Rachel Kraft

I walked out of the roadhouse as the driver was bringing the stage around from the livery barn. Caroline Devane, wearing a gray serge traveling dress, stood still as a statue looking out over Twelve-Mile Slough, her crocheting bag and reticule beside her; the wind blew wisps of her hair, and her gaze was remote, as if she’d already traveled many miles from here.

I said her name, and she turned and gave me a wan smile. “Have you made a decision about your future?”

“Yes. I’m going on to my sister and her family, because they’re expecting me, but I won’t stay long. There’s a shortage of trained nurses in this state. I ought to be able to find employment in Los Angeles or San Diego.”

“Do you have enough money to live until you do?”

“Enough, if I’m fortunate. Before I left Sacramento, I sold my jewelry.”

Mr. Nesbitt had returned the $3,000 to me when he and Annabelle and poor Mr. Murdock came back with word of the peddler’s death, and, after talking to Joe, I’d put the money into his belt pouch. Now I pressed the pouch into Caroline’s hands.

“Perhaps this will help.”

She stared down at it, then opened it. Her eyes widened with astonishment when she saw the bills and specie inside.

“It’s half the money I took from my husband’s safe,” I said. “Fifteen hundred dollars.”

“I can’t accept it.” She closed the pouch and thrust it back at me. “Why would you want to give me so much money?”

“You saved Joe’s life.”

“I only did what I was trained to do.”

“Please take it. Joe and I want you to have it.”

“No, I wouldn’t feel right…”

“Please.”

Our eyes locked—two stubborn, proud women.

“You’re going away,” she said, “you’ll need it…”

“I’m not going away and I don’t need it. Joe and I decided to return to the ranch when he’s able to travel. My late husband’s affairs have to be put in order and there are other things that need attending to. After that…well, we’ll see.”

“Still, I can’t take money from you…”

“It’s not a gift, it’s a loan. I can have a paper drawn up to that effect if you like.”

“But you hardly know me…”

“I know enough. You’re good and honest and caring and you’ve already paid a high price for your sins. You shouldn’t have to pay any more.”

“I…I don’t know what to say…”

“Say yes. It will make starting your new life so much easier.”

She was silent for several seconds. Then, slowly: “Well, if it’s to be a loan…”

“From one new friend to another.”

I pressed the pouch into her hands again. This time she kept it, her eyes bright with tears.

Two stubborn, proud women, one strong, the other learning how to be.