I prepared to become a secondary issue, as I fully expected the Sheriff to start questioning the shopkeeper right away, but instead, he seemed to sag under the mention of the bandits.
"Ingalls," he groaned, "I've told you to prepare for the eventuality of a situation like this--"
"Sheriff Jerry!" the man howled. "You expect me to lock up all my merchandise and make it inaccessible to paying customers, just in the interest of placing another obstacle in the way of these robbers who would probably smash the crates open anyway? No!" He paced angrily in front of the gaping hole. "I will not stand for it! I've had about enough of these bandits running all over us and having their way with this town! Don't we have laws inPhantom Gulch?" He whirled on the Sheriff and stuck his face out. His neck thinned out like a turkey. "Aren't you supposed to be the one upholding and defending the law, rather than shrugging your shoulders and turning a blind eye?"
Jerry Coldwell shook his head and placed his hands firmly on Ingalls' shoulders. "Get out of my face, Pierce. You know as well as I do that there is just too much at stake here to try and engage the bandits. They've probably made it back to the bluffs by now, and they'll have the advantage." He made no mention of me, but I saw the way he slid his eyes in my direction.
Ingalls noticed it too. His face twisted into a grimace.
"Begging your pardon," he spat. "But I wasn't aware we were welcoming strange vagrants in terrible clothes--"
Jerry held up his hand again. "That is my business, Pierce."
"And chasing down outlaws isn't?"
The sheriff reached back and grabbed my hand. "We're leaving," he muttered tome. To the shopkeeper he said, "Assess the damage, and write up a bill of everything that got stolen. Then see to repairing your shop so that you can start welcoming customers again. I'll ask around and send anyone available to help your way. How does that sound?"
The irate shopkeeper clenched his fists and stomped back to the shop.
The sheriff led me further into the town. We turned down a road that I could see would lead us to a cluster of small houses. I tried to smile and nod pleasantly at everyone we passed, but only got frowns, gapes, and calculating squints in response.
Two ladies, wearing ample hoop skirts and billowing blouses, stood at the front of a square white building, waving and greeting passersby. When they saw us, the smiles disappeared, and they dared to approach us.
"Oh, Sheriff Coldwell!" said the lady on the right. "How are you feeling today?"
"Oh, not too bad, Prudence," Jerry responded jovially. "And yourself?"
The women gave me pointed looks.
"Trudy," Prudence leaned over and gave a loud whisper. "I do believe the Sheriff is under some kind of terrible threat of duress. I greatly fear for his safety and his sanity."
"Aye, sister," Trudy murmured back. "Either that or the poor man must be going blind, for surely no one with his authority and stature would dare to--"
Jerry whirled around so fast that I nearly collided with him. "All right!" he barked at the nosy ladies. "Let's have it out, ladies. What seems to be the problem?"
Trudy and Prudence stared at him with wide, owlish eyes--which they subtly shifted in my direction.
Jerry snorted. "Her? This is your problem?" He placed a hand on my shoulder. I noticed his grip wasn't rough or heavy. "This is why you question my competence? Because of a girl?"
The owl eyes blinked.
"Oh!"said Prudence.
"It's a girl, is it?" said Trudy.
Jerry wagged his head. "Of course she is! What else could she be?"
He meant it as a rhetorical question, but from the deep pink flush on both faces in front of me, I guessed that I probably wouldn't like the answer they had to that question.
I was right.
"Well, to be sure," Prudence stammered, "if I would have seen this... girl... walking down the street, I might have mistaken her for a rather unkempt man, with the strange trousers she wears."
"Or an escaped convict," Trudy added quickly.
Jerry threw back his head and roared with laughter. "You worried that I'd somehow gotten friendly with a convict?"
They returned to blinking owl eyes.
Jerry finished laughing and mopped his face with the bandana. "Oh, that is wonderful," he sighed. "Tell me, ladies--if this girl is an escaped convict... How far away is the nearest prison?"
"There's the State Penitentiary just outside of Junction," Trudy volunteered.
I had a sneaking suspicion that these would be exactly the type of ladies to keep themselves and others appraised of such matters.
"Junction is well-nigh fifty miles away," Jerry stated, "and there are other towns much closer to it, in pretty much any other direction except toward Phantom Gulch--so why, if she escaped the prison at Junction, would she bother walking fifty miles into the middle of nowhere, just to be here in Phantom Gulch?"
In perfect unison, the sisters' mouths dropped open. They gaped like fish for several silent moments, then turned about-face and flounced back into town to harry some other unsuspecting individual.
Jerry nodded to me and pointed to the road. "Best keep moving, Laura."
I grinned as we walked. "Wow," I said. "I'm impressed at the way you handled those two fussbudgets."
Jerry chuckled. "That's just Tru and Pru, our resident spinsters who make it their business to air their approval and disapproval of everyone else's business. If you ever wanted a source that knew everything about everybody, that would be Tru and Pru." He glanced over and gave me a wink. "Which is why I'm glad you're here."
Glad? "Why are you glad, exactly?"
"We don't get a lot of newcomers around here. The community in Phantom Gulch is pretty tight. News travels fast, and my wife and I have spent the last couple years learning the ins and outs of everybody who lives here. You? You're something no one has seen before, one those two nosy biddies can't figure out--and I got to you first, so I'll know more about you than they ever hope to!" He kept walking in long, easy strides, even whistling a little as he went, but I felt my stomach knotting up inside me.
You won't be finding out too much about me, I hope! I thought to myself.
We passed by several homesteads until we came to a small house set very close to the road. A quaint white picket fence surrounded the yard--which was tiny, compared to the vast pastures of the other properties--and the house itself was painted a cheery butter-yellow.
Jerry reached over the low gate to release the latch. "Home sweet home," he murmured.
I followed, the sight of everything tickling my memory, the same as with Phantasm and the space ship. I knew I had come across an idea for a Western--if only I could place it!
Three sturdy steps up to the porch, and Jerry opened the door and led me inside, removing his hat as he did.
"That you, Jerry?" called a feminine voice from at least two rooms away.
"Honey, I'm home!" he called back.
With a swooshing of petticoats, a woman sailed into the room, and it was all I could do not to gasp aloud.This definitely had to be one of my stories I was living through I had most certainly seen her face somewhere before! Knowing me, I probably based her appearance on some actress I had recently seen--but who? And what significance did she have, that she would be the only familiar person I'd met so far?
By the time her expression changed, and she stopped just shy of greeting her husband,I realized I had probably been staring for a little too long.
"Oh," she set down the dishtowel she'd been using to wipe her hands. "Jerry," she murmured, edging closer to him without taking her eyes of of me, "who is this?"
He reached both arms to wrap her in a hug and lean in for a kiss. "In a moment, dear." He kissed her tenderly, and when they pulled away from each other, she watched his face searchingly. "What happened? I knew there had been a ruckus, because I could hear it from way out here. Jerry--"
"Nothing happened," he assured his wife. "Just a bit of a dustup with some of Tom's boys. No one got hurt. This one especially," he turned to me with a grin. "I was passing by just in time to pull her out of the path of a wagon. Shirley, I want you to meet Laura. Laura, this is my wife, Shirley Coldwell."
Her sparkling hazel eyes melted from fear and confusion into genuine warmth as she smiled at me. I had to admire the firm honey-golden hue of her hair, and the way it stayed in perfect curls at the nape of her neck.
"Pleased to meet you, Laura," she said, holding out her hand.
I shook it. "The feeling is mutual."
She hesitated, playing with the cuff of her billowing cream-colored blouse. "Begging pardon, but your clothes seem, um, comfortable," she remarked, making a point, I felt, not to stare too long.
I could understand why; probably from her standpoint, my single layer of clothing was tantamount to standing there in my underwear! Before I could answer,Jerry gave a short cough. "Shirley-belle, I was hoping that you might be able to lend Laura a couple dresses, at least for the time being; it looks like she'll be staying with us a while, and I want to make sure she doesn't feel out of place among us." If I didn't know any better, I would say that he might have just called me some kind of alien--but then again, I owned that such an assumption was as close to the truth as anyone would ever get, so I let it slide.
"Oh!"Shirley blinked. "Of course," she gave me a sympathetic smile. "Come with me, I'll show you the guest room and bring you some things."
Shirley led me down the narrow hallway and pointed to a small door. "You can sleep here," she said. "We keep it especially for out-of-town guests who don't want to bother with a hotel room."
I slid inside.
The room was roughly the size of my walk-in closet back home (or "just upstairs" if I was still sitting in my front room hallucinating all these adventures--so many lifetimes ago!) and that was barely enough room for a bed, a small wardrobe, and a narrow table with a washbasin on it. A shelf below held the pitcher that Shirley grabbed. "I'll fill this up for you so you can freshen from your, um, journey," her eyes darted to my feet, as if she couldn't believe anyone capable of walking any sort of distance in the soft, durable footwear I received along with my outfit. "I'll be right back with some dresses for you to try."
She visited the kitchen briefly, where I could hear the creak of a water pump, the trickle of water, and a hasty murmured conversation between husband and wife. Shirley still wore a smile when she brought the pitcher back, half-filled with water, and she handed it to me before bustling down the hall to the next room.
I sighed, wetting my hands and sleeve to rub some of the dust and dirt from my face. Without a mirror, I had no idea how much of a difference it made. One thing I did know, was that the feel of water reminded me of how long it had been since I had last eaten, or even relieved myself. No doubt a nineteenth-century home like this wouldn't have any indoor plumbing--but surely they were more refined than squatting over a hole in the ground! On a whim, I checked under the bed. Sure enough, a plain copper pot rested just out of sight. I quickly did my business and had just scooted it back to its place when my hostess returned with her arms full of calico and checked fabrics.
"We are just about the same size, I think," she said. "These are some of last year's dresses; a bit worn, but they'll do nicely, I think!" She picked up a dress with tiny pink rosebuds on a field of forest-green. "Like this one." She held it under my chin. "Ooh!" she gushed. "Laura, I think this is definitely the color for you! Try it on!"
The sleeves came down to my elbow, and puffed out at the shoulder. By folding up the sleeve of my jumpsuit back up to my shoulder, I could slip the dress on over it and no one would be the wiser.
Before I could put it on, though, Shirley pulled out a series of wooden hoops covered by a voluminous linen petticoat.
"Here, you'll need this to keep the skirts from getting underfoot."
I stared askance at the contraption. "Oh no," I said. "Where I'm from, we don't really need those things--"
Shirley's eyebrows came straight up her forehead. "Don't need them? Yes, and I suppose most girls in this strange place of yours walk around in long underwear as you do!" She gave a little laugh and placed a hand on my arm. "Don't you worry, Laura; I've been wearing hoops ever since I was a little girl. I know exactly how to tie them so you won't feel a thing!"
Meekly, I acquiesced to her recommendation, and after the hoops came the dress, which proved to consist of a lot more fabric than I anticipated.
Shirley finished fastening the row of tiny buttons along my spine, and gave my shoulders an excited little push.
"Oh, turn around, I want to see it!" she begged.
I did, and though there was no mirror, the glowing grin on her face was enough. She was right about the hoops, too. The skirt of the dress hung gracefully over it, and the lace trim just barely skimmed the floor as I took a few practice steps.
"Oh my stars, don't you look like a fine young lady now!" she gasped.
In the room below, a stately chime sounded four times. Shirley clapped her hands to her forehead.
"And that would be my cue to begin supper already! Where is my mind today? I hope you don't mind," she grinned at me hopefully.
I shook my head. "Not at all," I said.
"You can come out and sit with Jerry while I whip something together and pop it in the oven," Shirley offered, leading me back out toward the front room.
She turned toward the room opposite the dining room. It appeared to be a quaint little sitting room, with a rocking chair, an armchair, a long, plush sofa, and a small shelf of books, knickknacks on small tables covered with lace doilies, and a crackling fire in the fireplace.
Jerry was just in the act of stoking the flames with the poker when Shirley declared, "Here she is!"
He straightened and turned to look at me. His eyebrows came up, but his face softened into a smile that was not at all unfriendly.
"That's more like it," He gave his approval. "You don't look like a convict anymore, if you don't mind my saying."
"Jerry!" Shirley gave her husband a horrified look, but we both laughed.
"Get along to the kitchen now, Shirley-belle," Jerry chided her. "We don't know how long Laura has been without food, and we don't want to keep her waiting!"
As if to emphasize his point, my stomach let out the loudest gurgle I had ever experienced. The kindly woman flew into the kitchen, calling over her shoulder. "You just sit yourself down on that sofa, dear. I'll have a wonderful meal fixed up in a jiffy!"
I moved to follow her suggestion--but I had never worn a hoop skirt in my life, and so trying to sit down in one was a sore trial! I finally managed to bunch them all together at the back, thus sitting directly on the cushion without the hoops getting caught underneath me and lifting up in front of me.
Jerry watched this whole song-and-dance with barely-concealed amusement.
"So," he mused, "I take it there are some things about the way ladies dress that you aren't exactly accustomed to dealing with."
I gave a sheepish grin and nodded. "You can say that again! It's these hoops; they make the dress look lovely, but I've never worn anything like it in my life!"
Jerry chuckled. "I hate to break it to you, missy, but the ones that Shirley wears are quite small compared to some others I've seen! But I do know a few ladies who wear styles that don't require the extra layers; perhaps I can convince Shirley that this is the style you'd prefer, and the two of you can pick out dresses along those lines tomorrow. Does that strike you as a more comfortable option?"
I nodded emphatically. "It does indeed!"
Jerry slapped his knee. "Then it's settled. I'm sure she won't mind, but I'll ask her, just the same."
Silence descended between us, almost as thick as the two-inch ruff on my skirt. Jerry didn't once take his eyes off me, but it was a calculating, keen stare.
"Speaking of where you come from," Jerry broke the silence with the words that made my skin go all cold and clammy. "I don't believe you ever explained to me where precisely that is. I know it's not the State Penitentiary--so where are you really from, Laura?" He rested his elbows on the arm rests and leaned his fingertips against one another, like a long, peaked roof.
I could feel the color mounting in my cheeks. This was just like having to explain my arrival to Commander Gerald--except I happened to be slightly more familiar with the cultural and social expectations of a Wild West town, as opposed to a foreign space cruiser. I just hoped I could make it convincing enough to remember it when necessary, without tripping myself up. Probably the fact that Jerry wasn't as suspicious of me as Commander Gerald was helped my case greatly!
"As you say, I haven't come from a very long ways away," I said. "I only started walking this morning, from my family's home in the bluffs," I jerked my thumb in the correct direction. "We've lived there pretty much on our own for a few years, until..." I let my voice fade off as if tortured by the memory of something traumatic--but what was really torturing me in that moment was trying to come up with a suitable scenario that made sense for a girl like me, dressed like I was, to be walking all by herself in the cliffs!
"Until what?" Jerry challenged. He wasn't going to let me off easy. "Did Big Tom and his bandits raid your homestead in the mountains?"
I nodded, still keeping the pitiful expression on my face. The manufactured tale came tumbling out of my mouth. "They attacked just the other night, just as we were sitting down to dinner. Father heard shouting, and went to see what was the matter, and when he opened the door, there was our modest vegetable garden, in flames. He grabbed the gun and went out to defend himself, while Mother and I hid in a room at the back of the house. We heard gunshots, and the next thing we know, the bandits are swarming the house, looting and looking for us." I forced myself to picture this fictional scene, playing up the drama to produce the expected emotional response. I kept my eyes wide, testifying to the horror of it all.
"Of course they came into the room and knew we were there right away, but Mother stood up to them. She burst out of our hiding place, yelled at me to run, and grabbed the kerosene lantern by the bed, smashing it on the floor." I could feel a lump forming in my throat, and I just kept thinking about how I would feel if I witnessed my own parents, dying at the hands of a bunch of heartless thugs. "Everything else that happened that night was a blur. I got out of the house while the bandits were all shouting at the fire that was spreading all over the place. I remember seeing the horses waiting for the riders, and although I hadn't really ever ridden a horse before, I know I did try." I took a deep, calming breath, and continued. "It's a lot harder than it looks in the movies, to just get up and ride a horse, let me tell you! It wasn't a few yards before the horse bucked me off, and I had to run the rest of the way, to get away from those bandits and the burning house and my dead parents..." I blinked and returned to the present scenario, which honestly didn't seem anymore real than the story I'd just made up in my head. "And at last I found my way to Phantom Gulch, where you saved my life from a runaway wagon."
"Oh!" cried a voice just behind me, and I turned to see Shirley standing in the doorway, the apron hanging over her clothes lightly dusted in flour, and her face a little smudged. She stared at me, her wide eyes brimming with tears. "You poor dear!" She murmured. "I had no idea! Losing your parents and your home in one night... No wonder you weren't paying attention to your surroundings in this unfamiliar place!" She rushed forward and grabbed my hands, pulling me to my feet and throwing her arms around me, floured apron and all. "I want you to know that from now on, you'll always have a home in Phantom Gulch, as long as Jerry and I are here!"
I didn't feel any awkwardness about hugging her back. "Thank you," I said.
Shirley pulled back and swiftly regained her composure. "Ahem!" She daintily swiped at the corners of her eyes. "Dinner is served!"
We all moved to the dining room.
Jerry, who hadn't said a word this whole time, waited until we were seated and Shirley filled our plates to finally respond.
"That was some tale, Laura," he began slowly, and I wondered if I had made a mistake in assuming he would believe such a wild story. "I am most impressed at how you can come through all of that relatively unharmed. I just have one question." Uh-oh! Here it came; had I put in too much detail, or not enough?
Jerry locked eyes with me over his steaming plate and asked. "What is this movies you mentioned, and what does it have to do with riding a horse?"
Oops. Come on, brain--think of something, quick! "Oh, movies are just... um, what we call, er, moving pictures, a new thing, ehrm, back in the, uh, city, that I remember from when I was really little.I watched a lot of W--" Dangit, Laura! Do not say 'WESTERNS'! "W--Horseriding, um, pictures..." I left off and shoved a large bite of food in my mouth to cut off the conversation.
To my relief, I saw Shirley give her husband the look that said That's enough now, dear. She smiled at me and changed the subject. "Laura, tomorrow I have a few errands to run in town, and some friends to visit. You can come with me, sort of get to know the place a little better, if you like."
I nodded, swallowing before replying, "That sounds like fun, thank you."
No one said much through the rest of that meal, and when it was over, Jerry and Shirley bid me goodnight, and in the blessed privacy of the guest room I could finally take off that dress and the hoop skirts (noting as I did that Shirley was right; without the extra support, the dress hung straight down and dragged on the floor, it was so long) and lay in that big comfortable bed. I drifted to sleep almost right away, blissfully unaware of what adventures awaited me in Phantom Gulch.
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