“Rachel Sinclair. These are my brothers, Jay and Henry.”
As if she begrudged him the intimacy of knowing her name, she ducked her head, drawing her fingers from his grasp, stepping back.
He tipped his hat and turned his horse away, aware of her gaze on his back as he rode. Her length of dark hair, the braid thick and heavy against her back, nudged his thoughts. She looked good in blue, he decided. Matched her eyes.
But the memory that edged out the others, that haunted him on his ride back across the fields and meadows he traveled, was that of womanly curves, of slender arms and smooth shoulders, gleaming in the sunshine.
It was a long trip, and her heart beat at a rapid pace as the town came into sight. Coming to Green Rapids was a calculated risk, she knew. The sheriff was bound to see them, unless he should by chance be gone from town this morning.
The thought of a confrontation with the law was far from appealing, although the lawman had probably thanked his lucky stars to have them off his hands. Nevertheless, Rachel had her jaw set and her spine stiff as a ramrod, ready for the encounter should it come about.
Traffic on the dusty road was heavy, probably not more so than usual for a Saturday, but Rachel was counting on the assortment of buggies and wagons to conceal her passage down the main street.
Her eyes scanned the business places lined up alongside the broad, wooden sidewalks. Just ahead, the wooden sign of Green Rapids Emporium and Dry Goods came into view, and she brought the horses to a halt.
Henry jumped from the seat and snapped the lead in place on the harness, then tied the team to a hitching rail convenient to the store. “All set, Rae,” he called out, tugging one more time at the leather strap, testing the security of his knot.
“Thank you, Henry. You and Jay come along now, and remember, no treats today. We’re only here to buy the things we absolutely need.” She spoke in an undertone, ruing the warning she gave, wishing for a hundred pennies to shower on her brothers, with no thought for the expense.
“I know, Rae,” Jay whispered on a wistful sigh, his nostrils flaring as they entered the store.
The smell was always the same, Rachel thought, aware of the deep breaths her brothers had taken. Drygoods stores the country over, at least the parts they’d traveled, had that selfsame scent of leather and lye soap, mixed with the starched aroma of fresh bolts of fabric.
A whiff of molasses reached her nose, countered by something freshly baked, perhaps bread or cake. So much temptation, she thought, and so little hard cash to spend.
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
Rachel looked up quickly as the clerk approached, her eyes widening at his elegance. Pomade slicked his hair back neatly, a heavily starched collar clenched his throat and his shirtsleeves were buttoned firmly at the wrist. A genial smile curled his mouth and his eyes were faintly admiring as he nodded a greeting.
“Yes,” she answered, fumbling in her pocket for the list she’d written. As if she needed prompting to remember the few items she’d scribbled on the brown scrap of paper: sugar—a pound or two, depending on the price, a bag of cornmeal, a pound or so of lard and perhaps some eggs. Maybe even cans of milk for the boys’ oatmeal.
She’d yearned for weeks for the taste of a fried egg. Not that she could afford that luxury. These, if they weren’t too dear, would be used for baking. Jay and Henry had responded to the bribe of a cake, should they do their chores and carry water without complaining.
They’d been more than compliant, she realized, once they were settled in and ready to call the tumbledown cabin their dwelling. They’d followed her lead, straightening and settling in, making a home of the place they’d found.
“We got some new dimity in from St. Louis just the other day,” the clerk said, recalling Rachel from her thoughts.
He probably thought she could use a new dress. And he was right. Her smile was grim as she shook her head. “No, we just need a few items today. Some cornmeal to start with.”
She read off her short list and watched as the clerk moved efficiently behind the gleaming wooden counter. He filled a cloth sack with her sugar, surely more than a pound, she thought, her eyes narrowing as she watched his deft movements. The lard was next, dealt with quickly, then three cans of evaporated milk.
Finally, wrapping four eggs individually in brown paper, he placed them carefully inside the bag of cornmeal. “That’ll keep ‘em from breaking if they get jostled,” he explained, tying the neck of the bag once more.
He rested both palms on the counter, leaning just a bit in her direction, his smile more eager now. “What else will you have today?”
Rachel’s mind moved quickly, counting up her spending against the coins she’d brought with her. Such strict rationing of money was a burden, but one she was willing to assume, given the alternative. There was no way she would give over the care of her brothers to strangers, no matter how well off they might be.
“How much is a small bag of tea?” she asked.
He turned from her without reply, opening a tin on the shelf behind him. From within rose a pungent aroma as he turned with it to face her. His smile was inviting as he scooped out a generous portion into a metal box.
“I don’t think I can afford that much,” Rachel protested as he closed the lid tightly on the enameled container. Covered with painted roses and green leaves, intertwined over the top and down the sides, it beckoned her, silently tempting her.
“Well, why don’t we just call it a welcome present from Green Rapids, ma’am. You’re a stranger here, and we like to make newcomers feel at home.”
As a gesture of friendship, it was more than she had expected. But from the look in his eyes and the ready grin he bestowed upon her, she suspected he’d taken a shine to her.
“I don’t know you, sir,” she said quietly, aware of the silence of her brothers as they flanked her in a silent show of support.
“Conrad Carson, proprietor, ma’am,” he announced, offering his hand politely. “At your service.”
His bow spoke of old-world manners and good upbringing and Rachel was mollified. Her hand felt cool as she placed it against his smooth palm for a moment Clean, with well-kept nails, it touched hers with assurance.
She was reminded suddenly of the hand she’d taken hold of just two days ago. That hard, callused hand that had held hers with care. A far cry from this storekeeper’s.
“Thank you, Mr. Carson,” Rachel said, withdrawing her palm from his touch. She fumbled in her pocket for her small change purse and drew it forth. “How much do I owe you?”
“Well, let’s see now.” Quickly, he scratched out figures on a piece of brown paper and told her the total of her purchases before he wrapped the bits and pieces together in the heavy paper.
Rachel counted out her coins and breathed a sigh of relief. She had enough and a bit left over. Recklessly, she handed each boy a penny. “You can buy a piece of candy, if you like,” she told them beneath her breath.
“Really, Rae?” squeaked Jay.
“Can we afford it?” Henry whispered, standing tiptoe to speak closer to her ear.
She nodded and smiled at the two of them, these dear boys she would defend with her very life if need be. And then she watched as they marched quickly to the glass case that held jars of assorted candies.
He’d give her a week, he’d decided, riding back to the ranch house. He’d let her eke out