The Whippoorwill Trilogy - Sharon Sala Page 0,261

take long to warm it up when Eulis got home. She wanted to make some bread to go with it, but she was out of flour and cornmeal. Despite the weather, she decided to saddle up her horse and ride down into Denver City. She might get some of that fabric she’d been looking at down at the general store. She didn’t need furniture to begin making curtains, and it would be something to do.

She dug an old poncho out of the trunk and pulled it over her head, then grabbed her hat on the way out the door. T-Bone was sitting in the rain beside the saddled horse, making sure that she couldn’t slip away without him. As soon as she stepped off the porch, the rain blew into her face. She settled her hat a little firmer on her head as she mounted. Even though she was soon soaked to the skin, it felt good to be outside and moving. The trail down into town was sloped and winding, but it was solid and in some places, sheltered by the trees. It seemed like no time before she was riding into town.

Shock came quickly.

The roar of rushing water from Cherry Creek was plainly audible, and the number of displaced people was obvious. They huddled anywhere there was shelter and their misery was reflected in the gloomy looks they cast her way.

She ducked her head and kept on riding until she got to the general store. She dismounted in ankle deep mud, and when she tried to walk, struggled to stay in her boots.

“Here ma’am, take my hand,” a man said, and she did, thankful when he pulled her up and onto the narrow wooden sidewalk.

“Thank you,” she said, and ventured a quick look at his face. He was a stranger to her, and from the cut of his clothes, probably a gambler—certainly not a miner. However, a gold camp brought in all sorts of people hoping to capitalize on the gold dust and money rolling around.

She stomped as much of the mud from her boots as she could before entering the general store, only to find it so packed with people she could hardly move about.

She nodded to some of the women she recognized, and then kept moving toward the counter to where Milton Feasley was standing.

When he saw her coming through the crowd, he beamed. At last, a paying customer.

“Howdy, Miz Potter. How can I help you today?”

Letty nodded at the store owner, and as she did, the image of Vern Goslin popped into her head. Vern had owned the general store back in Lizard Flats and was the exact opposite of Milton in every way possible. Vern had been the human equivalent of a grizzly bear and smelled worse than the buffalo skins he was so fond of wearing. Still, he’d been kind to her when nearly everyone else had judged and found her wanting. She wondered how Milton would behave if he knew what she’d been in the past, then figured from the glitter in his eyes that he wouldn’t care as long as she could pay.

“I’m needing some flour or cornmeal,” she said. “Can’t cook a proper meal for my husband without fixing him some bread.”

Milton nodded. He was partial to bread, himself.

“Yes, ma’am, but it’ll have to be cornmeal. I’m plumb out of flour until the next freighter comes through.”

“That’s fine,” Letty said.

“…oughta’ be ashamed.”

The words drifted over the murmur of voices from the crowd gathered inside the store. She knew they were talking about her. God only knew how many times she’d been judged before and found wanting. It shouldn’t have mattered. But it did.

She turned away from the counter and moved toward a table where Milton had displayed about a dozen bolts of fabric. Letty had seen them plenty of times before, and had made up her mind as to the pieces she wanted for curtains.

Milton followed her to the table.

“Will you be needing some fabric today, Miz Potter?”

“Yes.” She pointed to a couple of different patterns. “I’d like ten yards each of those two.”

“…showin’ off cause she’s rich.”

Milton glanced nervously at Letty, well aware that she’d heard that comment, too. He’d expected to see tears, or at the least, a show of emotion. He was wrong.

Letty lifted her chin and turned abruptly, catching the women who were talking about her before they could look away. Startled by the confrontational look on her face, the women found themselves under scrutiny, as