drunk and smelly, but she could have overlooked those flaws for the few moments she would need to borrow his name.
Drat that fine-looking Mr. Suede. If he hadn’t filled her prospect’s fist with money and sent him along to the saloon, she’d be hitching up her rented team, ready to cross the wide-open prairie by now. She’d finally be going home.
Not to someone else’s home, to her own. What a wonder it would be to plant trees in her own soil and watch them grow. Wouldn’t it be fine to not have to continually move on, and leave her plantings to grow up without her?
In her new life there wouldn’t be other people’s children hanging on her skirts wanting this and that. Emma had still been a child herself when she had started raising other folks’ babies. Praise be that the days of other people’s children were behind her. No more wiping runny noses, sitting up all night through fevers and cheering their first steps and words, just to be forced to take another position and never see them again.
From now on it was just Emma, free to come and go, free to sit or stand, with nobody wanting a thing from her.
Emma watched the rectangle of light grow dark when Jesse closed the barn door. She turned about and walked with open arms toward her horse.
“Well, Pearl, old girl.” Pearl wasn’t really old, but she was blind and tended to move with caution, which gave her an aged look. Emma stroked the velvety nose that nudged her ribs in welcome. “I missed you, too. There’s just a little chance that you’ll have to spend the night at the livery one more time. Seems like the men here are a bit skittish when it comes to matrimony. It’s not at all like everyone back in Indiana says.”
No indeed, it was so much more complicated getting a husband. She had expected to simply file on the land that Edna Harkins had written her about and gone to live on a piece of earth that would be her own.
She hadn’t figured on the trials of having to get a man. Well, that was just one more complication of having been an orphan. Being left on the steps of a church as a newborn had made her who she was, for good and for ill.
Emma rubbed Pearl behind one ear, then patted the white diamond on the chestnut head before she went to the corner of the livery where her rented wagon stood ready and waiting to make the trip to her homestead.
“Don’t you worry, Pearl, we’ll go home soon,” Emma called out to the horse while she lifted the flap covering the goods necessary to set up housekeeping. She had passed the morning at various shops in Dodge using an uncomfortable portion of her savings, but she had spent wisely and had the funds to get started and then some.
Emma touched the bag of money tied about her waist. It couldn’t be seen beneath her skirt, but when she walked, it hit her thigh with a reassuring slap.
Very soon, life would be grander than she could have ever imagined. Those days of caring for everyone but herself were at an end. Poor orphan Emma, whom everyone pitied enough to take into their home in exchange for working her youth away, was about to become queen of her world.
“This time tomorrow, Pearl, you’ll be grazing on land so nice and flat and big that you can wander about all day and never leave home.”
Poor blind Pearl—Emma hoped that the horse would enjoy the freedom of the open country. Years ago an employer had given her the horse as a parting gift when he had decided to move his family to the East Coast. Families came and went, but Pearl was her own.
With a sigh, she put away misty memories of children that were not her own and trees that grew tall without her.
The troublesome search for a husband had done her in. Surely she would have better luck after she was fresh and rested. Just behind her rented wagon was a clean heap of straw that would do for a short nap. She lay down on it, spread her arms wide and watched dust specks play tag in a beam of light.
Wasn’t this fine? To simply lie back without an employer needing this or that seemed the life of luxury.
Just as soon as she borrowed a man, life would be cherries and cream.