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Hooves clip-clopped on the hard ground, and tack rattled like chains as they headed down the road toward town.
“You’re going to love Marcel Mercantile. They have a nice selection of fabrics and shoes.”
Selina was sure she would. She hadn’t ever spent much time in a store before. No need to. Never had any money to buy anything. Jumpin’ crickets. How was she going to pay for the material and shoes? Michael had to know she didn’t have any money. Well, she wouldn’t fret about that now. She’d wait until she got to the store, then she’d know what to do or what not to do.
“Michael said to tell you he set up an account for you to get whatever you wanted or needed and not to worry about how much it cost. Wasn’t that sweet of him?”
Shock ran through her. “Sure is.”
About a quarter mile up the road from the ranch, Selina spotted a large herd of cows on one side of the road and a large herd of pigs on the other. Michael and three other men were riding through the cows. She twisted in her seat, longing to join him, but that wasn’t going to happen today. She was on her way into town to get new shoes and material to make new clothes.
Things she’d never had before.
Her and her brothers’ clothes were made from other folk’s hand-me-downs, and they never could afford new shoes. New shoes. Something she needed desperately. The ones on her feet were worn thinner than a moth’s wings and about as fragile, too.
Up the road a ways, about two miles, she noticed a sawmill in the trees with several large stacks of wood and logs. And even farther up the road was a field filled with red poppies. “Can we stop a minute?”
Leah looked at her with surprise. “Um. Sure. Whoa, Lambie.” She pulled the reins and the buggy came to a stop.
Selina hopped down and ran over to the red poppies. She stooped to take a look at them.
A few minutes later, Leah came up behind her.
“Ain’t these purty? The edges of the petals look like the wrinkled skin of an old person. Just as beautiful, too.” A bee buzzed around her, landing in the black center of the flower beside her. She watched, amazed at God’s creation and how the bee’s wings kept that little varmint in one spot while it worked on that flower. Selina turned to say something about it to Leah, but she was back in the buggy.
Selina gently held a flower in her hand and leaned over, breathing in deeply. Sweet honey was the only way to describe the wonderful scent. Not wanting to keep Leah any longer, she made her way back to the wagon, running her fingers lightly over a few of the petals along the way.
She climbed into the buggy. “Sorry to keep you waitin’.”
“You weren’t keeping me waiting. I hurried back here because I’m scared to death of bees.”
“How come?”
“Well, one time, I got stung by a whole bunch of them all at once. Since then I’ve been deathly afraid of them.”
“That’s too bad. They’re right pleasurable to watch.”
“I’ll just have to take your word for it.” Leah laughed and Selina joined her.
The buggy shifted as it moved forward.
“Them poppies sure were purty.” She looked around. “This place is a lot different from back home.”
“You’re from Kentucky, right?”
“Yes.”
“Think you’ll like living out here?”
“I reckon I will well enough.”
“Were you scared to move so far from home? To marry a complete stranger?”
“Well, I never felt I was marryin’ a stranger. Me and Michael had written so much, I felt as iffen I knew him already.” She wouldn’t tell Leah that things had gotten messed up in that area. She’d keep that information to herself.
“I’m thinking about placing an advertisement in some of the larger newspapers back east,” Leah said, keeping her eyes straight ahead.
That shocked Selina. “Why would a purty gal like you need to place an ad?”
“Same reason as you.” Leah smiled. “I’m looking for a nice man to marry. I’m not getting any younger.”
“How old are ya?”
“Twenty-three. I’ll be twenty-four in December. If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you, Selina?”
“Just turned twenty-five.” She shifted in her seat. “I know it ain’t none a my business, but I was told there ain’t many women out here even with the comin’ of the train. So why would someone as purty and sweet as you have to place an ad? Ain’t none of the men here tickled your fancy?”
“There’s a few good men who have ‘tickled my fancy,’ as you say. But, I don’t want to stay here. I want to move back to New York to live in the big city again. Years ago, when my father announced that he wanted to leave New York and move out west to the Idaho Territory, I asked Mother why. She said Father had an adventurous spirit. I can relate. I do, too. Just not for this place. The winters are just too long here and I really don’t like living on a ranch.” Leah sighed. “Even though I was young when we moved, I still remember wearing party dresses and going to balls. I know it sounds silly, but I want to do that again.”
