“No, I can’t say we have,” Mrs. Trenton said. “You don’t suppose it’s someone causing all of these things to happen, do you?”
“Wade thinks there might be rustlers in the area.” But as Hazel spoke the words, they made no sense. Wouldn’t rustlers want as many cattle as possible? Why would they only target the Pierce ranch?
“I’ll mention it to Isaac,” Mrs. Trenton said. “Perhaps he’s heard something from the other ranchers.”
“Thank you.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Mrs. Drexel said, her hands resting on the counter. “People of all sorts come through this valley. Most of them are perfectly friendly. Others are simply rowdy. And then you have the men bent on something worse.”
“I know about that all too well,” Mrs. Trenton said softly.
Hazel glanced at her, dying to ask more, but Mrs. Drexel spoke first.
“As do Thomas and I. Just a few months ago, a gang of outlaws from Kansas ransacked our store.”
Hazel covered her mouth in surprise. She glanced around. “You’d never know it. It looks perfectly orderly in here.”
“We were grateful to the town for help piecing it all back together. But there is never a dull day here. I enjoy meeting most of the people who come in to buy their necessities, but every now and then, there are those I wished I hadn’t met.” Mrs. Drexel leaned forward, and Hazel found herself doing the same, curious to hear about some of the folks Mrs. Drexel had met—and then wished she hadn’t.
“Oh, come on, Caroline! You can’t say that and not tell us more,” Mrs. Trenton said.
Hazel smiled at their camaraderie—and she wished she might become friends with both of these women too.
“All right. Here’s one story, and then I must help Mrs. Pierce with her order.” Mrs. Drexel folded her hands together on the counter. “Just a couple of days ago, a devilishly handsome man walked through the door. He had hair darker than coal and a long scar down the length of his cheek—but that scar somehow made him even more handsome. When he smiled, he could make you forget your own name. And I had the strangest feeling that his heart was as black as his hair.” She glanced at Hazel. “I’m a very practical woman and not much given to flights of fancy, but all I could picture was how many broken hearts he’d left in his wake.”
They were silent for a moment, until Mrs. Trenton finally spoke. “That’s all? I thought he might’ve started a fistfight outside your store, or perhaps Deputy Wright might have come looking for him hours after he’d left and you’d found out he was wanted for murder.”
Hazel smothered a giggle as Mrs. Drexel shook her head. “You weren’t there, Maggie! If you had been, you’d know what I meant. He had an air of danger about him, unlike any man you’ve ever met.”
“I’m not entirely sure about that,” Mrs. Trenton said quietly, just as the door opened.
Hazel followed Mrs. Drexel’s gaze to see who the newcomer might be—only to find her own husband making his way toward the counter.
“Are you about finished?” he asked as he approached.
“Oh, I . . .” Hazel looked to Mrs. Drexel. They’d been so busy talking that Hazel hadn’t given a thought to what she’d planned to purchase.
“Yes, I believe we’re nearly finished,” Mrs. Drexel said smoothly as she set a length of brown paper on the counter. “What else did you need, Mrs. Pierce?”
Hazel bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Besides the set of canning jars and the sack of flour, I’d also like some salt and a length of plain muslin, please.”
“I’ll be outside,” Wade said, backing away.
The second he’d escaped through the door, Hazel burst into laughter.
“There is nothing worse than an impatient man,” Mrs. Drexel said.
“And with that said, I’d best go find mine before he grows impatient.” Mrs. Trenton gathered up her packages. “Please,” she said to Hazel. “Come by for a visit anytime. I get awfully lonely out on that ranch without friends for company. I’d love to see you.”
Hazel thanked her, and when her own packages were ready, she bade goodbye to Mrs. Drexel and left the store happy.
Even if Wade insisted on being a bear, she might at least have friends here now.
