A Home for His Family. Jan Drexler

each other as they paraded down the walk. High-pitched laughter rose above the general noise of the street. With their attention all on themselves, they pretended not to notice the stares they were garnishing from the crowds of men around them.

      Nate’s stomach roiled, but out of habit he studied each face, looking for the familiar features. He looked again at the girl in red. She was too young to be Mattie, but she looked so much like his sister that he stared. She wasn’t laughing along with her friends, but glanced this way and that, a frightened rabbit surrounded by hounds.

      Just as the wagon drew close to the girls, the team halted, unable to move past a freight wagon stopped in front of them. At the same time, a large, balding man approached the three women. When they saw him, their laughter died. The girl in red stepped behind her friends.

      “Good afternoon, girls,” the man said in a loud voice, commanding the attention of everyone in the vicinity.

      The girl in purple giggled as the one in yellow, the older one, sidled up to the man, caressing his arm. “Hello, Tom.”

      The man shrugged her away. “That’s Mr. Harris to you, Irene. What are you girls doing out here on the street this time of the afternoon?”

      Irene pushed away from him as the purple girl giggled again and dangled a package in front of him. “We’ve been shopping, Mr. Harris. But we’re on our way back to the Mystic right now.” She waved at the crowd of men around them. “And maybe we’ll bring some customers with us.”

      Nate turned his head away. The girl was inebriated, or drugged. He had seen her kind too often in his search for Mattie. Past the watching crowd, crossing the intersection of Main and Lee, were the MacFarlands with Olivia and Lucy. As Sarah stopped to watch the altercation, Nate’s attention was pulled back.

      “Fern, I want you and Irene to head back to the Mystic right now.” The girls did his bidding, pushing past him. Fern and Irene waved to the men as they made their way down the boardwalk toward the Badlands, but Harris reached out and grabbed the girl in red. “Not you, Dovey.” He pulled her closer than a man properly should. “I’ll escort you back. We wouldn’t want you to get lost now, would we?”

      The look on Dovey’s face as she tried to pull away from Harris was more than Nate could stand. Girls like Fern and Irene were one thing—they seemed to be having a good time—but Dovey wanted no part of Harris’s plan for her.

      He handed the reins to Charley. “Stay here.”

      Nate jumped onto the boardwalk, facing Harris. “It looks to me like the young lady doesn’t want to go with you.”

      Over Harris’s shoulder, Sarah’s face caught his eye. She urged him on with a nod.

      Harris looked at Nate and then turned to the surrounding crowd. He laughed with the tone of a man who knew he had the upper hand. “I don’t know who you are, but this matter is none of your concern.”

      Dovey looked at him with Mattie’s eyes, pleading. “It’s all right.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “Don’t...”

      “Do you want to go with this man?”

      Harris laughed again. “Of course she does, don’t you, my dear?” His right hand was in his pocket, where the outline of a derringer showed through the fabric. Harris’s face grew hard. “And truly, it’s none of your business.” He held Nate’s eyes with his own as he pushed past, pulling Dovey along with him.

      The crowd closed around the pair and they disappeared. Nate pulled at the handkerchief knotted around his neck. If it had been Mattie, that confrontation might have been different. He liked to think he would have risked a shot from that derringer to get her away from Harris.

      Sarah appeared at his side as the crowds of men dissipated, holding Lucy by one hand. “Do you know that girl?”

      Nate picked up his niece and held her close. The little girl snuggled in on his right side, away from the scars. “No. She reminds me of someone, though.”

      “I applaud you for stepping in like that. Those poor girls need a champion.” Sarah had a fire in her eyes he hadn’t seen before. She looked down the street where Harris and Dovey had disappeared.

      James and Mrs. MacFarland caught up with Sarah, Margaret ushering Olivia in front of her. “Sarah, this just isn’t proper. Not at all.” Margaret hissed her words, reaching out for Sarah’s arm.

      “But, Aunt Margaret, this is just the kind of situation Dr. Bennett told us we may run into in this wild town. Can’t you see? That poor girl obviously needs someone’s help.”

      Margaret’s head switched this way and that, daring any of the men still watching the scene to say anything. “That may be true. But not here, and not now.”

      Sarah bit her lower lip and Nate smiled. In any other woman, he’d take that to mean that she was unsure of herself. But Sarah MacFarland? She was holding back whatever words were dancing on the tip of her tongue.

      James put his arms around both women and turned them toward the city stairs that led between Lee Street and Williams, where the cabin stood.

      “We need to go home, ladies. We’ll meet you up above, Nate, and we’ll lead you to a fine camping place.”

      Nate touched his fingers to the brim of his hat in answer and climbed back up onto the wagon seat, settling Lucy next to Charley. He’d hate to be on the receiving end of whatever comments were waiting to come out of Sarah’s mouth.

      * * *

      Sarah held Olivia’s hand as they climbed up the steps leading to Williams Street. Partway up, Olivia stopped to look behind them and clutched Sarah’s hand even tighter.

      “We’re already as high as the roofs on Main Street.”

      Sarah looked back. Even here the noise and dirt of the mining camp seemed far away. “We need to hurry if we’re going to get back to the cabin before your uncle Nate.”

      Olivia started climbing again, taking one step at a time. “Will we get to stay with you again tonight?”

      “I think your uncle will be setting up your camp, but you can eat supper with us.” Sarah paused for breath at the top of the steps. Uncle James and Aunt Margaret were far ahead, walking arm in arm past the cabins perched along the trail. Their cabin was farther on, around the bend of the hill.

      It was just as well. Arguing with Aunt Margaret about the scene down below wouldn’t be fruitful. She let Dr. Bennett’s words bolster her strength. Choose your battles wisely, she had said many times during the Sunday afternoon meetings in her parlor on Beacon Hill. We fight against a formidable enemy. One who is not willing that any of these unfortunate souls would slip from his grasping fingers. Sarah smiled at the memory. What fire that woman had, and what a way with words!

      “Is our campsite far away from you?”

      Sarah looked down into Olivia’s face and smoothed back a wisp of blond hair that had escaped her braid. “No, not very far at all. We’ll be able to see each other often.”

      Olivia smiled at that and turned to follow James and Margaret. She was a sweet girl. Sarah hurried to catch up with her. “We’ll have to ask your uncle about the reading lessons. At the very least, I’ll be able to loan you some books to use.”

      “Do you have the Third Reader? That’s the one I was reading from at home.”

      “Yes, I do. How far along are you?”

      “Nearly finished. I memorized ‘The Snowbird’s Song’ for our Christmas program, but that was our last day at school.”

      “I know that poem. It’s all about how God takes care of the birds and provides for them.”

      “Yes, that’s right.” Olivia fiddled with the end of one braid. “But Uncle Nate said we have to take care of ourselves.” She flung the braid back over her shoulder and looked up at Sarah. “Is he right?