Renegade Most Wanted. Carol Arens
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Название: Renegade Most Wanted
Автор: Carol Arens
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
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Emma and Lucy had finished with ribbons and moved on to the bolts of fabric stacked near the window. After some discussion, Emma picked out a bolt. She carried it to the counter with Lucy trailing behind, toting a pair of ribbons and a smile.
Mr. Wright took the bolt from Emma’s arms and set it on the counter. She greeted Mrs. Sizeloff, then handed her list to the store owner. He looked it over two or three times.
“I’ve got most of the things you need. Let me just tally up the price for your husband.” He put on a pair of spectacles and reached for a pencil.
Matt approached the counter. He wasn’t concerned about the cost. He owed Emma more than a house, and he’d been able to put a fair amount away working the roundups. He could take care of Emma without touching what he had put away for Lucy.
“Before you add that up,” Emma said, “I wonder if we might do a little bartering, Mr. Wright?”
What was she up to now? Matt took a step back, curious to see what this sweet as a flower, clever as a whip woman was up to.
“What did you have in mind?” Mr. Wright slid his glasses down his nose and set the pencil on the counter.
“Dr. Coonley’s Patent Medicine. I have a full case of it. I’ll give you a bottle for every two dollars you take off that bill.”
She wanted to trade snake oil for durable goods? Who was this woman he had married? She looked like nothing less than an angel, standing there holding Lucy’s hand, smiling like sunshine and all the while selling sin in a bottle.
“No offense intended, but folks can get all the spirits they want next door at the Long Branch,” Mr. Wright said.
Emma gasped and pressed her fluttering hand against her breast.
“Mr. Wright! I’m offering you pure Orange Lilly. Why, there’s not a single harmful ingredient in it. Lands, I take it myself on a monthly basis.” Emma leaned across the counter and did that whisper of hers that carried far and wide. “Orange Lilly is for female complaints.”
“I’ll give you two dollars for it,” Mrs. Sizeloff said. “I’ve been feeling out of sorts since little Maudie was born.”
“I’ve seen that happen to some of the ladies I’ve worked for over the years. Why, they’d cry and take on for no reason at all after a birthing.” Emma touched Mrs. Sizeloff’s elbow where it cradled little Maudie. “We’re staying at Mrs. Conner’s boardinghouse tonight and we’ll be here a good part of the day tomorrow. I’ll bring a bottle by the church if you’ll be there.”
“Bless you, Mrs. Suede, that would be kind.”
“It’s not kind, really. It’s business. Orange Lilly will have you feeling better in no time and then you’ll tell your friends.”
If Emma won over Mrs. Sizeloff, the ladies in town would wear a trail to the homestead looking for healing in a bottle.
He paid Mr. Wright for the goods, then escorted Emma and Lucy out into the afternoon sunshine. It beat down on the sidewalk like a son of a gun.
“You just sold snake oil to the preacher, darlin’.” He touched a golden curl that looped alongside her cheek and drew it around his finger. She had the look of a petal blowing in the wind, but apparently she was as wily as any cowboy in Dodge. “You’re some kind of a woman.”
Emma stared after Matt while he strode toward E. C. Zimmerman’s to order the lumber and other supplies they would need to begin building her house. Had she been insulted or praised?
It was hard to tell by the question in his gaze while he stood in front of the mercantile touching her hair as if it was something special. A grin—or a smirk—had flashed across his mouth, but his eyes had sparked with admiration. If she wasn’t mistaken, silent laughter cramped his lungs.
Imagine calling pure Orange Lilly snake oil! Why, in a week or so ladies all over town would be free of the female humors plaguing them. At two dollars per humor, well, she’d just see what Matt Suede would call it then.
“Come along, Lucy. There’s nothing sweeter for ladies young and old than an afternoon respite.”
Hopefully the child would take a nap. That would give Emma an hour or so before dinner to review the list of supplies she’d need to provide for the extra people she would be caring for.
Lucy slipped her hand into Emma’s. Having just turned four years old, she still had plump baby fingers. That was one of the things Emma liked about four-year-olds. While they’d grown out of needing constant attention, the blush of babyhood still lingered about them.
The boardinghouse was still three blocks away when Lucy’s steps began to drag.
“I’m tired.” She rubbed one curled fist over her eye and yawned. A sticky smear of peppermint stick glittered on her lips and fingertips. “Would you carry me, Mama?”
Emma stooped and picked her up. She settled her on her hip. She’d done this so many times with other children that she was sure the curve of her hip had become a chair.
Lucy snuggled her head on Emma’s shoulder. The scent of sugar and peppermint made her anxious for the nice dinner at Del Monico’s that Matt had promised.
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