Calder Brand - Janet Dailey Page 0,61

into a routine that she enjoyed, and she sensed that he enjoyed it, too. But she knew better than to think it could last.

Two nights ago, needing a drink of water, she’d gotten up, pattered barefoot into the kitchen, and looked down at Joe where he lay next to the stove. For a long moment, she’d stood gazing at his sleeping face. The yearnings that welled in her almost brought tears as she resisted the urge to bend down, kiss his virile mouth, and invite him back to bed with her. Sarah might be a virgin, but she was no innocent. She’d delivered babies and discussed the most intimate matters with her female patients. She knew what was likely to happen—and right then she’d wanted it. She’d ached for it. With him.

But they were sensible people, she and Joe. Nothing was going to happen. They would part as friends and go their separate ways—maybe exchange a letter or two, then nothing more.

Joe was still wearing Uncle Harlan’s clothes—trousers of fine gray worsted, linen shirts, and a knitted vest, with the underwear and stockings that went underneath. The clothes fit him, but they didn’t suit him, and they wouldn’t do for the trail. Before he left, he was going to need some clothes of his own.

After Rusty’s last visit, Sarah had discovered another stash of bills he’d tucked under the sourdough crock on the counter. There would be plenty of money to buy what she needed, with enough left over to give Joe when he left. Since she needed other supplies as well, it was time for a trip to the general store in town.

She’d spent most of the morning seeing patients, but the afternoon was free, the spring weather clear and warm. Joe was busy replacing the loose boards on the back porch, but he took the time to hitch Ahab to her two-wheeled cart. After telling him she’d be back in a couple of hours, Sarah tied on her straw bonnet, drove out the gate, and headed south toward the main part of town.

She hadn’t been away from the house and yard since well before Joe’s arrival. It was a pleasure to see the changes spring had brought. The prairie, dotted with scattered homesteads, was green with new grass. Meadowlarks caroled their songs from fence posts. Dandelions, white-top, and tiny purple flowers with no name bloomed along the roadsides where the water from spring rains had pooled.

Ogallala had never been a large town. But with the coming of the Union Pacific Railroad, it had become a hub for rail travelers going west and cattle drives going north or stopping to fatten their herds on rich prairie grass before shipping them off on the train.

The heart of the town was Railroad Street, which ran along the tracks. Stores, banks, business offices, a hotel with a restaurant, a schoolhouse, and most of the town’s private homes were built north of the tracks. On the south side, saloons, gambling houses, dance halls, and brothels did a raucous business day and night. The town was quiet during the fall and winter. But once the cattle drives started arriving in the spring, the goings-on would put even Dodge City to shame. Brawls, gunfights, robberies, and even murders were common, and the town jail was never empty.

Luckily for Sarah, her house was north of Ogallala. There was no need for her to pass through the wild, dangerous world south of the tracks. She was able to drive into town, leave her mule and cart at the hitching rail on a side street, and follow the boardwalk along busy Railroad Street.

The boardwalk was crowded today, with townspeople taking advantage of the good weather to do their shopping. As Sarah walked down the block toward the general store, with her empty shopping basket, she smiled and nodded at people she knew. Some had been her patients. Others she remembered from working with Uncle Harlan.

By the time she reached the general store, she’d begun to notice something strange. As she approached groups of people on her way, a hush seemed to fall over their conversations. They averted their eyes as she passed or, if they greeted her, their expressions and voices seemed strained.

But maybe that was only her imagination. She shrugged off her unease as she walked into the store.

She’d made a list of the things she needed for Joe. After waiting a few minutes for help, she was able to give the list to a young clerk,