, Poppy. That pink color suits you. We’ll have
to work on a suitable style for that long hair of yours. Although,
it seems a shame to hide it in hair pins. It is truly lovely.”

I turned to face her. “I don’t know how I’ll ever
repay you, Libby.”