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Chapter Nine

Both of them were silent on the ride to Medicine Bow, but it was a comforting silence to Katie, the kind of quiet when you share space with a friend, or so she thought.

Ned stopped the wagon in front of Bradley’s Mercantile and helped her out onto the board sidewalk. “Go inside and look around,” he said. “They may or may not have anything resembling what you think we might need, but that’s Medicine Bow.” He straightened his Stetson. “I’m going to the Watering Hole for a drink.”

“Don’t you get likkered,” she teased.

“My mother used to say that,” he replied, and she saw good humor in his eyes. “Haven’t heard it in years.” He tipped his hat to her. “Thanks for the reminder.”

She nodded and went into the mercantile. The odor of dried fish, leather and coffee, with a hint of molasses drifting in from some dark corner made her wrinkle her nose.

“Can I help you, miss?” the man behind the counter said.

“Ayuh,” she said, which made him smile. “I mean, yes.” She handed him the list Ned had given her.

He scanned it. “Hmm. More sugar. Cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg? Ned’s never given me a list like this.”

“Christmas is coming,” she reminded him. “I intend to do something about it.”

That announcement brought another smile, accompanied by more thorough appraisal. “Tell me now—did Ned Avery find himself a wife?”

Katie felt her face heat up. “He needs a chore girl to help with his father,” she explained, lowering her voice. “I fell on hard times, and he ended up hiring me.”

“I did hear he had a mission to accomplish in Cheyenne,” the man—probably Mr. Bradley—told her. “How is Daniel?”

“Bored, mainly. He thinks I am unnecessary, but he lets me read to him,” she replied.

“I can’t imagine this state of affairs sits well with him,” Mr. Bradley said. “He used to be so strong and capable. Well, like Ned. Let’s see that list.”

Kate went through her own list quickly, adding each item to a growing pile on the counter. She stood by the cash register while Mr. Bradley toted up her purchases, and noticed the help-wanted sign for the first time.

“What sort of work do you need help with, Mr. Bradley?” she asked, when he came to the end of the list.

“Simple stuff—stocking the shelves, sweeping out, keeping things tidy,” he said. He rang up the total. “Fifteen dollars. I’ll box these and get them out to the buckboard.”

“Are you thinking of bailing out?” he asked as they carried the boxes to the buckboard. “Need a job?”

They walked back to the store together. “No, sir, I promised I would help out and I don’t go back on my word.”

“Why are you interested?”

“I’m asking for Pete Avery,” she said. “Mr. Bradley, Pete doesn’t like ranch work, and he can do all those things you listed.” She clasped her hands together and gave the merchant her kindest smile. “He would feel so useful, and he would be dependable.”

“I don’t know,” Mr. Bradley said, and she heard all the doubt in his voice.

“Could you think about it?” she asked.

“Think about what?”

Startled, she turned around to see Ned standing in the doorway. As she looked at him, her confidence dribbled away. It was probably a stupid idea anyway.

“Your chore girl here is wondering if your brother might be a good store clerk,” Mr. Bradley said, pointing to the help-wanted sign.

Ned stared at the sign, then glared at Kate. “There’s no need to joke about Pete.”

“I’m not joking,” she replied, stung by the disbelief in his voice. “Pete can put cans on shelves. He can sweep and tidy up. He’s polite, and I’ll wager he knows a lot of people here in Medicine Bow.”

“He doesn’t need to work here.” Ned turned away to count out the money he owed. “Unlike you, the Averys aren’t charity cases.”

That stung. Kate felt the familiar prickle of tears behind her eyes. Some imp made her keep talking. “He can do this work, and you know how he feels about riding fence.” She turned to Mr. Bradley, who was watching the two of them with real interest. “If you hire Pete, is there a place he could stay?”

“Right here. There’s a little room off the storeroom,” he said, for some reason taking her side. “I can tell you I wouldn’t mind having someone down here at night. He could eat upstairs with us.”

“It’s out of the question,” Ned replied, but he sounded neither determined nor irritated now.

“Why?” Kate asked softly. “Pete can work and earn money, same as you and me.”

“I’m liking this idea more and more,” Mr. Bradley said. “Why not try? If it doesn’t work after a week or so, we’ll know.” The merchant turned the force of his enthusiasm on Ned. “Your ma used to tell my wife that all she wanted was for Pete to have a chance at something. What could be better than this? He knows Millie and me. Hell, Pete knows everyone in town! What do you say?”

“Just don’t say no so fast, Ned,” Kate urged. “Can we think about it?”

“We?” Ned asked, exasperated again.

You’re not going to make me angry, she thought. She took a deep breath. “Yes, we. If Pete goes to work here, we’ll have to work a little harder to take care of your father.”

“You don’t mind?” Ned asked, and she knew she had him.

“Of course not. Nothing changes for me. You’re the one who won’t have any extra help outside.”

Ned sighed. “As it is, with Pete I’m dragging around a boat anchor. He’d rather do anything than get on a horse and ride all day.”

“There you are,” Mr. Bradley said cheerfully.

Silence for a moment, as Ned looked from her to the merchant and back. “All right. I’ll bring him to town tomorrow and we’ll try it for a week.”

“Shake on it?” Mr. Bradley asked, holding out his hand.

They shook hands, and Kate wanted to do a two-step around the pickle barrel.

Mr. Bradley beamed at them both. “Your chore girl and I loaded the food in the buckboard. Millie and I will tidy that little room tonight. Bring Pete by anytime before noon, will you?”

“You got me,” Ned told Katie after he helped her into the buckboard and went around to his side.

“I saw the sign and thought of Pete,” she said simply, determined not to apologize for a good idea acted upon.

He didn’t say anything for half the journey home, and then he started to chuckle. Kate felt the tension leave her shoulders.

“We’ll try it out,” he told her. “Pete used to milk the cow morning and night. You up for that?”

“If you’ll remind me how. It’s been years.”

“My pleasure.” He started on his tuneless whistle that she was already familiar with. She relaxed some more when Pete met them at the front door—the only door—of the worst place she had ever lived. Funny that she was already thinking of it as home.