The Independent Bride (14 page)

“I’m afraid we’re out of oysters right now,” Moriah said.

Abby knew this kind of situation could drive a customer from her store. “The man who ran the shop after my father died didn’t keep up with the orders as well as he should,” she said.

“Bill Spicer is a drunk,” the woman declared.

“I expect he ate the oysters himself,” another woman said.

“Or gave them to his friends. I don’t think people paid for half the things they took.”

Abby assured the ladies she would stock their favorite items as quickly as she could. She’d already gotten Bryce’s permission to use the army telegraph to send her orders to Denver. She was expecting the first things to arrive any day.

“I want some candy,” a very youthful-looking wife said. “I have a terrible sweet tooth.”

That was something else that had apparently disappeared. “I’ll order it today,” Abby said. But she didn’t know if she would get it any time soon. Bill Spicer hadn’t bothered paying the wholesalers. Bryce had had to threaten to take the fort’s business elsewhere before they would give her credit. She had to pay her back bills and the new ones as quickly as possible. And she had to hire men to haul the goods from Denver.

She could only do all that if the beef herd, all fifty head, arrived on schedule.

Abby spent the next hour talking to the wives, listening attentively to their descriptions of things they’d had back East or remembered seeing in someone’s home. She nodded her head and reminded them to write everything down on the paper. It didn’t take long before they had filled up two sheets.

“It looks like you’re doing a thriving business.”

Chapter Eight

There was that strange feeling again, the one that said something wonderful was about to happen. Only now Abby knew what that something wonderful was. She turned to find Bryce smiling down at her. “Actually, I’m doing a thriving business in learning what I don’t stock.” She gestured to the sheets of paper. “I ought to have a dozen by the end of the day.”

“They’ll put down filings that are useless out here,” Bryce said.

“Like a piano?”

“A piano would be useful. Just make sure they pay you for it before you have it shipped.”

“Maybe you should be running the store. You know more about everything than I do.”

“Only because I’ve been in the army for fifteen years.”

She didn’t know a thing about Bryce’s past—where he grew up, what his family was like, what he wanted to do when he went back East. Now she wanted to know everything about him, what he was like as a boy, what he used to dream about, why he went into the army, why he hadn’t remarried. She knew she ought not to be curious about any of that It was no way to get Bryce out of her system.

“While I’ve been living with an aunt who runs a lady’s dress shop.”

“You can tell them how to dress.”

Abby shook her head. “Aunt Emma said I was hopeless. I didn’t like any of the fancy clothes her customers bought.”

“I think you look just fine the way you are. I never did understand why a woman would want to cover herself up with lots of flowers and lace.”

“And this from a man whose dress uniform has enough gold buttons, braid, and cascading plumes to supply at least three modest women!”

Bryce had the grace to laugh. “I didn’t design the uniform.” He looked around. “Has anyone given you any trouble?”

“Nothing beyond exhausting me with marriage proposals.”

“Don’t let the enlisted men buy more than one bottle of wine or whiskey at a time. They know the rules, but they’ll try to get around you by sending someone else.”

“How will I know that?”

“I’ll station a man in the store for the time being. He can tell you which ones to watch out for, which you shouldn’t trust.”

“Thank you. Now I’d better pay attention to my customers or I’m liable to lose them all to Boulder Gap.”

“As long as you and your sister run this store personally, I expect you’ll have quite enough business. I’ll even go so far as to predict you’ll begin to attract business from Boulder Gap.”

“You’re saying we’ll be successful because we’re women, not because we do a good job.” She wasn’t pleased with that.

“I’m saying you’re energetic, intelligent, and determined to succeed. You’ve also worked hard to organize the place and make it look attractive. You’ll have a lot more customers because men prefer to look at and be helped by a pretty woman who smiles at them rather than a bewhiskered old man who growls if they stay too long without buying something.”

That gave Abby an idea. Despite Bryce’s dire predictions, she would ask Dorrie if some other wives would be willing to work in the store. Being completely staffed by women would make it unique. If she was successful, she could expand enough to include a few tables where the men could sit and enjoy their free time. And spend more of their money. And maybe add a space for women to sit and gossip.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Abby said.

“While you’re at it, keep in mind that every single man at the fort will propose to you at least once a week.”

“I guess the only way to stop it is to say yes to one of them.”

The easygoing look vanished from Bryce’s face. “Don’t. I won’t give permission.”

“Has anyone at the fort heard from the rancher delivering the beef?” Abby asked Zeb when he came into the store.

“I haven’t, but there’s no such tiling as a firm delivery date out here. People get where they’re going when they can.”

That might be fine for others, but it wasn’t for Abby. She had to have the money the Indian agent paid her for the beef to pay the wholesalers in Denver. They’d made it clear they didn’t intend to tolerate failure to pay on the designated date. The herd had to arrive on time and without loss.

“Have you heard anything from Hinson?”

“No.”

Abby didn’t like that For the first few days Hinson had badgered her to give up the beef contract. He’d tried to convince her by outlining the dangers and difficulties of delivering beef in a territory where thieves operated practically with impunity. When that hadn’t worked, he’d offered her money in exchange for the contract. Next, he’d threatened. She was convinced Hinson had found a way to cheat the Indians and make a profit for himself. She was afraid he’d attempt to stop delivery so he’d have an excuse to take the contract from her.

“Where is Colonel McGregor?’

“Out with the new recruits. They come here as green as June apples. It nearly works him to death getting them trained so they won’t get themselves killed the first time they go on patrol.”

“When will he be back?”

“Not until supper.”

Abby took only a moment to make her decision. “I’m going to meet the herd. I’ve got to know what’s happening.”

“The herd could be days away.”

“I don’t have days to wait.”

“You can’t leave the fort by yourself.”

“I don’t intend to. I want you to go with me.”

Zeb looked alarmed. “I haven’t gone on patrol in six months. I’ll have saddle sores inside an hour.”

“Then I’ll ask one of the enlisted men.”

“Don’t bother,” Zeb said, not looking happy. “The colonel will skin me alive if I let you go off with one of them know-nothings.”

“Do you know where to go?” Zeb asked Abby.

“Bryce—I mean, Colonel McGregor—said the La-vater ranch was at the foot of the mountains just south of the Overland Pass,” she said, pointing to an area south of the fort. “He said the herd would have had to go north to reach the Indian reservation. Lavater didn’t have far to come, so I don’t know why he isn’t here.”

“That’s a lot farther than it looks,” Zeb said. “The area you’re referring to is more than sixty miles away. Herds generally can’t make more than fifteen miles a day without walking off the fat.”

Abby’s spirits sank. She’d expected it to take less than an hour to find the herd. As a last resort she’d hoped to ride to the ranch. She wouldn’t have time to ride sixty miles there and back before dark. She didn’t like the thought of riding across the plain at night, even with a soldier for an escort. There was no forest to hide people, but there were bands of trees along streambeds, some of them up to a hundred yards deep in places. Smaller trees and bushes dotted the plain. Bryce had said the broken ground near the mountains meant gulches, ravines, and declivities that could hide a band of rustlers or a small herd of fifty steers.

“What’s the route they’re most likely to take to the reservation?” Abby asked.

“They could follow the foot of the mountains, but that’s probably too rough. They could follow one of the creeks so they’d have access to water, but that would take them east rather than north. So I suppose they’d go farther out on the plain to avoid other ranches and plan on reaching a creek at least once a day. There’s generally plenty of water in the spring.”

“Then let’s go.”

But Abby didn’t feel any of the excitement or the security she felt when she was with Bryce. Maybe it was the fact she knew she could be riding toward danger. She’d brought her rifle. Zeb cast uneasy glances at the weapon from time to time.

“Why don’t you go out on patrol?” she asked Zeb.

“I’ve been a striker for the colonel since his last housekeeper quit and got married.”

“What did you do before that?”

“The same as everyone else: drilling, keeping my equipment in order, going on patrols, getting into an occasional fight.”

Abby was relieved to know Zeb had experience, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking over her shoulder. Already the fort was looking small and distant; already she was feeling exposed to danger.

“How do you find a herd of cows?” she asked Zeb.

“You look for tracks.”

“I mean before that. How do you know where to look?”

“You think of where they are most likely to go and look there.”

“But there is no place they’re ‘most likely’ to go.”

Abby had expected to find a clearly marked path because the stage coach and wagons that had brought her west had followed clear trails. That apparently wasn’t the case with cows. She brought her horse to a halt. “The herd will be traveling north.”

“Right,” Zeb said.

“Which means if we travel west or east, we’ll cross their trail.”

“If they’ve gotten this far.”

“Let’s assume they have. Would I be more likely to bit the trail by riding directly east or west?”

“West.”

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as you can be of anything out here. Look, Miss Pierce, I didn’t like being a fighting soldier. I used to take care of a rich man in New York. When he went into the army, I went with him. Once they found out how well I could do as an officer, they never let me near a gun until the war ended. I was tickled pink when the colonel’s last housekeeper ran off. I was at his door before her dust settled. I don’t even like being on a horse. We should have taken a buggy.”

“You can’t take a buggy into a ravine.”

“A lady shouldn’t be wanting to go into a ravine. It’s not suitable.”

“It’s not suitable for a lady to have to chase down stolen cows.”

“You’re supposed to let your husband take care of stuff like that.”

“I don’t have a husband.”

“Then you should wait until you get one.”

Abby was stunned. “Zebulon Beecher—” Zeb winced at the sound of his full name—"you should be ashamed of yourself for acting like women are so helpless they have to wait for a man to take care of them.”

“They shouldn’t depend on me to take care of them.”

“I’m not I brought my rifle.”

“Do you know how to use it?”

“Of course.”

“One lesson with the colonel isn’t enough when you might come up against cattle rustlers.”

“I could kill a rabbit with a rifle before I was ten.
I’ll
take care of
you.”
Abby thought for a moment. “I think Hinson is behind this.”

“Maybe, but he wouldn’t try to steal the herd himself. He’d hire someone else to get shot at so he could prove he was somewhere else.”