lent an irritating tremor to his hand.
Satisfied, Reed picked up the carpetbag on the floor beside him. Glancing cautiously toward the door, he dug down deep into the bag, withdrew a small derringer from the lining at the bottom, and secreted it in the sling inside his boot. Ready at last, he turned toward the door.
Annoyed when his step was still a trifle unsteady, Reed softly cursed. A little fresh air was all he needed, and he'd be himself again. Holding that thought in mind, he walked slowly down the staircase toward the first floor.
"Oh, no, this can't be!"
Chastity held up the faded black dress that had been her carefully selected traveling attire when she'd started out on her journey. She assessed it with true distress. She had risen early that morning, indulged herself with another bath in Sally's tub, and then made her way directly to the small laundry shack where she had left her dress to be laundered two days earlier. Standing in the ramshackle structure now, she could feel tears welling in her eyes.
Chastity turned sharply toward the bewhiskered proprietor, who stared at her coldly. Unable to restrain her accusing tone, she rasped, "What happened to this dress? It's at least two sizes smaller than it was when I brought it in, and the color… there isn't any!"
"I didn't do nothin' to it! My girls washed and ironed it, like you wanted."
"But… but…"
"They wash all the clothes that come in here the same way. They don't treat none of them no different than any other. Alkali soap gets everythin' clean.''
Alkali soap?" Chastity shook her head, incredulous.
"And boilin' water. There ain't no dirt in this country that my girls can't boil out."
"Boil out…" Chastity felt herself go limp. Aware that further protest was useless, she replied, "All right. Keep the dress. Maybe you know somebody who can use it."
"There ain't nobody in mournin' in this town that I know of.
"In mourning?"
"Don't know nobody who'd wear a dress like that if they wasn't." He paused to consider that statement. "Maybe old Ma Gillis might be able to use it, though. She ain't got much, and she ain't too particular what she looks like."
Chastity's lips twitched in a weak smile. "Fine."
The old man's expression tightened when Chastity started to turn away. "Wait a minute, there! Who's goin' to pay for the launderin'?"
"Pay for the laundering? My dress is ruined and you want me to pay?"
The old man bit down hard on toothless gums. Squinting in her direction, he spat, "Look lady, I don't know how they handle things where you come from back East, but out here, we pay what we owe, or we pay the price, if you get what I mean."
Aghast, Chastity stared at the small rooster of a man. "Sir, are you threatening me?"
"No, I ain't. I'm just tellin' you what's goin' to happen if I don't get what's owed me!"
… barbaric country …
Chastity forced back the persistent echo of Aunt Penelope's voice as she slapped a coin down on the counter and left the glowering old man behind her.
Emerging onto the street, Chastity glanced toward the mercantile store at the far end. She picked unconsciously at the skirt of the pale blue cotton dress she wore. She should never have trusted the delicate fabric of her traveling dress to the hands of frontier laundresses. She should have known better.
Chastity inwardly groaned. What was she going to do now? Reed had recuperated rapidly during the past two days. It was almost as if he had willed himself better, so swift had been the improvement in his condition. Whatever the cause of his remarkable recovery, she was certain they would start out soon on the journey into Indian Territory a journey to which she had committed herself in a weak, sympathetic moment.
Chastity breathed a frustrated sigh. This wild,
Satisfied, Reed picked up the carpetbag on the floor beside him. Glancing cautiously toward the door, he dug down deep into the bag, withdrew a small derringer from the lining at the bottom, and secreted it in the sling inside his boot. Ready at last, he turned toward the door.
Annoyed when his step was still a trifle unsteady, Reed softly cursed. A little fresh air was all he needed, and he'd be himself again. Holding that thought in mind, he walked slowly down the staircase toward the first floor.
"Oh, no, this can't be!"
Chastity held up the faded black dress that had been her carefully selected traveling attire when she'd started out on her journey. She assessed it with true distress. She had risen early that morning, indulged herself with another bath in Sally's tub, and then made her way directly to the small laundry shack where she had left her dress to be laundered two days earlier. Standing in the ramshackle structure now, she could feel tears welling in her eyes.
Chastity turned sharply toward the bewhiskered proprietor, who stared at her coldly. Unable to restrain her accusing tone, she rasped, "What happened to this dress? It's at least two sizes smaller than it was when I brought it in, and the color… there isn't any!"
"I didn't do nothin' to it! My girls washed and ironed it, like you wanted."
"But… but…"
"They wash all the clothes that come in here the same way. They don't treat none of them no different than any other. Alkali soap gets everythin' clean.''
Alkali soap?" Chastity shook her head, incredulous.
"And boilin' water. There ain't no dirt in this country that my girls can't boil out."
"Boil out…" Chastity felt herself go limp. Aware that further protest was useless, she replied, "All right. Keep the dress. Maybe you know somebody who can use it."
"There ain't nobody in mournin' in this town that I know of.
"In mourning?"
"Don't know nobody who'd wear a dress like that if they wasn't." He paused to consider that statement. "Maybe old Ma Gillis might be able to use it, though. She ain't got much, and she ain't too particular what she looks like."
Chastity's lips twitched in a weak smile. "Fine."
The old man's expression tightened when Chastity started to turn away. "Wait a minute, there! Who's goin' to pay for the launderin'?"
"Pay for the laundering? My dress is ruined and you want me to pay?"
The old man bit down hard on toothless gums. Squinting in her direction, he spat, "Look lady, I don't know how they handle things where you come from back East, but out here, we pay what we owe, or we pay the price, if you get what I mean."
Aghast, Chastity stared at the small rooster of a man. "Sir, are you threatening me?"
"No, I ain't. I'm just tellin' you what's goin' to happen if I don't get what's owed me!"
… barbaric country …
Chastity forced back the persistent echo of Aunt Penelope's voice as she slapped a coin down on the counter and left the glowering old man behind her.
Emerging onto the street, Chastity glanced toward the mercantile store at the far end. She picked unconsciously at the skirt of the pale blue cotton dress she wore. She should never have trusted the delicate fabric of her traveling dress to the hands of frontier laundresses. She should have known better.
Chastity inwardly groaned. What was she going to do now? Reed had recuperated rapidly during the past two days. It was almost as if he had willed himself better, so swift had been the improvement in his condition. Whatever the cause of his remarkable recovery, she was certain they would start out soon on the journey into Indian Territory a journey to which she had committed herself in a weak, sympathetic moment.
Chastity breathed a frustrated sigh. This wild,
Similar Books
