Wolf Shadow (24 page)

A week later, they reached Buffalo Springs. It was a large
town, much larger than any of the others she had seen along the way. The
buildings—she counted over thirty—looked substantial, as if the town intended
to be there for a long time. The streets were crowded with men and women. At
one end of town, there was a big corral filled with cattle. She saw a building
she recognized as a church and one she guessed was the schoolhouse. She
remembered going to school, being eager to learn to read and write.

Riding down the street, she looked at the signs, silently
sounding out the words, surprised that she hadn’t forgotten how to read.
Shoe-ma-ker. Den-tist. Bar-ber Shop. Sad-dle Ma-ker. Red Ace Sa-loon. Lil’s
Café. Post Off-ice. Sher-iff’s Off-ice and Jail. The Cattle-men’s Club. Rose’s
Di-ner.

So many stores. So many people. She stared at the women.
They wore brightly colored dresses with full skirts and long sleeves. Most wore
bonnets. Some wore gloves. The men wore leggings, trousers they were called,
like the ones Wolf Shadow sometimes wore, and colorful shirts and big hats. And
they all wore guns. Men and women alike turned to stare at her and she bowed
her head, suddenly self-conscious of her Lakota tunic and moccasins, which were
covered with a fine coating of trail dust.

Wolf Shadow pulled up in front of a large building with big
double doors and dark green shutters on the windows. The sign overhead read
Wind-sor Ho-tel.

Wolf Shadow dismounted. He hesitated a moment, then moved to
her side. Placing his hands on her waist, he lifted her from the saddle. As
soon as her feet touched the ground, he turned to face her father.

“It’s been nice doing business with you, Mr. Bryant.”

The two men shook hands, then Wolf Shadow took up the reins
of all four horses. He glanced briefly at Rosalia, and then his gaze rested on
Winter Rain.

She looked back at him. Their time together was almost over,
she thought desperately. There were a dozen questions she wanted to ask him, a
dozen things she wanted to say, but not with her parents standing there,
listening.

“Have a good trip home,” he said quietly, and then he turned
and headed down the street.

“All right, ladies,” her father said briskly. “I’m going to
the stage depot to see when the next coach leaves for home. Rosalia, have them
send some hot water up to our rooms right away.”

“
Si
, Eduardo.”

Taking Winter Rain by the hand, Rosalia stepped up on the
boardwalk and led the way into the hotel.

Winter Rain’s gaze darted around the room. She remembered
being in hotels before, most of them grander than this one, although this one
was very nice. There were sofas and chairs covered in dark green velvet. Tables
held pretty lamps with fringed shades. A large crystal chandelier hung from a
thick gold chain.

She followed her mother across a patterned carpet to where a
clerk stood behind a large desk.

He smiled at her mother. “Mrs. Bryant. It’s good to see you
again,” he said, and then paused, his gaze moving over Winter Rain. “I’m afraid
we don’t allow…”

“This is my daughter, Teressa,” Rosalia interjected with a
tight smile. “She will be staying with us.”

“Yes, ma’am, of course.”

“We will need two rooms, adjoining. And please send up some
hot water. We have had a difficult journey.”

“Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am.” Turning, the clerk plucked
two keys off a board and handed them to her mother. “Rooms eight and ten.”

“We left our luggage here during our last visit. Could you
please have it sent up as soon as possible?”

“Right away, Mrs. Bryant.”

“Thank you. Come, Tessa.”

Feeling horribly out of place, Teressa followed her mother
up a wide winding staircase, then down a well-lit corridor. Rosalia stopped in
front of a door with a gold number eight on it. Turning the knob, she opened
the door and stepped into the room.

It was a large corner room papered in pink cabbage roses.
White curtains hung at the windows. There was a double bed topped by a white
spread. A small chest of drawers, a comfortable-looking chair, a mirror on the
wall. Peeking behind a flowered screen, she saw a bathtub.

Rosalia crossed the floor and opened the door that led into
the next room.

Teressa trailed in her mother’s wake.

Room number ten was a little larger than number eight. The same
paper graced the walls.

“Your father and I will take this room,” Rosalia said. “As
soon as we get cleaned up, we will go shopping. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Mama,” Teressa replied.

Just then, the door opened and her father entered the room.
“Unbelievable!” he muttered. “Simply unbelievable!”

“Eduardo, what is the matter?”

“It seems we just missed the stage going west.”

“But there is another, is there not?”

He snorted. “Yes, of course, but the man at the stage office
wasn’t sure when it would arrive. He said there was some kind of trouble on the
trail. A bridge is down or the trail washed away or something like that, and
the stage has been delayed.”

“For how long?”

“Possibly a week. Possibly as long as three weeks. Three
weeks, can you believe that?”

“Perhaps it will not take that long.”

“And what if it does?” He slammed his fist down on the top
of the dresser. Three weeks, Rosalia! What are we supposed to do here if it
takes three weeks?”

Rosalia placed her hand on her husband’s arm. “Calm down,
Eduardo.”

“I am calm!” He began to pace the floor, the color in his
cheeks rising. “Three weeks!” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a sheet
of yellow paper which he waved in the air. “This arrived day before yesterday.
It seems Cliff Vanderhyde is trying to weasel his way into a position on the
Board of Directors at the bank. You know how I feel about that man! It is
imperative that I get back there as soon as possible and put a stop to it. I
can’t wait three weeks!”

A knock at the door put an end to his tirade.

“That will be the boys with the water,” Rosalia said.

Going to the door, she opened it to admit four boys each
carrying two buckets of steaming water.

She stepped back so they could enter the room, then asked
one of the boys to fill the pitcher on the chest of drawers.

“So you can shave, Eduardo,” she explained.

A moment later, two other boys entered the room carrying
several large suitcases.

“Just put them on the bed, please,” Rosalia directed.

Edward tipped each of the boys as they left the room. Rosalia
stopped the last one. “The tub in room number eight needs to be filled as
well.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said politely. “Right away.”

* * * * *

Teressa sat submerged as much as possible in the tub behind
the screen. The warm water felt wonderful. The soap her mother had given her to
bathe with smelled of lilacs.

Sitting there, her thoughts turned toward Wolf Shadow. Would
she see him again? She couldn’t believe he would ride out of her life without a
word.

She stayed in the tub until the water grew cool. Drying with
a towel, she pulled on her tunic and moccasins, then knocked on the door that
adjoined her room with that of her parents.

Rosalia smiled as she opened the door. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Eduardo, we will not be long.”

He looked up from the paper he was reading. “Buy whatever
you need.”

Rosalia kissed him on the cheek. “
Grazie.”

Leaving the hotel, Rosalia stood on the boardwalk, looking
up and down the street.

“There,” she said, and taking Teressa by the hand, she led
her across the street and into Krause’s Dry Goods Store.

Inside, Rosalia quickly picked out a modest ready-made dress
of green-sprigged muslin for Teressa, a cotton chemise and ruffled petticoat
and a pair of drawers. They also bought a pair of gloves, a straw hat that tied
in a big bow under her chin, and several ribbons and a pair of pretty
tortoiseshell combs for her hair.

From there, they went to Robison’s Mercantile where Teressa
picked out a comb and a hairbrush and a small reticule. Mama handed her several
dollars, assuring her that a lady should always have a bit of money handy.

Their next stop was Clinger’s Bootery where Teressa picked
out a pair of soft leather half-boots that weren’t near as comfortable as her
old moccasins.

Leaving the shoe shop, they returned to the hotel so Teressa
could change.

Now, almost an hour later, Teressa stared at herself in the
mirror, thinking how very different she looked. Her mother had brushed her
hair, then arranged it in a knot at her nape. With her hair arranged and
wearing her new clothes, Teressa hardly recognized the image in the mirror.

Where had Winter Rain gone?

What would Wolf Shadow think if he could see her now?

“Bella
,” Rosalia said, smiling. “When we get home, we
will get you a whole new wardrobe.”

Home. Teressa let out a sigh. Would this new world ever feel
like home again?

“Come, Tessa, I saw a dressmaker’s shop. Let us see what the
seamstress in this western town has to offer.”

“But I have a dress.”

Rosalia made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “One dress
bought off the rack is not enough to last you until we get home. Come.”

They walked down the street until they came to a store with
a small sign in the window that read,
Dressmaker. Mrs. Agnes Constantine,
Proprietor and Seamstress.

A tiny woman clad in a bright yellow dress greeted them with
a smile almost as bright as her frock.

“Welcome to my shop,” she said. “I am Agnes Constantine. How
may I help you, Mrs…?”

“Bryant,” Rosalia said, “and this is my daughter, Teressa.
She has need of your services. We will need three dresses for every day, and
one for evening, as well as petticoats and undergarments.”

Agnes Constantine looked Teressa over with a knowing eye. “I
have some patterns I think will suit.” Turning, she moved toward a door in the
back wall. “Come along, dear.”

“Mama?”

“I will wait here while she measures you.”

With a sigh, Teressa followed the seamstress into another
room where the woman measured her from top to bottom.

“There,” Mrs. Constantine said, dropping her tape measure
into her pocket, “I think that does it.”

Mrs. Constantine called Rosalia and the three of them went
into another room where they spent an hour looking at patterns and fabric
swatches.

Teressa was overwhelmed by the number of patterns and
colors. There had been little variety in her clothing while living with the
Indians. Most everything had been made of doeskin. Now, she would have full
skirts made of colorful cotton and velvet, and shirtwaists in all the colors of
the rainbow, and dresses with puffy sleeves edged in delicate lace. Once again,
she wondered what Chance would think when he saw her in her new finery.

“How long will it take you to make up the dresses?” Rosalia
asked.

“I can have one ready by tonight. The others will be ready
day after tomorrow.”

“Grazie.
Come, Teressa.”

Leaving the shop, they walked down the boardwalk to the
hotel. Saddled horses were tied to hitching rails along the street. A wagon
rumbled past, churning up a layer of thick yellow dust. A woman carrying a baby
in one arm and holding a little girl by the hand smiled at Teressa as she
passed by. From somewhere further down the street came a sound that was vaguely
familiar. It was a piano, she thought. Once, long ago, she had taken lessons.

When they returned to the hotel, Mama said it was time for
supper. Feeling ill at ease in the presence of so many strangers, Teressa
followed her mother into the hotel dining room. Teressa looked at the menu, but
the words meant nothing to her and she let her mother order for her.

With her hands folded in her lap, she gazed around the room.
Her lassitude vanished when she saw Wolf Shadow sitting alone at a table near
the window in the back.

Without thinking, she rose and hurried toward him.

He looked up, his brows lifting in surprise. “Teressa, how
pretty you look.”

“Thank you.” His compliment warmed her.

Rising, he pulled a chair out for her. “Sit down.”

She did so, pleased and relieved that he had made her
welcome. “I was afraid you would go away and I wouldn’t see you again.”

“I wouldn’t have left town without telling you goodbye.”

“You are leaving, then?”

“Tomorrow morning. I’ve been away long enough.”

“Where are you going?”

“To my ranch.”

“Is it close by?”

“About a day’s ride to the west.”

“I should like to see it sometime.”

“Teressa, what are you doing?”

She looked up to find her father standing at her elbow, his
face as dark as the storm clouds that gathered over the Black Hills in the
winter. “Nothing, Papa, I was…”

“Come, Teressa, it is unseemly for you to sit at a table
alone with a man.”

“Yes, Papa.” With an embarrassed glance at Wolf Shadow,
Winter Rain followed her father back to the table where her mother waited.

Edward glanced over his shoulder to make sure Teressa was
following him. When they reached their table, he held Teressa’s chair for her,
then sat down across from his wife.

“Rosalia, I have found a man who is going to Crooked River.
He says we can go with him.”

“Why would we want to go to Crooked River?” she asked.

“He says if we ride hard, we can get there in time to catch
the train to San Francisco.”

“Eduardo, I do not ever wish to sit on a horse again. Teressa
and I will stay here and wait for the stage. You go on.”

“Leave you here? Alone? The two of you…”

“We will be all right.”

He shook his head. “No, I won’t hear of it.” He frowned a
moment then rose without a word and made his way back to Chance’s table.