Chapter 9
Julie felt quite uncomfortable by the time they had finished their cake. Two large pieces was beyond decadent; it bordered on gluttony, and she thought a large mug of ginger tea would be good.
They paid their check at the hotel’s reception and went for a little walk around town.
Julie liked it. Although not as big as some of the cities she had visited in her life, like Boston or New York, it was growing.
Who knew what San Antonio would become in the future?
It had the makings of being a large and prosperous city.
“We should stop in at the messengers before we leave,” Julie said. “Just in case Mrs. Edwards had a reply for us.”
They did so and found a note waiting.
“What does it say?” Andrew asked as she unfolded the paper and read it.
“Oh, she’s out of town. Her butler responded and said he would give her our message,” she said. It was disappointing and yet not unexpected.
There was no reason to spend any more time in town, and soon they were on the road again. Julie found she was getting sleepy in the hot sun, her head sinking to the side and meeting Andrew’s shoulder from time to time, only for her to jerk awake.
“It’s okay,” Andrew said with a smile. “You can rest your head on my shoulder and have a nap.”
“But then it’ll be like you’re making this trip all alone,” Julie protested.
“I’ve driven this road countless times. Have a rest,” he urged.
She leaned against him and, feeling quite comfortable as the cart rattled along, she let herself drift off to sleep.
By the time she woke up, they were almost at the camp and the afternoon sun was low on the horizon.
“I slept the whole way!”
Andrew smiled and planted a kiss on her forehead. “You needed it. Don’t you feel better?”
“In a way. In another, I feel dreadfully guilty,” Julie said. “I was supposed to be keeping you company.”
He laughed. “My thoughts did that. Memories of that chocolate cake provided a wonderful distraction.”
Everyone came to meet them when they arrived at the camp. They helped to unpack the supplies, and the men were thrilled to hear that there was mail. As expected, there were also several chickens pecking at the ground around the cart.
“They were going for a very reasonable price,” Walter said. “We got a rooster as well, and our little investment will keep us in eggs and new fowls for a good while.”
Andrew nodded. “Well, you’d better make sure they’re looked after. There’s feed for them in the cart. Now, where is the coffee?”
He headed off to the campfire to find a mug while the others unpacked the cart.
“Isn’t he going to hand out the mail?” Julie asked.
“That’s for after dinner,” Michael said, carrying a sack of corn from the back of the cart.
“Ugh, dinner,” Julie said, rubbing her stomach. She was still full to bursting. The ginger tea still sounded good; perhaps she would make some.
“I worked on the garden today,” Kyle said, stepping up beside her and pointing. “It’s all staked out, and I loosened the soil. We’ll be able to start turning in the manure tomorrow.”
“That’s good,” Julie said. “I bought some seeds from the general store. We have pumpkins, summer squash, and a couple of fruit trees. I know they might not grow, but it certainly is worth a try.”
His eyes lit up. “You’re okay, you know that? When you arrived I thought you were going to be one of those women who expect to be waited on hand and food, but you’ve proven yourself to be valuable.” He patted her shoulder. “Welcome to the team.”
Pleased, but not quite sure how to answer the unexpected compliment, she went to put her supplies away and when that was done, she took a walk to the garden. Her ginger tea had waited this long; it could wait a little longer.
The garden was set out beautifully. Kyle had found slabs of stone to lay down as paths between the beds. It was all starting to take shape.
The henhouse was between the paddock and the garden, and the hens seemed happy with their new home.
Julie watched them pecking and scratching at the ground just outside their coop.
The camp was full of life and purpose now.
The men had proven that they were capable of great change.
They were all survivors, and that was important in a place where even the lazy little creek could turn vicious and try to kill you.
“Oh, here you are,” Andrew said as he came walking over to her with two mugs in his hands. “I thought you might like some tea.” He held out a mug.
Julie smiled and took a sniff of fragrant ginger. “How did you know?”
“I’ve noticed a few things about your habits,” he said with a grin. “Like if you feel uncomfortable you always have a cup of ginger tea.”
Julie nodded. “I usually add honey to it, but we don’t have any. Do you think I could keep a hive? I used to keep bees back home, and they made the most wonderful honey.”
“I’m sure Troy would love to build a hive for you,” Andrew said.
“Isn’t he very busy?” she asked.
Andrew shrugged, looking less than happy. “He had time to build a chicken coop today.”
“Does that bother you?” she asked in surprise.
He sipped his coffee, which smelled very strong, before answering.
“I was hoping to see some movement on the elevator he’s supposed to be building for the mine.
But I suppose that things like chicken coops are also important, if only because it makes this place more settled.
” He looked around like a king surveying his very young kingdom.
“It does feel more like a home now, doesn’t it?
” He turned to look at her and his eyes held hers.
Julie smiled and nodded. “It’s funny, but I was thinking the same sort of thing. Having the garden and the chickens and horses around the place does make it seem more officially like a settlement.”
“Well, then I’m glad he built a coop and that we have chickens to gently kick out of the way whenever we want to go anywhere.” He said that last with a touch of irony in his voice and Julie laughed.
Stepping closer, she slid her arm around his waist and rested her head briefly on his chest. “I’m glad that I can share all of this with you.”
His arm closed around her, and he held her to his side. “Me too. It’s so much better with someone to share it with.”
They finished their drinks, talking about future improvements to the little camp. By the end of it, they had a whole small town planned out on the rise, and Julie was filled with the delight of imagining a future she could soon be a part of.
At dinner that evening, Andrew handed out the mail.
Julie watched the men, delighting in their excitement as the letters were passed around to their recipients.
Most were from parents, siblings, or friends they had left back east. It reminded Julie that they were all people who had lived full and complicated lives before coming to this mine.
Just as she had people who wanted to know how she was doing, they had others who wanted to find out about their well-being, and it was wonderful to share in their joy.
“Oh my heavens!” Troy exclaimed as he opened his letter.
“What is it?” Michael asked, leaning over.
Troy pushed him away. “It’s nothing that concerns you.”
“Really? Then who is your letter from?” Michael asked.
Troy, beaming like a child who was expecting one cookie and managed to get two, thrust out his chest and bragged, “It’s from a lady.”
“What? No lady would write to you!” Kyle teased.
“Well, one did,” Troy retorted. “And I don’t see you reading a letter from any female!”
There was a round of laughter and then Ethan asked, “What’s her name?”
Troy looked down at the page and smiled. “Emily Gardener. And she’s interested in corresponding with me.”
“Oooh, corresponding,” the other men teased.
“Were they like this when I sent you a letter?” Julie asked, leaning close to Andrew and speaking softly.
He nodded. “They were worse,” he said. “I learned quickly not to tell them anything.”
Julie smiled as he took her hand in his and casually kissed her fingers.
“It was worth the teasing,” he added.
“Hopefully Troy will write a decent reply to her and then I won’t be the only woman in this camp,” Julie said.
Andrew looked uncertain about that. He shrugged. “Well, we can hope.”
For a week after that night, Julie was so busy that she hardly had time to think. It seemed that in their absence, a few of the men had caught a stomach bug, and they were laid up for days, vomiting and sweating to the point that Julie was run off her feet trying to see to them all.
“I’ve never felt so horrible,” Kevin Munson, a quiet man who usually never spoke, said as Julie wrung out a cloth for his forehead. “Where did this thing come from?”
“I’m not sure,” she said, gently wiping his bearded face. “I’m sure it will pass soon. These things never last long.”
Luckily, she had replenished her store of medicines in town. Feverfew for the fever and headache, ginger and other remedies for the vomiting, and sweet tea to keep the men from dehydrating.
Those who weren’t sick helped out as much as they could, but it was her job, after all, to make sure that they were all healthy.
It went on without abatement for about five days and by then, Julie was exhausted.
“You can’t keep running around like this,” Andrew said one morning as Julie sat by the fire, sipping her coffee. She’d lost track of how many mugs of the stuff she’d had in the last day or so. “When did you last sleep?”
Turning tired eyes on him, she shrugged. “I don’t know, but I think they should start to improve soon. Some of their fevers have finally broken.”
“Wonderful,” Andrew said, taking the mug from her hands. “Then you can go and get some rest.”
“But—” she protested.
He shook his head. “I’ll look after them.”
Andrew and the others had been wonderful during this time. They had helped her with soiled sheets, cleaning the sick and sitting beside them, spooning the tea between their dry, cracked lips. And now here he was, offering to do even more.
“I can’t—” she began, but he put a finger on her lips, silencing her.