Gabriel's Atonement (13 page)

Her eyes blinked in confusion, then she cleared her throat and glanced longingly at the list. He stuck it in his pocket.

“Um…of course. Take a right out the door and walk past the next two alleys. You'll see the Leland Hotel across the street on your left. Would you like me to fill your order and have it ready to be picked up later?” She glanced at his pocket again.

“That won't be necessary.” He stepped outside, ignoring her confused stare, and made his way down the boardwalk. After a bath to remove the coal dust from his hair and a warm meal, he'd see if there was any high-quality female companionship to be had.

He walked into the hotel lobby, excitement about the future racing through him. He gave the bell on the counter a sharp tap with his index finger and signed his name to the registration book. Yes sirree, it felt great to be out from under his father's harsh control. Mark Hillborne was his own man and not a puppet to paternal power. Not anymore. The Oklahoma Territory was the last place his wealthy, refined father would care to visit.

Gabe paced in the street outside the newspaper office, kicking up a cloud of dust over his newly polished boots.
Should I or shouldn't I?

He'd read and reread the notice advertising the land rush, and the idea wouldn't go away. It was crazy for him to be contemplating such a thing. He'd never participated in a horse race before, but the very thought of it made his gut swirl with excitement.

He could do it. He certainly had a horse that was fit enough to compete. And the danger of racing thousands of people would be invigorating. Not to mention the thrill of winning a claim.

But what was the point? Did he want to be a sodbuster again? In the Oklahoma Territory, no less? Could he even adjust to country life after living high on the hog in the city for so long?

Pivoting again, Gabe nearly smacked into the head of a horse. The buckskin jerked its head and danced sideways. “Hey, watch out!” the rider yelled.

Gabe jumped back, yanking out his pistol. He aimed it at the man and returned the rider's glare. Sweat trickled down Gabe's back as he realized he'd probably overreacted, but instinct had kicked in. There were times a gambler had to react quickly, and Gabe had honed his skills. The cowboy rested his hand on his pistol for a moment then broke eye contact and nudged his horse forward. Gabe watched the man until he was sure the rider meant no harm then dropped his gun into his holster. Shaking out his tense fingers, he turned back toward the newspaper office.

As usual, a ragtag group stood in front of the land rush poster, and Gabe worked his way forward. One hundred and sixty acres of land. Free to whomever claimed it first.

Ideas churned in his head. If he won land, he could keep it awhile and then sell it. Or maybe he'd try farming again. His real father had been a farmer, and at one time Gabe had dreamed of following in his footsteps. He'd actually never disliked the hard work, just his bitter life after Stephen's death.

But dreams change, and farming held little lure. Now ranching—that was something else. He'd always loved horses. And if he raised a small herd of cattle, he'd have plenty of beef to eat. The more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded.

He pushed out of the crowd. “It's just plain crazy to even consider it.”

A man with a bushy mustache and round spectacles passed by, glancing at Gabe as if he were an oddity.

He thought of his comfortable suite back in Kansas City, the plush carpeting and soft bed. Anything he wanted to eat could be cooked downstairs by Moe, a former slave, then delivered to his door by a dainty gal with flirting eyes. He even had his own table at the Lucky Chance and a reputation for winning fairly. Could he really give all that up to become a rancher?

His steps slowed in front of the land office. For the first time since he'd been in Caldwell, there wasn't a long line of people registering for the run. Was this providence?

In actuality, he could race and still keep his hotel suite. As long as he continued to pay the rent, Hattie wouldn't lease it to anyone else. He might lose his table, though, because there were always other gamblers willing to take his place.

Do it
. A voice in his head urged him on.

His fingertips began to tingle, and a shiver of excitement charged through his body. The land run was the biggest gamble of all for most. He'd heard that many people had left their former homes and families for a chance at the free land. For them, failure left them with nothing. For him, it could be an exciting adventure.

What did he have to lose? It cost nothing to ride in the race, and if he won, he'd have land. If he got a claim, he could try ranching for a time, and if he didn't, well…he could always go home and return to gambling again—or continue on to Texas, a land he'd always wanted to see. As far as he could tell, it was a win-win situation.

Gabe entered the dingy office that smelled of dirt and sweat.

“Come to sign up, did'ja?” A stooped man standing near the window walked behind the counter and picked up a pen. He held it out to Gabe. “Just put your John Henry on that there line and you're all set. These here are mighty exciting times, m'boy.”

Unable to hold back a wide grin, Gabe took the pen and signed his name.

“Yep, I tell you, it's history in the making.” The old-timer reclaimed his pen and laid it under the counter. “You sure did come at a good time. First time in a week that there ain't been a line.”

Gabe nodded. “I know. I've been watching.”

“You'll be needin' to get a sturdy stick and tie some cloth on it to stake your claim, if 'n you're one of the lucky ones. There's markers—usually stacks of rocks—indicating the corners of each property, but I imagine they'll be hard to find on the run. Good luck to you, son.”

Gabe walked into the sunshine, feeling as if his life was about to change. Funny, how simply signing his name to a piece of paper could make him feel that way.

As he returned to his hotel, he thought of the land he'd like to claim. A pretty little valley somewhere with a creek running through it with enough trees for some cooling shade but not so many that he'd have to clear the land. Maybe then he could find a wife and settle down, thus keeping the promise he made to his ma.

The idea didn't sound nearly as distasteful as it had in the past.

Lara Talbot's face came to mind, and he wondered if the young widow would ever marry again.

L
ara's shoulder ached from the heavy pole pressing against the base of her neck. A few feet ahead of her, Jo walked with the other end on her shoulder, a bucket of goat's milk swaying gently in between them. Cheesecloth covered the pail to keep out flies and dirt. Lara hoped the sale of the milk added to the few coins in her pocket would be enough to buy Grandpa some more quinine. She needed to stock up since they'd be leaving town, and she didn't know when she'd have another chance to purchase any more.

“You know, if you had agreed to register for the land rush like Grandpa and I wanted, we might not have gotten kicked out of the soddy.”

Lara's mind swirled as she tried to comprehend how the two events were related. She scrunched her brow together, trying to make sense of Jo's cryptic statement.

“But no-ooo, you refused to obey, just like Balaam's donkey in the scriptures.”

Lara pursed her lips together at Jo's scolding tone. To her way of thinking, the donkey had saved Balaam's life by diverting from its path to avoid the avenging angel bent on killing Balaam because he'd angered the Lord. She failed to see how her situation resembled his—unless she'd somehow disobeyed God by not following her grandpa's wishes. But he'd only
suggested
she register—at least until yesterday. “You heard what I said yesterday. We have to leave the soddy because Mr. Hancock's son is returning, and he needs it for his family. It has nothing to do with what I did or didn't do.”

“Sometimes God has to give people a shove to get them moving.” Jo lifted the pole, rubbed her shoulder, then lowered the thick wooden rod again, causing the bucket to slide dangerously toward Lara for a moment. “I guess He shoved us by making us lose the soddy.”

Hearing Jo talk of God—albeit skewed—gave Lara hope that her troublesome sister was at least paying some attention during Sunday services. “I doubt the two situations are related.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wondered if maybe there wasn't a bit of truth to Jo's convoluted thinking. Had God forced them from their home so she'd be willing to register for the land rush because they had no other hope of getting land? With no money to buy land or even to rent an acre if one were available, the run was their best hope of obtaining a place to live.

Lara sighed. “There may be some truth in what you say.”

Jo snorted. “Never thought I'd hear you say that I'm right about something.” She stepped to the side of the road to allow a covered wagon pulled by an oxen team to pass by, and Lara followed her. The couple on the seat nodded in their direction. She smiled at them.

The road south of Caldwell had always been a fairly isolated one, traveled mostly by folks who lived outside of town or were journeying to the Twin Territories. Now it seemed busier than the streets of Caldwell with so many people going to the Kansas border to prepare for the land rush.

Just outside of town, a buckboard piled high with furniture, bedding, and crates approached, surrounded by a passel of children of all sizes, laughing, squealing, and dodging in and out of the tall prairie grass alongside the road. By the end of the day, she was sure, they'd all be dragging their feet.

A thin woman, who sat next to a man on the wagon seat, nudged him in the side. She whispered something in his ear. He glanced at Jo and Lara then handed the reins to his wife and jumped off the slow-moving wagon as his wife reined the horses to a stop.

He walked toward them and seemed to be studying the dirt road. Finally, he looked up and removed his hat. His gaze darted everywhere except at them. “My missus wants to know if perchance y'all might have some milk or eggs in yer bucket.”

Jo nodded before Lara could respond. “We've got goat's milk.”

His hands wrung his hat half to death. “I don't reckon you'd care to part with it, would you?”

Lara's heart jolted. She had no doubt the large family needed the milk, but it was her only chance for getting Grandpa's medicine. “We plan to sell it in town,” she blurted before Jo could offer to give it away.

“I'd be willing to pay you for it. Say, half a dollar. Our cow died several days back, and our young'uns are in terrible need of some fresh milk.”

Jo glanced over her shoulder and lifted her brows. Lara didn't need to consider the offer, because it was more than twice what she'd get in town. “Sold.” She offered a smile, and the man looked her full in the face for the first time and grinned.

He took the bucket and poured the milk into one of his own. The six stair-step children chattered loudly and gathered around the back of the wagon. They looked well fed and nicely clothed, making Lara wonder why the family didn't buy another cow. But it was no concern of hers. She gladly accepted the half dollar and carried the bucket while Jo walked with the pole as if it were a shepherd's staff.

“I want to go say good-bye to Alma Lou and visit with her a little while.”

Lara wanted to tell Jo that they had lots to do, but the truth was, there wasn't all that much to pack. “I'll need your help later. I want to put new grass in the ticks before we leave. I've heard that some of the land in Oklahoma is quite barren.”

Jo glanced sideways at her. “I sure hope it isn't all like that.”

“Me, too.”

A sparkle lit Jo's blue eyes. “Can I go with you to register?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “If you want, but your time would be better spent with Alma Lou than standing in that long line.”

Jo seemed to be thinking that over as they entered Caldwell. When they came to Main Street, she waved and trotted off toward her friend's house. People swarmed the boardwalks, and the loud murmuring of voices reminded Lara of a mass of bees surrounding a hive. Caldwell had certainly become a hive of humanity with all the people passing through.

She walked toward the land office, thankful that the line was short today. She was the only woman waiting to register, and she listened to the men talk of the run. Turning her head to avoid the rank smell of the old man in front of her, she watched the people coming and going, suddenly surprised to realize she was looking for one particular dandy. She owed Gabe Coulter an apology. That must be the reason she was searching him out.

As the line shrank, Lara's angst grew. What if they didn't get land? They'd be stuck in the Oklahoma Territory with no money and no means of support in a place with few towns. Grandpa had insisted they stick together. He didn't want to leave the family behind so that he could travel to the border for the run. Of course, the rest of them would have to wait near the starting line, hoping and praying Grandpa got a claim. She worried about him competing when he wasn't in top condition. And that old mule of theirs was likely to collapse if he pushed it very hard.