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Chapter Two

Flat River, Nebraska

Rexford Hartman shook off the chill as he followed his brother, Baxter, and six of the eight Beale children into the mercantile. The bell above the door jingled softly above Rex as the door closed behind him. Every time he stepped into the shop, the aroma of tobacco blended with spices and beeswax captivated him. Today, they were mixed with notes of fresh brewed coffee.

The Beale children scattered to different corners of the shop and Rex watched his brother try to gather them together. Chuckling, Rex was pleased to see his brother so bonded to the group of youngsters.

Baxter had fallen in love with Midge Beale, the young woman down the road. She had been trying to take care of her eight siblings alone and resorted to stealing chickens from the Hartman farm. He followed her home one night and after seeing the condition of the house and the starving faces of the children, Baxter made it his personal mission to provide for them.

Rex wondered what it would be like to have someone look at him, the same way Midge looked at Baxter. Whit, the youngest of his brothers, sat near the pot-belly stove just inside the entrance. He was sipping on a cup of coffee and appeared to be having an intense conversation with a young woman. Rex greeted Whit with a wave and made his way towards the counter where Dillon Arden stood, meticulously cleaning a pair of spectacles.

“Morning, Rex,” Dillon greeted with a smile, wrapping the spectacles back around his ears. “What can I do for you today?”

Rex reached into his pocket and pulled out a list scrawled on a piece of crumpled paper. “Just a few essentials. I told Annamae I’d pick up some supplies for her,” he replied, handing over the note.

“I thought I saw them walking over to the doctors,” Rose mentioned as she pushed her way behind her husband towards the counter where Baxter was talking to the children in hushed tones.

Rex furrowed his brow. “She didn’t mention coming to town today.” He gave a little shrug. “I was supposed to come earlier this week, but I couldn’t get away.”

“Rex! Come over here,” a voice called excitedly through the store.

Rex turned but didn’t see Petunia. “Did you move your rifle display?” Baxter and Rex had been teaching her how to hunt, and Pet mentioned on the way over that she wanted to look at the hunting rifles.

“It’s behind the fabrics.” Dillon pointed with the paper. “We got a new shipment in, and I had to make a larger rack for them.”

“Rex!” Petunia’s voice called again.

“I’ll get this ready for you,” Dillon said. “I already have your brother’s list.”

“Thanks.” Rex tugged off his glove with his teeth and shoved it in his pocket. He was removing the second one as he approached Petunia. He noticed she couldn’t take her eyes off the array of sleek, gunmetal gray barrels with their engraved plates and polished wooden stocks.

“You’re drooling,” he teased. He wrinkled his nose as he stopped next to her, and delicately maneuvered himself to the other side, where his senses were less likely to take offense. Petunia was not like the other girls in Flat River. At fifteen years old, she preferred to wear buckskins instead of dresses. She had cut her hair short and was wearing a raccoon on top of her head. Its beady eyes stared blankly at Rex as if daring him to say something.

Despite her faults, Rex learned Pet had an enormous heart and was eager to learn. He loaned her some traps and showed her how to set them down by the creek. Now she wanted to learn how to shoot.

“Whatcha got, Pet?”

“Ain’t it pretty?” She gently handled the wooden stock and traced her fingers along the cold steel barrel, releasing a soft cooing sound.

“I’ve never seen one like it,” Rex said. He lifted the small white tag tied to the lever. “Winchester. Holds 15 rounds.” Letting out a low whistle, he dropped the tag. “That’s out of my price range.”

“How much is it?” Petunia picked up the tag. “What does it say?”

“It’s fifty dollars, Pet.”

Pet dropped the tag as if it burned her fingers. “Fifty dollars?” she yelped.

“Hush.” He looked around the shop and glanced out the window. The stagecoach was pulling in front of the mercantile. “You don’t need a fifty-dollar rifle. No one does. It only takes one round to take down a deer if you know what you are doing.”

She lifted her eyebrows and looked at him, her mouth forming a small oval. “So, ya think I should get a single shot?” She reached for a worn hunting rifle at the end of the rack. “What about this one?”

“That’s old Army stock. After the war, they had all these surplus rifles, so I’m not surprised to see a few of those floating around. What does the tag say?”

Petunia picked up the tag and ran her thumb over the dark words. “Fifty dollars?” she said expectantly.

“Let me see that,” Rex said. “It says Springfield 1870, trapdoor.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you can’t read.”

“I don’t need to read to hunt.”

“But you need to read to sell your furs. I’ll talk to Annie and see if she has some of Ma’s old learning books.”

“What’s a trapdoor?” Petunia took the rifle from the display.

“It’s the opening at the back, where you put the cartridge in. The hammer causes it to shoot out of the barrel.”

“So, how much is it?”

“Ten dollars.”

“Why so cheap?”

“Probably because there are a lot of them.” He handed the rifle back to Petunia, who continued to coo over the firearm. The sound of the door opening caught his attention as the wind pushed two travelers inside.

The small bell above the door rang as the strangers entered the store. A layer of dust covered them from their journey, and the woman was visibly shivering from the cold.

Rex observed them from where he stood, noting the weariness etched into their features. The woman’s pale, trembling hands clutched her thin shawl, while her cheeks flushed with red. Her worn dress was threadbare in spots, and her hair was messy and tangled from the long journey. She held her bonnet in her other hand and Rex could see that it only had one ribbon. The other must have broken during the journey.

The man beside her was tall and rugged, his eyes scanning the shop with a keen intensity. The woman’s gaze wandered around the store, taking in every item with a mix of curiosity and exhaustion. Her eyes widened as they landed on Pet, and she whispered to her companion.

“Excuse me, Petunia.” Rex gently touched her shoulder and walked toward the front of the store to greet the newcomers. While walking through the store, the woman’s fiery red hair captured his attention. It seemed to glow in the dim lighting.

He had never seen hair that color before! He had the urge to run his fingers through the tangled mess and smooth out the knots.

She reached up with shaking fingers to brush a few strands away from her cheeks. Her eyes glanced around and stopped briefly on Rex before quickly moving to look at the floor. He wasn’t sure if the blush on her cheeks was from the cold or if it was because he caught her staring. He cleared his throat and put on his most charming smile, attempting to ignore the unsettling feeling that stirred within him.

Extending a hand towards the man, Rex offered a smile. “Welcome to Flat River. I’m Rex Hartman. We don’t get too many strangers around these parts,” Rex drawled, leaning back against a display strewn with leather bridles and horse liniment. “Especially ones that look none too pleased to be here.”

The man stiffened, his hand twitching at his side; the sign of someone that was used to pulling a sidearm if necessary. Not seeing the bulge of a gun belt underneath the man’s coat, Rex knew the man was unarmed. He wasn’t worried about the stranger right now.

“We’re just passing through,” the man said.

“Passing through to where?” Rex pressed, pulling his arm back, his posture unyielding. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and looked at the young couple.

“North,” the man snapped, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice.

“North,” Rex echoed, an eyebrow arching skeptically.

The man hesitated for a moment before relaxing slightly. “Forgive my rudeness. I’m George Youngerman. This here is my sister, Tillie,” he said, gesturing towards the woman beside him. The woman lifted her head, her emerald eyes briefly meeting his, and he could see a spark of defiance in her eyes.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Rex said with a polite smile. “Can I help you folks with something?” He glanced over his shoulder. “It looks like Dillon is busy at the moment.”

George Youngerman stepped forward, craning his neck to look over Rex’s shoulders. “As I said, we’re just passing through. I need to get a few supplies before we continue north.”

“Of course, The Aldens have an excellent selection of items here,” Rex gestured towards the shelves filled with various goods.

Tillie placed a gloved hand on her brother’s arm. Her teeth chattered as she attempted to speak. “W-w-we’re looking for our brother, a Mr. Youngerman.”

Rex noticed her lips were blue around the edges. It must have been freezing on the ride. Why didn’t they use one of the heavy covers? He scratched his cheek. “Can’t say I know anyone by that name in town. But I think you need to get warm before you do anything else. You plan on staying here, or just passing through?”

“We are just stopping in the towns to find our brother. We’ll go wherever the stage goes next.” Turning, she coughed into her glove.

“Hush, Matilda. You don’t need to bore this stranger with where we are going.”

“It’s no mind.” Rex reached over her shoulder to the enamel cups hanging on wooden pegs near the windowsill. “How about a cup of coffee?” he said softly. “That cough sounds like it could turn into something terrible if you don’t get warm.”

Tillie turned to him with a smile, revealing a set of perfectly straight and white teeth. “The air was rather cold on the ride from Grand Platte. I’d like that, thank…”

“We don’t have any money for coffee, Tillie. Just sit by the fire and let me get a few provisions for the next leg of the trip. I don’t want to be beholden to that woman who was riding with us.”

“There’s no charge for the coffee. The Aldens always keep a pot on.”

“Then I will have a cup,” George said, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

Rex gave Tillie a smile. “I don’t know how long this has been here. It may have been brewing all day.”

“It’s fresh. Esther just made it,” Whit said, rising. “Please sit down. This is closer to the fire.”

“Thank you.” Tillie placed a shaky hand on Whit’s arm while she maneuvered around the stove to the vacated seat.

Rex’s heart pounded with conflicting emotions as he watched his brother offer a seat to Tillie. The way her fingers lingered on the crook of Whit’s elbow made Rex burn with jealousy. But as he observed his brother’s genuine smile and welcoming gaze towards Tillie, Rex couldn’t help but feel guilty for his envy. He didn’t know this woman, and neither did Whit. But there was something about this mysterious woman with fiery red hair and green eyes that had captured both his and Whit’s attention.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one that noticed it either. Esther Billings shifted uncomfortably on the bench before clearing her throat. It took a moment for her to compose herself before asking, “I hope you aren’t staying long, Miss Youngerman.” A hint of disapproval tinged her voice, along with something else.

Was that jealousy?Rex thought.

Tillie’s eyes flickered with annoyance. She reached out her gloved hands towards the fire. “We won’t overstay our welcome.”

He couldn’t help but notice the tension in the room as the atmosphere grew heavy with unspoken words. Esther opened her mouth.

“Esther,” Whit growled in low warning.

Rex had never heard his brother speak like that. Filling the cup in his hand, he handed it to George, who murmured his thanks before wandering over to browse through a collection of items on the shelves.

“What?” Esther said, adjusting her skirt so it wasn’t close to the stove. “It isn’t like there is any place for them to stay. Unless you want to stick them in the room at the livery?” She sounded hopeful for a minute.

Rex’s muscles tightened as he observed the tense atmosphere in the room. Whit leaned in close to Esther, whispering something that made her stiffen. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she abruptly stood up, storming past Whit and out the door. He grabbed his dusty cowboy hat from a hook and hurried after her.

“I hope I didn’t upset her,” Tillie said.

Rex turned his attention back to Tillie, who was gently blowing on her coffee. “You did nothing to upset her,” Rex said finally, pulling up a chair beside Tillie. “Esther can be prickly sometimes.” His eyes flicking towards the door where Whit and Esther had just exited. “It’s nothing you said or did.” He fumbled with the edge of his hat, suddenly feeling self-conscious under the scrutiny of those piercing green eyes.

“I guess it doesn’t matter since I’m just passing through.” Tillie leaned back on the bench, cradling the coffee cup in her hands. “Thank you for the coffee. And for your kindness, Mr. Hartman.”

“Please, call me Rex,” he replied, feeling a strange sense of comfort in her presence. “And it’s no trouble at all, Tillie. We look out for each other around these parts.”

“I appreciate it, Rex,” Tillie said. Her emerald eyes met his, and he felt something stir within him that he couldn’t quite place. He flashed a rare smile at her, feeling a warmth spread through him at the sound of his name on her lips.

He cleared his throat, breaking the flirtatious silence that had settled between them. “You mentioned you were looking for your brother? You think he might be up this way?”

“Yes. Last we heard; he was part of a cattle drive headed this direction.”

Rex scratched his cheek. “Cattle drive? Only drive I know about was Caleb Chapman bringing a bunch of longhorns from Texas up this way.”

“Oh, I wonder if he was part of that?”

“I don’t know many of the cowboys over there, but I can ask Marmee the next time I see her.”

“Marmee?”

“She knows everyone in town.”

“Hmmm. Thank you.”

Rex’s lips turned up slightly, revealing a shy dimple. “Are you going to tell me his name?” he asked teasingly.

“Oh,” Tillie laughed, the sound going right to his heart. “Sawyer. Sawyer Youngerman.”

Rex shook his head. “Don’t recognize that name, but we have a Sawyer here in town. I know he came on that cattle drive north.”

“You do?” Tillie’s eyes lit up for a moment, then dimmed. “I don’t want to get my hopes up, but maybe I’ll have a word with him and see if he knows my brother.” She placed her empty mug down on the bench. “Do you know where I might find him?”

Rex nodded. “He’s right over there,” he said, pointing to the crowd of people gathered around a glass display case. “He’s married to my sister.”

As Tillie moved around the barrels of crackers and apples towards the gathering, Rex couldn’t contain his excitement. If Sawyer had any clues about Tillie’s brother, that meant she might stay in Flat River for a while. He grinned to himself and made a note to talk to Baxter later. With his experience courting, his brother would know exactly how long it would take for Rex to woo Tillie.

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