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Never.
* * * *
She watched him disappear into the saloon, still fuming. Then turned and walked briskly down the dirt road, trying to decide in which place to start first.
The town was not very big and did not have a large selection of places she could make enquiries about her mining claim. Wooden buildings lined the street, horses tied to fence posts here and there. Very few people were on the street today, most were probably attending to their business. There were most of the common businesses you would see in a town this size, a horseshoe farrier, general store, bank, saloon, jail, church, and hotel.
Barbara walked to the building closest to her, which happened to be the sheriff's office and also the jail. She assumed that the jail was the addition to the side of the only stone building that she had seen in the small town.
The wooden door creaked as she opened it. There was a large empty desk covered by papers and the room was not too large, but surprisingly devoid of people. She called out, hoping to hear someone was inside. “Hello?"
A man had been reclining on a chair, his legs kicked up on the desk. His hat tipped low over his eyes, he grumbled a little as if he was just waking up. Removing his hat, he looked around for who had interrupted his afternoon nap. He was cheerful as he spoke, despite the rough burr of his voice. “Howdy ma'am."
"Howdy,” she answered, nervously fingering her dress.
Even in the middle of the day, the sheriff's office was dismal and darker than it should be. Downright depressing. If it was up to Barbara, she would have poured a coat of paint on the inside and the outside of the building. But it wasn't her decision to make, nor her place.
"I am new to the area, Sheriff, and just thought I would stop in and say hello."
"Well it's a privilege to have such a pretty lady stop by.” Barbara blushed at his kind words. “What's your name?"
"Barbara Lane."
"You staying with family?"
"Not exactly. My father died recently and I inherited his mining claim. So I am staying with his partner, Vincent Waverly."
"Ah, good man. With him looking out after you, you shouldn't have any trouble round these parts, but if you ever need any help, you can be sure to find me. I am the only law ‘round these parts and keep the order and the peace. Not that we have too much trouble, most of the people are good people. We have a few ranchers, and a few cowboys, but most of the people are miners. It's not like we have too many outlaws to deal with. Just a few claim jumpers now and then."
Claim jumpers? Barbara hoped she never had to deal with claim jumpers. If anyone ever wanted her mine, they could just have it. They would not have to take it at gunpoint. “Well, that makes me feel at ease. But I was not here to talk to you about that kind of business ... I was actually here to see if you knew anyone who might be interested in a mining claim."
"A mining claim? You don't mean old Buster's mining claim, do you? He was one of the poorest miners around. He hasn't had a strike for years. No offense, ma'am, but I think you won't be able to give that claim away. Anyone can go register a mining claim and it's not expensive to go make one of their own. Fact is, unless you do make some kind of a gold strike, I don't think you will be able to sell it to anyone."
Barbara's hopes fell to pieces, and she could feel her stomach clench in frustration. She wouldn't be able to give this claim away? She would never be able to get out of this situation. Once again she mentally cursed her father for putting her in his will. Then instantly she felt a little guilty. It wasn't her father's fault she was in this mess. She was the one who made this decision to come all the way out to California. “Well, thank you for your time, Sheriff. You have been very helpful."
"No problem at all, ma'am.” Seeing she was on her way out, he stood up and walked her to the door, holding it open for her as any gentleman would.
Now that she had talked to the sheriff, Barbara almost gave up hope on selling the useless piece of paper she owned. She was going to be stuck with that mining claim and Vincent for the rest of her life. Somehow the thought of being stuck with Vincent didn't upset her as much as it should. She could almost imagine them slipping into some sort of happy routine, filled with normal everyday events, sharing them as any couple would share their life.
It would be far too easy to make believe they were married and possibly slip into becoming his lover as well.
God, what was she thinking? She could never become his lover, or she would only be his mistress.
Oh, well.
She should probably spend some time looking at dresses, even if she couldn't afford the extravagance, so she could be truthful when she said she left to look at dresses today. She should at least know the latest style or be able to tell him what she looked at if he questioned her. So she made her way to the dressmaker shop first.
The large glass window displayed the latest styles from back East. Three female mannequins were lined up in dresses with sleek lines and full skirts, all of them modest, but there was one that caught Barbara's eye. The creamy material was a mixture of satin and lace. It was the most beautiful wedding dress that Barbara had ever seen. Pearl buttons made a neat row lining the back of the dress. It was form fitting around the chest and down to the waist, but the skirts were full falling to the floor.
It was not as if she was looking for a wedding dress, but she had an urge to go in and look at it. It looked like it could fit, which was unusual to find. With her large chest size, it had always been difficult shopping for clothes. Even the simplest of garments would have to be ordered too large or custom fitted. Her mother had helped her to make many of her clothes, since cost was always an issue.
Perhaps in the future, she would have the opportunity to buy it. One day Barbara would get married and she hoped to be married in something as beautiful as this dress. It would look as if made just for her.
She entered the small shop, the door clanged shut behind her, and the bell rang as she entered. She could hear the shopkeeper hurry to the front of the store to help her customer. Barbara wasn't in a hurry. She walked through racks of material and racks of men and women's clothing to see the chiffon creation in the window that had caught her eye.
Barbara lifted the tag that hung from the dress, examining the price tag. She bit her lip in consternation, a frown wrinkling her smooth forehead. Just as she had thought, the dress was too expensive for her. At least for now.
"May I help you?” A sugary sweet voice came from behind her.
Barbara turned around to find the shopkeeper there staring at her. She was a round woman, much
shorter than Barbara, but seemingly friendly.
"Thank you, I am new to the town and just thought I would look at your dresses."
"Oh, really? What brings you to our little town?"
"Nothing much—just work."
The woman's gaze turned speculative. “There's not a certain man in your life to want a wedding dress?"
"Not really."
"So what you need is a dress to work in?"
"Well I don't really need a dress at the moment, but I suppose...” It wouldn't hurt to find something more durable, but Barbara had been thinking of using men's clothes more than buying another dress. Vincent's denim pants seemed to hold up well to the everyday wear.
"Oh, my. I have just the thing for you, miss. We get a lot of women here that come for dresses for their work. We have quite a selection.” The little woman made her way to the back of the shop, opening a door to another room that was full of some of the brightest clothing that Barbara had ever seen. Feathered boas and fancy hats, exotic feathers and sequined dresses, lined the walls. Almost every dress was cut low and revealing, with Barbara's bust line she would be showing far more skin than made her comfortable.
But fitting into the dresses wouldn't be a problem, she knew as she looked around the room her mouth, still agape in her shock. She had just been taken into the back room of the dress shop and the shopkeeper had mistaken her for a woman of ... oh, God.
Barbara's face was bright red as she hissed out, “I don't know what you think I do for a living, but I am no whore."
"Oh, I am sorry.” The woman's face reddened after Barbara laid into her. Which made Barbara feel apologetic for a moment. “But I thought that was what you meant when you said you came to town for work. Many ladies travel through here and it is the only real job in town for a lady such as yourself."
"A lady such as myself?” Barbara was indignant with outrage at the remark. She was trying to prevent being thought of as a harlot, or a mistress. She did her best to maintain a decent reputation, counting on it if she wanted to marry for love, but people had always made assumptions about her just because of the size of her breasts.
