Chapter Two

Benjamin Kendrick waited patiently for his turn to talk to Doc Mueller. He hated coming into town, and if it weren't for picking up his sister's medicine, he wouldn't come in at all. He sat on the bench in the waiting room, his foot bouncing nervously as he twirled his hat in his hand.

There were three other people in Doc Mueller's office when he stopped to pick up Tessa's medicine. The mercury poisoning had left his sister with a childlike wonder and very little impulse control. Ben had promised their mother he would take care of Tessa, and he meant to keep his promise.

The waiting area was cramped, and the musty smell of old paper mixed with the cloying scent of pine filled his nostrils, making him want to retch. Or it could have been the scent of stale perfume and sweat coming from the woman sitting across from him.

Ben's eyes darted around the waiting room, landing on a woman with faded red hair that had been wrapped around a hot iron. Makeup caked on her skin and cracked around her eyes and lips. She wore a tight-fitting dress to accentuate her curves, and a long skirt with a slit up the side. There was no doubt about where she worked or what she did for a living.

He cleared his throat and looked away, feeling his face flush. He remembered someone else who dressed like that. Pushing unpleasant thoughts from his mind, he gave her another glance. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and he could see the faint outline of bruises along one arm. The woman seemed agitated. Her eyes darted around the room, and she kept biting her bottom lip, drawing blood. Most people would wonder what could make a woman like her so undone.

But he knew.

He had seen the same bruises on the arms of someone he loved. Ma added layer upon layer of pancaked makeup to hide the black eyes, so he recognized the technique. He'd been there when men used their fists before taking what they wanted.

It wasn't easy growing up the way they did. Ma used what little money she made to keep a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, but it was never enough. They rented a small room in the stable, and it didn't take long for Ben to figure out how Ma was paying rent.

When Tessa got sick, they lost their home, and Ma couldn't work and take care of a child whose only prospects were to turn to the same profession as Ma once she came of age. Tessa had just turned twelve and the men in town were starting to notice.

As soon as he could, Ben left with his sister. He didn't want to subject Tessa to a life of being passed from man to man. Taking odd jobs so he could support her, they eventually met a preacher who was traveling to Nebraska. It took little convincing for Ben and Tessa to join his wagon train. Ben earned their keep taking care of the livestock on the journey and at last he had someone to help with Tessa.

When the small party arrived in Flat River for supplies, he learned about a twenty-acre plot of land no one wanted. The land was unusable for anything but hunting. Tessa was tired of traveling and needed to be seen by a doctor. Ben purchased the land for twenty-five cents an acre and made his claim. The preacher left Ben with a dozen goats and a few chickens before continuing towards Omaha.

They stayed in a line shack while Tessa watched the goats during the day. Ben worked to clear the land and build a proper house. He wrote letters to his ma, hoping to bring her once the new house was complete. It took nearly two months to get a letter back, but it wasn't from Ma. Instead, it was from the livery manager where Ma had been staying, letting Ben know she had passed.

Crushing his hat beneath his fingers, he pressed the ugly memories down and turned his attention back to the woman in the waiting room. He wondered if she was one of Doc Mueller's patients or just waiting for someone. He doubted she was a patient, as he didn't think Doc would treat one of Miss Marcy's girls at his office.

Just then, the door to Doc's office creaked open and an older woman with a cane shuffled out, followed by a cowboy, only about sixteen years old. Doc stood in the doorway, rubbing his glasses with a handkerchief as he watched them leave.

"Cleo, if that cough doesn't get any better, you send Nate to fetch me. I don't want you to come to town. I'll ride out to see you."

"Sure thing, Doc. Come on, Aunt Cleo." The cowboy called Nate led his aunt towards the door as the doc disappeared back into his office.

"Next." Doc's voice boomed in the small room.

Ben stood up and walked towards the door, but the redhead beat him to it. She sauntered in, not even looking at him. Ben followed her, feeling like a fool. When he entered the office, he saw her talking to Doc Mueller in a flirtatious tone. He couldn't help but listen in.

"... and I need something to help me sleep," the redhead said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

Doc Mueller's brow furrowed as he looked at her. "What have I told you about coming here? You can go to the store and get something. There are patients here."

"I don't want to go to the store, Doc," she pleaded. "I don't want to deal with the people at the store. You know what they are like."

"Maybe you should have chosen a different profession then."

Ben was about to say something. Looking at the woman once more, Doc sighed. Doc moved to the back of his office and opened a cabinet. Taking a dark bottle, he poured some liquid into a smaller bottle and corked it before turning back to the woman. "I'll give you something. But only this once. Don't let Miss Marcy find out." The doctor handed her the bottle. "Only a small sip at bedtime."

"Thanks, Doc," the woman said, kissing his cheek as she slipped the bottle into her reticule. "What do I owe you?"

"Ten cents, then get out of here."

Ben swore he saw a blush race across the older man's cheeks. The woman gave him a slight smile as she brushed past and flounced out the door.

"What can I do for you today, Mr. Kendrick?" Doc asked, pocketing the coin.

Ben pulled a bottle out of his coat pocket. "I need a refill on Tessa's medicine."

"How's she doing?" Doc took the bottle and put it on his desk, before motioning for Ben to take a seat.

"Still the same. She has terrible headaches when she goes outside."

"Hmmm." Doc pulled a ledger from the shelf above him and opened it. Scribbling in it with a pencil, he snapped it shut and returned it to the shelf. "Maybe she shouldn't go outside."

"She can't be cooped up in the house all day."

"Then take her outside."

"Did you not hear what I said?" Ben's frustration showed in his voice. "She can't handle the sun, Doc. Every time she goes outside, she gets a crushing headache. It's like the sunlight is attacking her."

"I'm sorry, Ben." Doc shifted in his seat. "I didn't mean to upset you. We'll try something else, okay? I'll mix up something different for Tessa to try. Maybe it'll help her feel better."

Ben sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Thank you, Doc. I just feel so helpless, you know?"

"I know. You're doing the best you can for her, and that's all any of us can do. You're a good brother, Benjamin."

A small smile played at the corners of Ben's mouth. "Thanks, Doc. That means a lot."

Doc chuckled. "I'll get that medicine for Tessa right now, then you can be on your way." Making his way over to the shelf where he kept his medicines, he selected one from the back. "How's the lamb?" he asked as he retrieved a measuring cup.

"I am convinced it thinks it is a goat."

Doc gave a hearty laugh as he poured a dark liquid into the cup and put the cap back onto the bottle before replacing it on the shelf. "I'm glad you could keep it."

"I wanted to be a rancher once we arrived here. I don't know how I'm going to do that with a bunch of goats, some chickens, a rooster that is working its way towards the stew pot, and one wayward sheep." Ben shook his head, his light brown hair brushing against his forehead. He swept it aside with his fingers.

"You have a few horses."

"One is a swayback and the other two, I traded my wagon and ox for. Still doesn't make a ranch." Ben reached up and scratched his jaw. "I don't understand how you ended up with a lamb."

Doc gave a slight shrug as he poured the medicine into the bottle Ben brought with him. "Not everyone can pay me. So instead, they bring me things. Some things I can use, other things I can't."

"Like the lamb?"

"Like the lamb. Cleo, the woman who just left; she makes the best sour pickles. I'd take a jar of those any day." Ben saw the older man's face soften as he mentioned the woman with the cough. He wondered if Doc was sweet on her. Before Ben could contemplate any more about it, Doc continued. "Now if it was a suckling pig, I'd have given it to Weston to fatten and butcher for me. I wouldn't do that with a lamb."

"Tessa loves that animal. She even gave it a name."

"Did she now?"

"She calls it Marigold, on account of that's all it would eat. She's even trying to convince me to bring it in the house this winter."

Snorting, Doc capped the bottle and returned to this desk. "Your sister is very loving."

"Do you think she'll get better?"

"I don't know. Anything is possible. Pray she doesn't lose her child-like wonder even if she gets better." Doc handed Ben the bottle.

"Thanks, Doc. What do I owe you?"

The doctor waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Just keep an eye on her and let me know how she does with it. Just a teaspoon at breakfast time. Don't let her take it on an empty stomach."

"If you don't let anyone pay you, that's how you end up with lambs or chickens or suckling pigs. However, if you end up with a calf or a horse, let me know."

Doc's laughter filled the small office as Ben put a couple of coins on the desk and stood to leave, bottle in hand. He was thankful for Doc's help. Leaving the office, Ben wanted to head back to the ranch and check on Tessa, but he had to go to the mercantile first and pick up some supplies. His sister would be fine for a little bit longer.

As he stepped through the doors of the little store, the chime of the bell was almost inaudible amid the clamor of voices. He hadn't expected to see so many people in such a small town as Flat River, yet here they were, all huddled around the counter.

He weaved through the throng of people, searching for any clues about what was taking place. Laughter broke out as the crowd parted, revealing a mountain man dressed from head to toe in buckskins. Every inch of the person was covered in dirt, and on top of his head was what Ben could only identify as some type of rodent.

"That jackrabbit didn't have a chance," the man said. Ben nearly dropped Tessa's medicine.

That wasn't a man!

He had never seen a woman dressed up like that before. Men gathered around her, admiring the rifle she carried and looking at the rabbit pelts lined up on the counter.

"I wish I could get my hands on that young lady," a voice murmured behind his back. "She needs a hot bath, and those clothes need to be burned."

Ben turned and looked at the woman standing behind him. Ingrid Chapman stood near the pickle barrel, tugging off her gloves. Marmee, as she insisted everyone address her, held strong opinions on how women should dress and behave. While she believed in independence, she still felt a woman needed to look and act appropriately.

"Mrs. Chapman," Ben said, tilting his hat. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone like her."

Marmee gave a little snort. "That's because there is only one Petunia Beale. For that, I'm extremely grateful. Delightful as she is, there are some things she could improve upon." She stuffed her gloves in her pockets without taking her eyes off Ben. "How's your sister?"

That was one thing Ben appreciated about Marmee. She was direct and to the point.

"Tessa's good. I just came into town to pick up a few things."

"Did she come with you?"

Ben shook his head. "I didn't want to risk her getting caught in the rain that's threatening to come."

"That's probably a good choice. How long have you been in Flat River now, Mr. Kendrick?"

"We arrived in early spring. Just enough time to build a house."

"Hmm. Few people even know you are out there."

"I like it that way."

Her sharp eyes glanced around the store. "Winter is coming soon."

Ben was unsure of the purpose of her conversation, but he knew she didn't waste time with unnecessary details. "It is."

"That's why most of these people are here. Giving their supply orders to Rose or Dillon. It takes a few weeks for the wagons to get here from Missouri." She snapped her eyes back to Ben, and he shifted like a schoolboy standing in front of a teacher. "Winters out here are cold."

Ben rubbed his jaw and looked at the small matriarch. "So, I've heard."

"And lonely."

His lips twitched. "I thought you were married, Mrs. Chapman."

Marmee looked at him with enormous eyes and then laughed. "You silly goose. I'm not talking about me. You should get married before winter."

"And why would I do that? I have enough trouble already."

"I heard about the horse thieves."

"We got them back. That's what counts."

"What other kinds of trouble do you have?"

"I'm not one for talking about those kinds of things with a woman."

"Taking care of Tessa? Goats that keep getting out of the fences? A sheep that keeps making its way inside by the fireplace?" Ben lifted his eyebrows in surprise. Marmee gave another lyrical laugh. "I know most of what goes on in this town. A helpmate might be just what you need." She waved her hand around the store. "I've helped several couples find their matches and I can help you find one, too."

"What's in it for you?" No one did anything without getting something in return.

"I want to watch Flat River flourish with honest, hard-working individuals who have integrity and compassion. I aspire to create a town where my grandchildren can grow up and thrive." She gave him a little smile. "I enjoy seeing couples fall in love."

His eyes glanced over at the woman lifting the rabbit pelt off the counter and onto a scale. "As long as you promise me it won't be anyone who wears an animal on top of her head."

Marmee chuckled. "I can promise you that. I've already matched her. She just doesn't know it yet."

"The poor soul," Ben murmured.

"He doesn't know it either." Giving a wave to the shopkeeper's wife behind the counter, Ingrid took a step forward. "I'll be in touch. Tell your sister hello, and I'll pray she feels better soon."

As Ben waited for his turn to have his supply list filled, he noticed a dark-haired figure standing by a display of colorful pre-made dresses. She was petite and slender, but he couldn't see her features because of a thick braid covering half her face. Despite that, he could tell by her figure she was a beautiful woman. She reminded him of someone he had seen before, but he couldn't place her.

She took a dress off the display and held it up to her, swaying side to side as the fabric swished around her legs. She must have sensed him watching her, as she abruptly paused and turned his way. Flipping the braid over her shoulder, she peered at him with warm chestnut eyes outlined by lush, dark fringe. The corners of her lips turned up in a slight smile as she hung the dress back on the rack and moved towards a display of women's toiletries on the counter. She lifted a bottle and took a delicate sniff.

Swallowing hard, Ben recognized the woman. She was one of the trackers who showed up at his ranch when the marshal's daughter went missing in the field. Ben remembered she was reserved and not very talkative, but he observed her keen tracking ability as they chased after the men who had stolen his horses.

He scoffed at her buckskin pants and long tunic. Did everyone here dress the same? The last time he saw her, she wore a skirt, but now she dressed like the other woman at the counter. At least he should be grateful this woman didn't have an animal sitting on top of her head. He watched as her fingers reached up to play with the braid she pulled back over her shoulder.

The two women were as different as night and day. Even though they both appeared to be hill people, and wearing clothes made from deer hide, Marmee was right, Petunia needed a bath and to be scrubbed. The other woman had beautiful porcelain skin that was rosy from the cold weather. Her clothes were clean, and she'd brushed her hair before braiding it.

Ben took a moment to stare a little longer. This woman was beautiful. Completely different from the women he had seen in Texas. Even the women that did wear pants didn't wear them like this woman in front of him.

For some reason, he found himself drawn to her. Shaking his head, he tried to dismiss all thoughts of the woman from his head. Between Tessa and taking care of his small ranch, he had enough to worry about. He didn't need the added complication of a woman, especially not someone he barely knew. He had practically given Marmee permission to find him a helpmate, but now he was regretting it.

As he stepped forward to give his list to Dillon Arden, he couldn't help but glance at the woman one last time. To his surprise, she was looking back at him with a small smile. He spun away, feeling his cheeks warm with embarrassment.

As Ben watched Dillon tally up his purchase, he couldn't help but notice Tommy Moore standing at the corner with a frown on his face. Tommy was a local trapper and fur trader who sometimes hunted on Ben's land. His family had been in Flat River since one of the first wagon trains rolled into the town. Following Tommy's eyes over to the mountain woman, Ben couldn't help but chuckle.

Ben didn't like many people, but he did like Tommy. The woman with the thick braid walked over and whispered something to Tommy before heading to the front of the store. Making her way through the crowd, she passed barrels of apples and crackers and eventually ended up by the register where Ben was standing.

"Pardon me," she mumbled, accidentally touching his arm as she walked by. Closing his eyes for a moment, he savored the scent of wildflowers and falling rain mixed with soft leather that filled his nostrils.

"Hey, Kendrick."

Ben opened his eyes to see Tommy had moved up next to the register.

"Tommy."

"Was thinking I might stop by and put out the beaver traps near the pond over the next week if you are okay with it? With the rain we are getting there might be some flooding."

"Sure. I'll let Tessa know in case she sees you out there."

"Appreciate it." Tommy's eyes narrowed as he looked at Petunia again.

Ben turned around to see a man move closer to the uniquely dressed woman and flip the racoon tail. In a flash, Petunia had taken the man by the arm and pushed him to the counter. She leaned closer and hissed in his ear before releasing him. The man nursed his injured arm and made a beeline for the exit, while Petunia resumed weighing her furs as if she hadn't been interrupted.

"I've never seen anything like that before," Ben mused.

"Yeah," Tommy shrugged. "Not many people ever seen nobody dressed quite like that, either. I suppose if she can shoot a jackrabbit and skin it, she's got my respect."

Ben nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I reckon so."

"Anything else today?" Dillon asked, tallying up Ben's purchases.

"I can't think of anything else. When is the next supply wagon in town?"

Dillon looked at the calendar displayed on the wall. "Should arrive in the next two weeks."

"Do you think I can pay to have someone bring my order out to the ranch?"

"I can arrange that at the livery."

"Appreciate it. It will save me another ride to town." Ben placed some bills on the counter. "Is that enough?"

"Let me get you some change."

Pocketing his change, Ben picked up his purchases and stepped out of the mercantile. As he stepped into the hustle and bustle of the town, he couldn't help but feel like an outsider. He was a man of few words and even fewer friends, but he was content with his simple way of life on the ranch with Tessa and their animals.

Sometimes it was lonely, but that was the choice he made when he took responsibility for his sister. He recalled what Marmee said about cold winters and a helpmate, and his thoughts drifted back to the pretty brunette. He wondered how old she was, then dismissed the notion once more.

Glancing up at the sky, he could see dark clouds forming in the distance. He felt a chill creep up his spine, and it wasn't just the cold, forbidding clouds that marked the onset of winter. Deep in his gut, he knew something was not right. He had a sense, a feeling something was about to go terribly wrong, and it wasn't just the bad weather. He had learned to trust his instincts over the years, and he knew he had to act fast.

Tessa was on her own, and he needed to get back before the storm rolled in. Quickly packing his purchases into his saddlebags, he detached his steed, then hoisted himself onto the saddle. Prodding the horse's side with his heel, he bowed his head, hoping he'd beat the rain home.