Page 16 of West Wind

CHAPTER SIX

They traveled for two more days before they came to Coldwater Creek, a narrow, dusty town west of Cheyenne. A silent agreement had been reached between them; they didn’t speak of their evening of tequila and poetry by the fire. Annabelle pushed the memory of their kiss to the back of her mind, assuring herself that it couldn’t have been half as wonderful as she recalled. She’d been kissed before, after all, and a kiss from one man was no different than one from another. At least Shelley didn’t remember, neither the kiss nor her confession that she liked him.

And she did like him. That was what made it so difficult to lie. She’d told the story of her fictitious life in St. Louis so many times it almost seemed real to her. Normally the lies came easily to her lips, but not when Shelley looked straight at her and asked probing questions.

As the days grew warmer she cursed her heavy dress. She’d never spent much time outdoors, and was beginning to hate the relentless sun. Even though they began travel well before light, while the air was cool and the aromatic scent of pine surrounded them, it seemed no time at all before the sun rose and threatened to bake the very skin from her bones.

Coldwater Creek was dominated by a large general store, though there was a livery, a saloon, a hotel, a barber shop. All the trappings of a successful town. Everyone there knew Shelley. People on the boardwalk waved and called out to him, and he flashed easy smiles at everyone he saw.

She followed him into the general store. A portly man with graying hair met Shelley near the entrance. She stood behind her escort while the two men exchanged pleasantries and shook hands heartily.

Shelley turned to her, took her arm, and introduced her to Walter Lawrence, proprietor of the general store.

“We’ve got to get Annie here outfitted for a trip to California,” Shelley said, keeping his hand on her arm.

Mr. Lawrence smiled. “I’m surprised a lovely young lady like yourself isn’t taking the rail.”

Shelley jumped in before she could answer. “Annie here wants to see the elephant. She’s a more adventurous woman than you might think, to look at her.”

She would’ve defended herself—he made it sound as if she were some sort of thrill seeker—but before she could say a word, a young girl burst into the room, tight blonde curls quivering about her face, her blue eyes alight as she ran straight to Shelley.

“Oh, Shelley,” she said, slightly breathless. “It’s just been forever since you’ve visited.” She looked at him with adoring eyes. “Are you staying long? There’s a dance on Saturday.”

“Sorry, darlin’. We won’t be here but just a little while.” He gave her a crooked grin and tapped a long, brown finger under her chin. The tiny lines at the corners of his eyes deepened, crinkling his sun-bronzed skin with that easy grin.

The pretty girl noticed Annabelle, and her smile faded. “Who is this?”

“This is Mrs. Ann Brown, from St. Louis. Annie, this lovely young lady is Willa Lawrence. Walter’s daughter.”

Willa was probably no more than sixteen, a pretty girl dressed in a pink and white gingham that was far more suited to the June heat than the heavy black silk Annabelle was forced to wear. The young woman looked as cool as a spring morning, even as she glared at Annabelle.

“How do you do, Mrs. Brown,” she said respectfully, but Annabelle had the feeling she was being insulted just the same. “Surely you’re not⁠—”

“Mrs. Brown is traveling to San Francisco,” Shelley interrupted. “Maybe you can help us choose a few things, Willa. Annie here needs a good, sturdy pair of boots, and some britches⁠—”

“Britches!” Willa’s hand went to her throat in what Annabelle was certain was mock dismay. “I can’t imagine a proper older lady such as Mrs. Brown wearing britches!”

To Annabelle’s mortification, Shelley laughed. “Hard to picture, I know, but it’s practical.”

They chose a soft pair of tan pants, and a white cotton shirt that looked so cool Annabelle longed to change her clothes right there in the store. When it came time to choose a pair of boots, their troubles began. Her feet were too small for the boots Mr. Lawrence stocked. The only pair he had in her size were short ankle boots made of soft, red leather. She tried them on, lacing them snugly. They fit, and were surprisingly comfortable.

“I ordered these for a lady here in town, but she up and took off for back East before they came in. I swear, I thought I’d never get rid of these. I can give you a real good price. They’re so small, they’re even too small for Willa’s feet, not that I’d allow her to wear a pair of bright red boots like…” He stopped abruptly, perhaps afraid he was about to ruin a sale.

Annabelle glanced down at the outlandish red boots. They’d surely serve her better than the emerald green slippers that were already falling apart. She took a few tentative steps in the tightly laced boots, then turned to Shelley and lifted her hem just a fraction. In a synchronized motion they looked at the crimson boots, then looked up until their eyes met and they burst into uncontrolled laughter. Mr. Lawrence and his petulant daughter stared at them as if they were insane.

After a few moments their laughter stopped, and Shelley turned to the storekeeper.

“We’ll take them.”

That wasn’t all they took. In addition to the clothes and the boots, Shelley insisted that she purchase a new hat, something more in keeping with her new look. He selected a tan hat similar to his own, and placed it on her head. He gathered together more food and another bedroll, and they hadn’t even looked at horses yet.

As Shelley continued to pile goods on the smiling shopkeeper’s counter, she chased after him, trying to get his attention in a subtle way. Finally he stopped, and she plucked at his sleeve.

“Shelley,” she whispered hoarsely, not wanting to embarrass herself in front of Mr. Lawrence. “This is bound to cost well over thirty-six dollars, and I still need a horse and a saddle.”

He looked down at Annie as she argued in her soft voice. She stood close, lost in the volumes of her ridiculous mourning dress. Her brown eyes were huge, opened wide in a face as delicate as fine porcelain. Yeah, she had to go.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll lend you the money and you can repay me when you’re able.” He said the words with indifference.