She nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. “I see.” What now? Should she wait until the telegram came through? “How long do repairs usually take?”
He tipped his head, his expression thoughtful. “Hard to say. Sometimes a week, sometimes months if the line goes down far from town.”
Months? She couldn’t possibly wait here that long.
Disappointment fought with determination in her chest. She’d come so far already. She could make her own travel arrangements for the last stretch. She certainly couldn’t wait here for months, facing an uncertain future.
She forced a pleasant smile. “Thank you. Can you recommend how I might arrange passage to Walnut Springs?”
The clerk tapped a finger on the counter as his gaze turned thoughtful. “I know the name, but I can’t recall exactly where that is. You might try the livery down the way. They’ll know best. Over one street and to the left.” He motioned the direction she needed to go.
She thanked the man and stepped back into the sunlit street. His directions had been vague, but they took her close enough to hear the clanging of metal on metal. A sign halfway down the block proclaimed, “Livery and Blacksmith.”
Three rowdy men outside the rough-hewn building fell silent at her approach. They scanned her up and down, whispering amongst themselves. Though her cheeks scalded, she did her best to project an air of belonging as she walked, despite the lingering stares following her progress.
The livery doors stood open, and she stepped through to escape the leering, but paused inside to let her eyes adjust from the bright sun.
The scent of hay and horses filled her nose. The hammering ceased and a burly man with wild red hair looked up from his work at the forge. He set down his tools and wiped his hands on his leather apron.
“Help ye, lass?” His Irish accent gave a lilt to his words, but not enough to make him hard to understand.
She stepped farther into the space, toward the flickering light from the forge. “I’m hoping you can, sir. I need passage to Walnut Springs. I was told you might be able to assist me.”
The man’s thick brows lifted in surprise. “Walnut Springs, ye tell me? T’at be a fair journey from here, ‘specially for a lady traveling alone. Whereabouts are ye headed, if I may ask?”
She hesitated only a moment before replying. “I’m to meet Mr. William Balfour there.”
“Ah, t’e Balfour Ranch.” He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I know it. Up in the high country, so it is. Nestled in a pretty valley. Good grazing land, from what I hear.”
His familiarity with the location eased some of the tension in her shoulders. At least she was on the right track. “That’s the one. I had hoped Mr. Balfour would have sent word on how to complete my journey, but it seems his message has been delayed.”
“Not unusual, t’at.” His beard tugged up at the corners, and his eyes softened. “T’e telegraph lines are a mite unpredictable in these parts. But no matter. If it’s Walnut Springs ye be wanting, I could have an answer for ye.”
Mandie’s heart leapt. “I would be most grateful for any assistance.”
The man nodded toward the open doors at the back of the livery. “I’ve a fellow out t’ere now, loading up a wagon for a journey in t’at direction. Name’s Two Stones, and he’s traveling with his new wife. He’s a native, but t’ere’s none more capable,and none more trustworthy either. If he’s willing, he could see ye there safe, so he could.”
Mandie followed his gaze to the bright yard behind the stable. A tall figure moved around a wagon, securing a cover over the contents. His raven-black hair shone in the sunlight like the natives she’d passed in the street. He wore a loose cotton shirt and trousers like many of the white men though.
How could she trust a stranger? Or rather, two strangers, with his wife along. And natives especially. The stories she’d heard on the steamboat ride…
She turned back to the livery owner, a nervous flutter in her stomach. “Is there not a stagecoach or other form of public passage?”
He offered a grim smile. “Sorry, lass. The last stage driver headed east before winter hit, an’ we’ve not had another step up since t’en. Ye could rent a horse or wagon and team. Else ride along with someone goin’ that direction.” He hesitated. “I can tell you if I were choosin’ who I’d trust to drive me there, Two Stones would be top of my list.”
A wagon. And a strange man and woman. Did she dare? What choice did she have?
“How long will the trip take?”
He tipped his head. “I don’t travel it often, but I’d say a week an’ a half or so. Dependin’ on t’e weather.”
A week and a half. With strangers.
She took in a steadying breath to quell the panic rising in her chest. “You said his wife would travel with us?”
Another woman, even a native woman, would make the situation more palatable. Did either of them speak English?
The blacksmith turned and motioned for her to follow. “Let’s go get the particulars from him.”
