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“Yes. How much is it, may I ask?”
She quoted him a very reasonable price.
As he placed the bedroll on the large rug near the foot of the bed, Spring said, “I’m going to head home.”
Even though he knew they’d be parting, he was still disappointed. He wanted to discuss his supposed courtship to assure her that wasn’t his intent, but the terseness on her face showed now was not the time. “Thanks for everything.”
“Telegraph office is across the street. The livery will take care of your horse. Have Dovie or Odell show you where it is. If you get the chance, walk down and introduce yourself to the sheriff, Whit Lambert. He and my brother are good friends.”
“Okay. I hope to see you again before it’s time for me to go back to Washington.”
She didn’t respond, but turned and left, and he was fine with that. If she didn’t wish to see him again, she’d’ve had no problem saying so.
“She likes you,” Dovie said.
Amused, he replied, “I’m not so sure about that.”
“I am. If she didn’t, she’d’ve sent you off withOdell after the storm. In the ten years I’ve known Spring, I don’t remember her ever taking a man in, blizzard or no blizzard. Makes you special.”
Garrett didn’t know what to say to that, so he set it aside to ponder later.
Dovie moved to the doorway. “I’ll let you get settled. Come find me if you need anything.”
“Thank you. Will do.”
As he unpacked, he thought about Dovie’s words and the fascinating run-in with Glenda Cale. Why did she think he was courting Spring? Was it a rumor started by Odell? He admittedly found Spring intriguing, but courting her? He couldn’t imagine how difficult such a challenge would be. Granted, pursuing her wouldn’t be boring, but would he survive? She didn’t suffer fools nor offer quarter. He’d stood a better chance of walking back to Washington wearing a blindfold. But there was an attraction between them. He was fairly certain she felt it, too, even if she’d probably go to her grave denying it. She impressed him as keeping a tight rein on her emotions and took pride in the control, but he wondered how she’d respond if the reins were loosened. What was she like with a lover? Did she embrace passion as fiercely as she embraced life? Last night at supper, when he asked if she’d ever been in love, her glare would’veturned him to stone had it the power. Later, in the kitchen, she seemed set upon ignoring him yet couldn’t stop meeting his eyes. He for sure couldn’t stop looking her way. He’d found the episode somewhat amusing only because she seemed angry about her inability to control what her eyes were doing. Dovie called him special. He didn’t know how truthful that was, but the more time spent with Dr. Colton Lee’s iron-willed sister, the more captivating and intriguing he found her to be.
The telegraph office was in a small log building. A barely legible weather-beaten sign above the door readParadise Trading Post. He entered and found Odell and some of the men who’d been with the old trapper earlier gathered around a checkerboard that appeared to be as old as the sign. There was sawdust on the hard-packed dirt floor. On the walls were the heads of an elk, a bear, and a big cat with one eye. The three men looked up at his entrance and Odell said, “Can I help you, McCray?”
“I’d like to send a telegraph back East, if I may.”
“Sure.” He stood and told the elderly Colored man on the other side of the checkerboard, “Keep your hands off my men, you old cheat.”
His opponent, his right leg in a cast andpropped on a listing cane chair, shot back, “I can beat you in the middle of the night wearing a blindfold. I don’t need to cheat.” He then addressed Garrett. “Name’s Porter James. Welcome to Paradise.”
“I’m Garrett McCray. Pleased to meet you, sir.” James’s hair was white as snow, but his face, the color of dark maple, was unlined. Garrett certainly hadn’t expected to meet another Colored man. He’d have to remember to ask Dr. Lee just how many other members of the race lived in the area.
The other man seated by the checkerboard introduced himself as Moss Denby. He was short, plump, and had graying mutton chops gracing his cheeks. “I drive the stagecoach. Dovie is my daughter-in-law and mother of my grandson, Wallace.”
“She’s been very helpful.” Garrett wondered what Moss thought about his son living with another woman and leaving Dovie high and dry, as she’d claimed.
Odell handed Garrett paper and pencil. “Write what you want to say and where you want it sent. Storm’s now east of us, so it may take your message a few days to get where it has to go.”
“That’s fine.” When he finished writing, he handed the paper back to Odell.
“I’ll send it right out.”
“Thank you.”
Moss asked, “Is working for a newspaper the only thing you do?”
“No. I’m a carpenter by trade.”
Porter James turned and looked him up and down. “How long?”
“Most of my life.”
“You any good?”
