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  After dropping a stool on the ground, the conductor opened the door. The two miners who had gotten on her nerves since they boarded the stage in Sonora offered her quick, but not overly sincere, apologies as they pushed their way in front of her and jumped out of the coach.

  The remaining passenger, who had acted like a true gentleman, motioned for her and her boys to precede him. Cole needed no additional encouragement. He scooted out the door before Lydia could give him any instructions.

  She climbed out and took Will by the hand as he jumped to the ground. Her belongings on the ground, she wrapped her arms around the shoulders of each of her sons and turned to where she knew her sister waited for her. As much as she dreaded it, the time for her reunion with Dorcas and her brood had arrived.

  Her first glance at the expression on Dorcas’s face told Lydia the experience of moving to California had not sweetened her sister’s disposition.

  Her lips pursed and her chin held high Dorcas approached her. Her children followed her like baby ducks behind the mama leading them to a pond.

  “Hello, Lydia. I see you have arrived safely. I trust you are well.”

  “Hello, Dorcas. We are as well as can be expected after our journey.”

  Dorcas sniffed. “Quit sniveling, Lydia. It does not become you. I have made the journey myself. Nothing to engender any sympathy over. As soon as you gather up your belongings, we will proceed to the house.”

  Lydia suppressed a sigh. She leaned over and spoke softly to Cole and Will, instructing them to each grab a handle on the trunk. She picked up her valise and slung the tow sack over her shoulder. “We're ready, Dorcas.”

  Dorcas raised an eyebrow. “Is that all you brought? Surely, you did not intend for me to provide everything for you.”

  “I have some other crates and two barrels of my things coming. Race helped me arrange to have them shipped here by wagon later. As you may recall, Dorcas, most of the household goods where we lived were not mine. They belonged to the Braun family before I ever married Horace. However, once what belongings I do own arrive, I should have sufficient bedding and dishware for all of us.”

  “It is certainly good that the weather is nice, since I will be scrambling to find enough beds for your family, along with mine. Thankfully, you won't need many blankets. Come along, then. We have a couple of blocks to walk.”

  “Mama, this trunk is too heavy. Do we have to carry it much farther?”

  Before Lydia could respond, Dorcas answered with a sniff. “I see you have spoiled your sons by not teaching them how to work.”

  Lydia bit her lip to keep from lashing back. Although she had dared to push only so much, one of the points of contention between her and Horace had been the degree to which he had insisted the boys work from the time they arose until they finished after-supper chores. He had allowed them little playtime.

  Eddie, the oldest of Dorcas's boys, stepped toward Will. He turned to his mother. “Mama, would it be all right if I help Cole carry the trunk?”

  “That would be agreeable, Eddie. You have my permission to help your cousin.”

  Lydia smiled at her young nephew. “Thank you, Eddie. My boys have endured a long journey, as I'm sure you remember since you traveled the same route just a few years ago. I know they appreciate your help.” From the look of friendship that passed between the two boys, she felt confident that her sons would be able to enjoy the company of their cousins as long as they stayed clear of the wrath of their aunt.

  One of the twins spoke up. “Except Papa met us when we got off the ship in San Francisco. He hired people to carry our luggage for us.”

  Her voice sharp, Dorcas turned to her oldest daughter. “That's enough, Charlotte. We don't need to share the details of when we traveled to Colombia.”

  Lydia watched the knowing look that passed between the two girls. She wondered if the twins were still as much of a handful as she recalled them being.

  After they turned the corner, Dorcas began detailing some of her expectations.

  As she did so, she puckered her lips in the sucking-sour-lemons expression Lydia remembered only too well.

  “You must understand, this is not a holiday for you and your children, Lydia. I will expect you to stay busy. Since you have temporarily moved in with me, there is plenty of housework to do. My girls will show you what needs to be done. I spend most of my day teaching school from nine in the morning until mid-afternoon. I am a busy woman. Of course, you will take care of all your own laundry and the room where you and your sons will stay.”

  “Of course, Dorcas. I fully expected to take care of my family and share in the chores for the household.”

  Dorcas sniffed. “I’m glad we’re clear about that. In addition, I will expect your boys to attend school, even though I realize you may not have the funds to pay for their education at this time. You must understand, that needs to change shortly. I will be introducing you to several of the better—and I use that word loosely, considering who is available in this town—gentlemen who might be suitable as husbands for you. As long as you do not dawdle about it, I'll allow you to make your own choice of whom to marry. However, make no mistake about it—you need to find someone to provide for you and your sons. Whomever you marry must also understand he is expected to pay me for their school expenses.”

  As she followed her sister, Lydia felt her heart sink within her. The situation with Dorcas was developing just as she had feared. She was not welcome. Dorcas did not want to be bothered helping her and her boys start a new life now that she no longer had Horace to provide for her.

  Lydia knew that Dorcas restrained herself while they walked along a public street. She shivered at the thought of what she might have to face once they arrived at the Thompson home and, once within her sister’s walls, Dorcas turned on her. She felt she had traded one form of unyielding servitude for another.

  Chapter 10

  Friday, May 26, 1854

  W aking up with a recollection of what took place the morning before, Kendrick decided to take no chances he would be caught half-dressed again. He threw aside his covers and placed his feet on the new braided rag rug next to his bed. The first thought that crossed his mind was, if he had known how nice it was to have a rug under his feet, he would have bought one long before.

  He reached for both his shirt and his pants and yanked them off their pegs. After pulling on his wool stockings, he finished dressing himself and rolled his braces in place over his shoulders and across his back. As he tied the laces on his boots, he looked over at Madeline, still soundly asleep in her crib which he had wedged between his dressing table and the wall that separated his bedroom from the kitchen.

  The mattress for the basket had been too small for the crib, so he also bought a new tick filled with goose down and feathers for her to sleep on. In addition, he protected those feathers with a small piece of oilcloth and wrapped a wool blanket around the works, being careful to tuck it tightly around the edges of the mattress to hold it in place. Evidently, it was comfortable enough, because once he put her to bed after a last serving of goat’s milk far later in the evening than he had wanted to stay awake, he had not heard a peep out of her for the rest of the night.

  Kendrick tip-toed out of the room to avoid causing the floorboards to creak—a task made easier by the carpet under his feet—and stepped outside. He began his morning chores, starting with the chickens. Waggles greeted him so loudly when he arrived to milk her, he feared the bleating might wake up Madeline. Next, remembering the difficulties with getting the baby ready the day before with barely enough water to wet a rag, he filled two buckets with water, one of which he used to refill the pitcher on the dressing table. Ah, the luxury of having enough buckets to do the job.

  After studying the low level of water in the rain barrel, Kendrick eyed the sky to the west. He searched for any sign of rain. Unfortunately, the end of this May was shaping up to be like the ones he had known the last couple of years. The weather, pleasantly cool
, promised no immediate moisture. They might get one or two freak warm rainstorms blowing up from the equator during early summer, but probably not enough to do the town much good. Within a week or so, he would be forced to start making the block-long trip to Main Street to draw his water from the community cistern. Before the rainy season began in the fall, he did need to invest in more rain collection barrels.

  Fortunately, the mercantile carried a good supply of the Pears Soap like the see-through bar that had come in her supplies. Madeline seemed to need a lot of that, too.

  Kendrick glanced in the direction of the black oak tree and fence separating his property from the Thompsons’. If it all possible, he hoped to avoid another sneak attack from the twins by being prepared for them. Then again, they were probably busy visiting with their aunt and cousins who had arrived on the stagecoach the day before. Whether they came over to help with Madeline or not, he felt more confident about handling both her and his business situation today. Even though it took far more time than what he thought it should, he could get her dressed and fed. Although his customers might need to wait a little longer than they were accustomed to, once he was ready to open his shop, he would roll the crib into the front with him while he conducted business. When it was time to make his deliveries, Mrs. Arnold at the Eagle Cottage had already told him she thought Madeline was a delight and she was happy to watch the baby for the time it took him to deliver his meat.

  Kendrick entered his kitchen and softly closed the door behind him. He peeked into his bedroom long enough to see that Madeline still slept. He set his wire basket of eggs and the bucket of milk on the table. He brought in both filled water buckets, set them on the counter by the dry sink, and then dipped enough water to fill a bowl so he could wash off his eggs. After drying them, he placed them back in the wire basket and put them on his counter in the butcher shop. He sighed with satisfaction.

  Kendrick no sooner returned to his kitchen when he heard a knock on the door. As he walked toward it, he listened to Madeline grunt and coo in the bedroom.

  Charlotte and Caroline, neither waiting for an invitation, pushed their way into his house.

  Caroline spoke first. “Good morning, Mr. Denham. I see Madeline is awake.”

  Thanks to your knock.

  Charlotte did not wait for the answer. She entered the back bedroom. “Time for you to get up, Madeline. We've got a lot to do so your papa can open his shop on time.”

  Papa? Kendrick felt a shiver run through him. Yes, from the time the sheriff showed up in his shop two days before, the allegation had been made that he was the father of this baby. However, he had not honestly thought of himself as her papa. Although he was starting to accept that she was his to take care of, at least for the time being, it filled him with a sense of wonder that he might now be a papa.

  His hands on his hips, Kendrick addressed the girls, both of whom stood at the side of Madeline’s crib. “Just why are you concerned about what time I open my shop for business?”

  Caroline turned toward him wearing one of her winning smiles. “Please feel free to go about fixing your breakfast, Mr. Denham. We’ll take care of Madeline. Oh, and don't worry about food for us. Our Aunt Lydia made breakfast this morning for everyone.”

  Charlotte snorted. “It's not as if Aunt Lydia had much choice in the matter. Mama shook her awake before the sun even rose and told her that—” her voice took on a mocking tone. “—it was the least she could do so that Mama would have more time to prepare her lessons.”

  With a thoughtful expression on her face, Caroline nodded in agreement. “We found that rather strange, since Mama never needed time to prepare her lessons before Aunt Lydia came.” She turned to her sister. “I want to pick out Madeline's outfit. She needs to look especially cute today.”

  Kendrick raised an eyebrow. Madeline always looked cute, but she needed to look especially cute today? Why?

  “Fine. But I get to change her diaper. I like how she giggles when we tickle her tummy.”

  Caroline stamped her foot. “You weren't so eager to change her bottom when she filled her diapers yesterday.”

  One hand balancing Madeline on her hip and the other fisted against her waist, Charlotte turned to her sister. “You weren't so eager, either. It’s got to be done, but that doesn’t mean anyone has to like doing it.”

  Recalling his first foray into changing Madeline’s messy diapers, Kendrick raised his eyes to the ceiling. Charlotte sure spoke the truth about that not being a favorite job. Kendrick put a pot on the stove and filled it with enough water to make mush for both him and Madeline. “As soon as I eat and clean up my breakfast, I need to open my shop. You girls do realize, don't you, that I can't have you in here when people start coming in up front? If they hear female voices in my house, they will wonder what dastardly deeds I'm up to.”

  Charlotte, a wet diaper in one hand and the other hand on Madeline’s tummy, turned to him. “We went through this yesterday, Mr. Denham. We’ll be quiet.”

  Caroline re-entered the kitchen holding up two gowns, one a pale green and one yellow. “Aren't these cute? I can't decide which one I like best for her today.”

  Kendrick turned from the stove where he was stirring the oats for his mush. “I don't think it really makes a difference.”

  Caroline smiled with an air of assurance and nodded. “Oh, it will matter.”

  Having no idea what she meant, and not sure if it would be wise to ask her, Kendrick merely shrugged. “Whatever you young ladies think is best. She’ll probably wear them all before I get around to washing her clothes, which I will have to do pretty soon if she keeps getting food down the front of them. She tends to get the hems wet during the night, too.”

  Caroline canted head and gave him a questioning look. “Why don't you use the bibs? We found several of them in her trunk.”

  Kendrick twisted his upper body away from the stove and offered her a blank stare. Bibs? “I guess I didn’t think of that. Maybe you can show them to me, and she can wear one today. I plan to take Madeline's crib and put it up front with me, so it would be nice if we could keep her gown clean that long.”

  Kendrick shook his head as he watched both the girls appear to deflate before his eyes. They turned to each other and entered into their communication without words.

  Charlotte spun around toward him, her face lighting up.

  Kendrick suppressed a groan. He could almost see schemes running though her mind.

  “That will work. We’ll get Madeline all dressed and fed.”

  “Oh, I understand. Then, Mr. Denham, you can take the crib out front...”

  “…while we go home and help Aunt Lydia finish the chores Mama gave her...”

  “...plus help her wash and hang her sheets...”

  “...because it appears our cousin, Will, has a problem, and Mama sure isn't happy about that.”

  With her brow furrowed in consternation, Caroline caught her sister’s gaze with hers. “Lottie, I'm not sure we should say anything about Will’s problem. It might embarrass him even more.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. “If we don't say what the problem is, how can Will get embarrassed about it? Besides, Mr. Denham's not going to say anything to him or anyone else about it.”

  Kendrick blinked. No, he wouldn’t say anything, especially since he had no idea what the twins were talking about.

  Caroline responded with a mournful sigh. “He doesn't have to. Mama has been saying plenty enough about it for everyone. Poor Will...”

  “...and Aunt Lydia. I can tell she's embarrassed over it, too. Although, I think she’s even more worried about how Will feels with Mama making a big fuss over it…”

  “…and Mama made sure Eddie and Jimmy heard about it, too. I hope we can convince them not to make fun of Will.”

  Charlotte harrumphed. “It's too bad Uncle Martin is a ...” she paused and glanced at Kendrick. “Well, what he is that we aren't supposed to let people know that we know what the word means. I think
Aunt Lydia is going to have a time of it dealing with Mama.”

  Chapter 11

  I f Kendrick had entertained the possibility of there being any hope that life, as he had once known it, would return to normal now he had developed a routine with Madeline, unlocking his front door to allow customers to enter his butcher shop dispelled that notion. Twice as many customers as what he normally could expect on a Friday morning poured into the room. A few approached the counter. However, the majority veered towards the crib wedged in the corner between the end of his counter and the wall just outside the door that led to his kitchen. They seemed drawn to the sight of a sleeping Madeline as if they were bees buzzing around a flower laden with pollen.

  Kendrick pushed through the men, using his arms to press several away from the edge of the crib. “Please do not touch the bed or the baby, gentlemen. I spent considerable time this morning cleaning her up, and I don't want your grubby hands or dusty clothes coming in contact with her or her crib.”

  Kendrick raised his eyes upward in a silent prayer asking for forgiveness. He had not spent considerable time this morning preparing the baby for the day. The Thompson twins had seen to Madeline. However, he could not very well give them the credit without explaining why two teenage girls were in his private quarters.

  He agreed with the girls that Madeline looked cute in the light green gown with its layers of lace on the yoke and a white ribbon stitched around the neckline. All the more reason not to allow her to be mauled—well, maybe not mauled, but certainly patted on the head and tickled under her chin—by the grungy hands typical of most of his customers. Not only that, scattered among his regulars seemed to be a collection of newcomers he’d never seen in his shop before. It was about what he could expect of the town's lay-abouts looking for any new source of entertainment.