On Her Way Home (2 page)

Read On Her Way Home Online

Authors: Sara Petersen

BOOK: On Her Way Home
11.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Chapter Three

 

Leif Hawkins and Kirby Smith swung down from their horses. The streets sure were busy today. It seemed every time they rode in to town these days, they were dodging more automobiles and getting pushed further off the road by the fancy people who drove them. At least they seemed to think they were high and mighty, owning the road and everything around it
. It’s getting so a man can’t even ride a horse around here lately,
Kirby grumbled to himself. He hated the idea that times were changing, and he had to change with them. His friends had nicknamed him “Gramps” when he was only 11 years old. He never could tolerate change and fads. Kirby complained to the district seat last month about the telephone wires strung across the county, but the only thing to show for his efforts was a riled-up younger set, who thought talking to each other every minute of the day was the most exciting thing on earth. Every week there was a new electric this, or fancy icebox that, and wires tying one county to the next, but Kirby missed the old ways.

On his trip to town last week, Miss Aimee Tucker, who worked the counter at the General Store, had exclaimed to him, “Oh, Mr. Smith, just imagine we’ll be able to talk to people five hundred miles away as if they were standing right here with us.” Kirby’s skin had shivered. The thought that Miss Tucker could annoy people from five hundred miles away didn’t sit well with him. He might need to talk to the boss again and convince him to change his mind about hooking up that telephone wire out at the property.

Kirby and Leif walked their horses down the narrow alley behind the General Store and tied them to the post. The store owner had recently requested that only automobiles be parked out front, just another change that grated on Kirby’s old cowpoke hide.

“Kirby, I’m going to head over to the Post office and see about that ad we posted while you price the seed. I’ll meet you at Jill’s,” Leif said.

Leif Hawkins wasn’t nearly as adverse to change as Kirby. This new technology had sure made things easier, especially on the ranch. Even advertising for a new hand had been easier than in the past. Leif had simply gone to town, picked up the shiny black telephone at the newspaper office, plunked in his penny, and his advertisement that they were hiring at the ranch had been sent down the line. Leif posted that ad three weeks ago and so far had come up empty-handed. He refused to count the interview he’d had last week with a no account drifter, who’d managed to belch twice and doze off once during the five minutes they were together. Leif had been pressing the boss to hire someone since last December, with no luck. Finally, he’d taken matters into his own hands and posted the position without the boss’ say so. Normally, he wouldn’t be so forceful without full cooperation, but the recent copper mine operation in Cutter Falls had robbed them of two of their hired hands. Summer is the busiest time of the year on the ranch, and Leif knew despite the boss’ stubborn streak that the three of them just weren’t enough manpower to get the job done.

Leif kicked his boots on the side of the walk to clear the muck off before bounding up the steps into the post office with his usual long-limbed grace. The brick post office—a big rectangle building two stories high, with electric lights and marble counters—was the pride and joy of the county. Rich heavy doors opened onto the first floor post office, and the second floor, currently doubling as a county courtroom, was up the wide stairs to the right.

Leif waited in line at the desk, slyly admiring out of the corner of his eye a beauty with strawberry-colored hair. She moved toward him and glanced up in time to receive a boyishly charming grin from Leif and a “how do” before clicking out the door in her heeled shoes. Leif followed her with his eyes until she was gone
. Town sure is busier these days, but it has its perks, more pretty women being one of them
, he mused. Leif retrieved the key from the post clerk and opened the shiny box: a letter for Mattie and a flyer detailing the plans for the new county courthouse; that was it. Leif cursed Cutter Falls, his two rogue ranch hands, and the copper mine bigwigs all the way down the post office steps and over to Jill’s Café. He was looking for a strong, honest, hardworking man, and quiet too if Kirby had a say, but the only applicant’s Leif had so far were a sloppy drunk and a schoolboy. Anyone qualified for farming and ranching was working his own land and everyone else was mining copper to the east. The surprise the boss came home with a year ago wasn’t exactly making ranch life any easier either. How he planned on riding herd and tending a child, Leif would sure like to know.

Chapter Four

 

The air was cooler now, offering a measure of relief to Jo as she departed from the train after her long journey. The ride had been tedious at times, but she would have memories of the amazing panoramas for the rest of her life. Gazing at the bright orange sky splashed with pinks and fiery reds as the sun slipped silently behind the hills at the back of the train had engrained itself on her soul. The faster the train went, the more life slowed. The bustling cities filled with growing skyscrapers, jarring headlines, and a new and noisy generation gave way to pure creation, to untainted nature and foliage so pretty it made her heart twist.

Bags in hand and full of hope, Jo stepped off the train in Montana. This part of Montana wasn’t the flat dusty cattle land one conjured up in his mind. The uncluttered countryside had gradually forfeited to shrubs and trees the deeper west she rode. Finally, the train had sliced its way through showy rust-colored canyon walls to emerge alongside a swelling river and mountains thick with trees, where the earth was damp with a sweet fresh smell that Jo had unwittingly longed for.

She thought back to the ad she had snatched from the depot wall one week ago. She hadn’t a clue what possessed her to take it and still didn’t know if she had the nerve to seek out Leif Hawkins. Ranching in these high mountains was hard work; that much she knew. Despite the suffragist movement sweeping the country and women’s recently acquired vote, Jo couldn’t deny that even she thought the idea of women working as ranch hands was a stretch. She took a deep breath. The fresh air filled her lungs, convincing her that this was where she was meant to be. It didn’t matter how she ended up in this part of the country or what she was going to do now that she was here; it only mattered that for the first time in a year she felt alive.

With determination Jo hefted her bags and went round to the depot office. “Hello.” She greeted the attendant with a smiling face. “Is there a hotel in town, and can I make arrangements with them to have my trunks delivered there?”

The friendly station manager nodded the affirmative with a smile and quickly made arrangements to have Jo’s luggage taken to the White Castle Hotel on Main Street. “Will you be riding in the baggage taxi with your luggage, Miss?”

“How far is it, Mr.?” Jo paused not knowing his name.

“Maxwell. Sam Maxwell is my name.”

Jo extended her hand, “Pleased to meet you. I was thinking it might feel nice to stretch my legs a bit if the hotel isn’t too far.”

“No, just head down the sidewalk here and turn at the next corner. The White Castle is almost at the end of the street, past the General Store on the left. It’s nice meeting you, Miss Swenson. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

Jo thanked the helpful man, tipped the baggage handler, and started down the street in the direction Mr. Maxwell had pointed. It seemed as if Jo had arrived at the busiest time of day. She passed a mother and her four children hurrying down the sidewalk; two boys and two girls—a perfect set.

The town was bigger than Jo expected. On the right side of the street, she saw the Imperial Theatre, Davis & Myers Electrical, Paulson’s Insurance, KD radio station, and a restaurant. On Jo’s side of the street, she passed Harpers’s Boot Works, a small county library, and Pacific Bank. Not only was the town more established than Jo had expected but it was sightly too. The well maintained wooden sidewalks were shaded by leafy trees, and bright flowers flowed from pots at nearly every storefront entrance. Although the street wasn’t paved, it was still wide and roomy enough for two-way traffic. At the end of it, a large brick building stood with
POST OFFICE
painted in bright white above the double doors. This part of Montana certainly seemed to be faring better than the rest of the State; most of the Montana that she’d passed through on the train ride west was shabby, abandoned homesteads and stark ghost towns dwindling along the railroads tracks.

Pleased with the town and her leisurely walk, Jo decided to get settled in at the hotel. The green building with a second story balcony and white shutters wasn’t hard to find in a community where one of everything was more than enough; Jo sighed gratefully upon spying it.
Mmmm, that smells good
, she thought, passing a small café next to the hotel.
Jill’s Café
, the sign read.

Deciding to go in and have a bite before checking in, she took a seat in the corner and perused the menu. “I’ll have the chicken salad and a lemonade, with a piece of apple pie for dessert.” She smiled up at the cheery waitress. She was a bit early for the lunchtime crowd, but there were still a few people dining. Jo peeled her eyes away from the mountain view and started one of her favorite waiting games, eavesdropping. Oh, she knew it wasn’t proper exactly, but it was so interesting to hear the conversations and imagine who these people were and what their lives were like. Plus, the older gentleman behind her must be hard of hearing because he was speaking loud enough that it would have been practically impossible not to overhear him anyway.

“I had to bargain with the ole miser, but I got him talked down to a fair price for the seed. If we can clear that last bit of timber from the upper field and finish with the fencing before next week, we should be able to get the seed in the ground for this year.”

The young man sitting with him replied sarcastically, “Oh sure, we should have no problem doing all that in a week.” He paused, leaning back in his chair, “I just don’t see how it’s going to get done. I was over at the post office checking on that ad. No luck. Well, unless you count a letter for Mattie. Last week, I went over to Craig Johnson’s. He’s advertised for two months without a single applicant. He finally decided to hell with it, and now he has all five daughters out riding herd!”

The old man snickered, “Well, it’s about time he found a use for those stout daughters of his.”

Jo winced inwardly. This wasn’t the first time eavesdropping had backfired. She was sick of men trying to figure out a “use” for women. Bristling, she thought to herself,
why that crusty old, narrow-minded…

“Leif, all of eastern Montana is clearing out with the drought and wheat prices falling. The boss picked prime land out here, and we’ll see it through.”

Jo’s head snapped around at the mention of Leif’s name to stare at the two men.

Kirby caught the whip of the brown head two tables in front of him. He wondered what he’d said that had interested her so much. Maybe it was the comment about Johnson’s daughters. He peered at her closely. She wasn’t as strapping as that bunch, but she looked solid enough. He’d probably offended her. He dipped his head and smiled at her, hoping to unruffle her tail feathers. She disregarded his apology and immediately faced forward in her chair.

The waitress arrived with Jo’s lunch and placed it in front of her. “It’s a beautiful day out isn’t it?” she asked striking up small talk.

“Yes,” Jo replied absentmindedly. As the waitress turned to go, Jo caught her arm, “Excuse me, but do you happen to know the names of the two gentleman behind me?”

The waitress looked past Jo. “Yes, the older gentleman is Kirby Smith and the younger one is Leif Hawkins. He’s a handsome man, isn’t he? She said, nodding pointedly at Leif and giving Jo a knowing look. “Would you like me to introduce you?” she offered.

Embarrassed, Jo quickly replied in the negative. “Oh, no, thank you, he just looked familiar, and I wondered if I had met him before.”

The waitress took a step towards Leif and Kirby as if to go ahead with introductions, but luckily the café door swung open, announcing new customers, and the waitress hurried off. Jo couldn’t believe it. First, the depot clerk pinning that advertisement to the board just as she was boarding the train, then finding the community so welcoming and pleasant, and now her first meal in town and she sits down right next to Leif Hawkins. This must be providence.
Should I introduce myself and tell him I want the job? No. I’m a schoolteacher, not a ranch hand
. Jo scolded herself. Still, she wanted something new, and this was definitely new. Besides, it seemed as if everything was pushing her towards this fate. Jo tried to recall what they had said about finding a ranch hand. It seemed they were having a hard time, which was good for her; that plus “ole crusty” seemed to like the idea of putting “sturdy” girls to work. Both pluses on her side.

Jo heard the chairs scrape across the wood floor as both men stood up to leave. As they passed her, “ole crusty”—as Jo now thought of him—tried mending fences again with a friendly grin. He had sparkly eyes that reminded her of Pa; maybe she had misjudged him. She returned the smile with a hesitant one of her own.

The café door swung shut behind them. Jo was relieved. She needed time to think. Finishing her apple pie slowly and downing it with a hearty glass of milk brought some much needed clarity. First, she would check in at the hotel. Second, she would take a long hot bath. Third, she would pray for guidance. Fourth, she would sleep.

Other books

Undying Hunger by Jessica Lee
Power Play by Ben Bova
The Lady and Her Monsters by Roseanne Montillo
The Passion of Mademoiselle S. by Jean-Yves Berthault
No Way Out by Joel Goldman
Crossing the Line by Clinton McKinzie
Firestarter by Elle Boon
Maxine by Sue Fineman