No Place for a Lady (11 page)

The sharp peal of the church bell rang out, indicating the service would soon begin. Crystal watched as April waited on the
steps of the church for Luke, who took her arm and guided her to
the pew where her family was seated. Taking a seat next to Kate
and Rusty, Crystal kept her eyes straight ahead when Reverend
Alden approached the pulpit. Kurt sat on her left with Curly and
Jube behind them.

The reverend smiled directly at her. Kurt gave her a sideways
look, and she squirmed under his scrutiny and reached for a
hymnal as Bill stood. He opened his hymnal and said, "Let's all
stand and sing `To God Be the Glory,' found on page fifty-seven
in your hymnal."

The congregation raised their voices in unison under the rev-
erend's direction. His voice rang out loud and clear. Crystal was
amazed that such a rich baritone emitted from his string-bean
body.

While Bill preached, Crystal looked over the congregation.
The majority of the folks were hardworking homesteaders in
their clean but plain clothing. Their rapt faces were lined and
weathered, probably from years of outdoor labor and the harsh,
dry climate.

Her eyes fell on the aisle across from her, where Luke sat with
April. He looked very dashing in his dark suit and stiff white collar
fastened at the neck with a black string tie. April's silky blonde hair
fell down her back, and she wore a pale blue frock that matched her eyes, making her appear as fragile as a china doll. Crystal
watched as April picked a piece of lint off Luke's sleeve. Crystal
groaned inwardly. They made a striking couple.

But why should it matter to her? He was as stubborn as a mule,
with a reputation that preceded him. Carmen had told her that
half the girls in the territory were after him. But it appeared to
Crystal that he had just one girl in mind.

Her wandering mind was brought back to the present. Bill
talked about loving your neighbors as yourself and putting their
needs above your own. Crystal thought he was so sincere and
genuine, but from the way he looked at her, she was afraid he was
starting to get ideas about her. He ended by reminding them of
the church bazaar, whose proceeds would go for a much-needed
organ.

Crystal followed Emily out to where her father was waiting in
the wagon for Sara and Beth. Presently they loaded up, and with
a wave to Kate and Rusty, Charles flicked the reins over the horse's
rump. The horses set out in a trot across a field of wildflowers, and
the ride was filled with laughter with Crystal's new friends.

Jube stood with his hat in his hands and stared after them.
Luke led the horses by the reins but stopped short, noticing Jube's
wistful look.

"Somethin' wrong?"

Jube's face flushed pink. "Naw ... Emily's right purty, ain't
she?"

Luke forced himself to keep from laughing, knowing how sensitive Jube was. Now he was beginning to get the picture. Quiet
Jube was sweet on shy Emily.

"She shore is. Does she know how you feel, Jube?"

"I kinda think she might. I'm not much with words.. "

"Better let her know. You could lose her to that new preacher
man."

"Aw, I don't think so. Besides, Bill has his eye on Crystal."

Luke's head swung around, eyebrows cocked, surprised at Jube's
observation. "Well, he can shore enough have her. That little spitfire spells trouble. 'Course, I can't see her making a good preacher's
wife-she's too mouthy."

Crystal tried not to act surprised when Charles stopped the
wagon before a crude structure, which was partially in the ground
and appeared to be made out of mud. As Charles helped the womenfolk down, he explained that their home was a sod house.

"Come on in. You'll find this is the coolest house in the valley,"
Sara commented with pride in her voice.

To her amazement, upon entering the homey interior, Crystal
found it refreshing and cool. The inside of the soddy was plastered
with pink clay.

"However in the world did you build this?" she asked as Beth
took her hat and gloves.

"We got the clay from the banks of dry streambeds, and we
cut the sod with a plow in long slabs for walls. It looks a little
primitive, but it's cool in the summer and warm in the winter,"
Charles said in a heavy northern accent. He showed her into the
kitchen, where Emily and Sara had already donned aprons and now proceeded to heat up their lunch, which had been prepared
earlier that morning.

Crystal turned to where Sara was busy stirring gravy in a heavy
iron skillet. "Can I help do something?"

"You are our guest. Just have a seat at the table, and we'll
have dinner ready in no time," Sara said over her shoulder. "The
preacher should be here any minute. He looked like he's in need
of some home cooking." She laughed good-naturedly.

Beth set the table with rose-patterned dishes that were now
well-worn and chipped. Crystal was sure the frayed linen napkins once graced a beautiful table back East. The entire scene
touched a cord in Crystal's heart as she observed the family's
humble home and their pride in farming in this wild territory.

Before too long, the rawboned preacher arrived and apologized that he had kept them waiting. Sara directed him to a chair
next to Emily and said, "Emily has been keeping an eye out for
you." Sara cast a meaningful look in Charles's direction, which
the reverend ignored.

Emily stared down at her hands in her lap. Crystal was sure
that Emily's thoughts had not been on Bill Alden.

Lunch consisted of steak and gravy, boiled potatoes, biscuits
the size of a man's fist, and rhubarb pie for dessert. Throughout
the meal, Emily quizzed Crystal about the South, and even Beth
seemed to warm to Crystal's friendliness. Crystal told them of
the special lushness of the trees and its many varieties of flowers, and Georgia's hazy mornings and high humidity.

"Must be the reason for your creamy complexion. I declare,
this dry weather is so rough on skin;' Sara commented.

Bill Alden hardly took his eyes off Crystal the entire meal, and
later, over coffee, he told her he had promised Kate to bring her
home on his way back. Crystal would have sooner walked but
saw no tactful way to reject his offer.

She enjoyed her afternoon spent with the easygoing Johnsons,
and the ride back to the ranch was not altogether unpleasant.
Although eloquent when sermonizing, Bill was as nervous as a
sinner on a church pew as he sat next to Crystal on the wagon.
Crystal was naturally gregarious and took no notice when he
stammered replies, which seemed to put him at ease. She could
tell he was disappointed that their ride was not longer when he
slowed down before he reached the porch. She thanked him for
the ride home and watched as he headed back down the trail and
away from the house.

Crystal turned to climb the porch steps. The lazy afternoon
was so quiet that she almost didn't notice the figure leaning back
in a chair at the end of the porch, boots propped up on the railing. It was Luke. She could tell that he was feigning sleep, his hat
covering his face to keep the flies away. Suddenly he dropped his
boots to the floor with a loud plop and stretched his long form
upright. The noise startled Crystal, and she paused, looking down
the long porch at him.

"He sure don't appear to be your type," he said.

She bristled. "And just what is my type?"

"Maybe one short enough to fit under that hat perched on your
head in case of a summer rainstorm."

She flashed him a saucy smile. "I'll have you know, this hat is
the height of fashion"

"Whose fashion?"

"You've been stuck out in this wild territory so long that you
wouldn't know fashion if it hit you in the face:"

Luke's laughter reverberated in the late afternoon stillness. "Out
here, fashion won't put a roof over your head, feed you, or clothe
you. All I need is a good meal, a warm bed, and a loyal horse."

`And likely that's all you'll ever get." She tore off her gloves and
opened the door, slamming it behind her. Crystal heard a loud rip
and realized too late that she had shut the door on her dress. She
turned back and yanked her torn dress free, exasperated.

Luke settled back down in the big rocker and once again pulled
his hat back over his face. Ah, poor sweet thing! She tries hard to
be tough. In spite of her ridiculous hats, the hot sun had painted
a pink tinge across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, making her look even more appealing. She needed to find a man who
could afford servants to attend to her. She was small and delicate,
and ranch life would never suit her.

He sighed wearily and leaned back in the rocker, and he was
soon dozing to the distant sound of a Steller's jay.

Blistering July heat settled onto the Yampa Valley, and by midafternoon, hazy vapors rose from the parched, cracked ground that
had resulted from weeks without rain. Chores had been completed
before the noonday meal. Men and women alike retired to the
nearest shade tree or porch until late afternoon, when cooler air
descended from the mountains. The rusty thermometer outside
the bunkhouse registered 100 degrees in the shade. The drovers
dragged their bedrolls outside the cramped bunkhouse to sleep
under a blanket of stars in the cool, fresh air.

After four days of the miserable heat, and despite Rusty's warning that rain might follow, Kate and Crystal began their drive into
Steamboat on a bright, cloudless day. They had promised Rusty
that they would be back before dark, and now the creaking wagon
rumbled away from the ranch house at first light in the morning,
while it was still cool.

Crystal dressed in a light cotton dress, for once without her
corset because of the heat, and Kate was in her usual garb of men's
pants, sturdy boots, and a wide-brimmed hat. Crystal had become
accustomed to getting up early and helping Carmen with morning chores. She found that she enjoyed rising once the rooster crowed.
There was a special quietness about early morning that she had
never known existed. She savored sharing her first cup of coffee
with Carmen and Kate out on the back porch, before the crew
stomped in for breakfast. Crystal was fast fitting into their way
of life without even being conscious of it.

As the two approached the edge of town, shopkeepers, already
busy with morning activities, propped open their doors to enjoy
the morning breeze. In the distance, smoke curled lazily upward
from the slanted roof of Flo's Cafe. Crystal guessed that Flo had
been up for hours preparing today's menu. Smells of frying bacon
wafted on the air, assaulting their nostrils and whetting Crystal's
appetite. A piano tune sounded from the swinging doors of the
Goldmine Saloon as Kate guided the horses down the main street
of town, trying to avoid the larger ruts. She stopped in front of
Franklin's Mercantile and called out to John Franklin, who was
sweeping the steps that led to the landing. He waved and paused
to wipe his hands on his white apron before extending assistance
to Kate and Crystal.