Chapter Seven--Directions to Robin's House

     Robin arose early the next morning, Saturday. This was the day Cameron had asked her to go riding at the XQL. The sun was rising over what was apparently going to be a lovely late spring day, and she was looking forward to having an enjoyable time.
     She had told Aunt Martha about it, of course, and she was pleased. Robin’s aunt liked Cameron though Len Kramer was still her preference. The older lady was always an early riser, so she was prepared to help fix breakfast, if Robin wanted her to.
     “It’s ok, Aunt Martha, let me do it,” Robin said, and even smiled at her aunt. “I’ll fix breakfast for you, too.”
     “Oh, you don’t have to do that, dear,” Aunt Martha said, but she was obviously happy that Robin would do it.
     Robin was planning on fixing a good old fashioned breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, biscuits and gravy, freshly squeezed orange juice, with homemade butter to smother everything in. She hardly ever had breakfasts like that, but this was a special occasion and she wanted to do it up right.
     Aunt Martha helped her get the fire stoked for the oven and stove, and Robin had the biscuits cooking about a quarter to eight. She was going to wait until Cameron arrived before starting the bacon and eggs; they wouldn’t take long. She squeezed the orange juice; Aunt Martha did help by churning the butter. Robin was feeling good that morning; she even hummed a happy tune while she worked.
     She expected Cameron to be on time, but when it was a little after 8, she wasn’t alarmed. He probably had ranch chores to do, and it was a seven mile jaunt into Whitewater. At 8:15 she became a little concerned, and Aunt Martha asked her, “What time was he supposed to be here, dear?”
     “8, Aunt Martha. I’m sure he just got tied up.”
     8:30, no Cameron. 8:45 and he still wasn’t there. Robin was getting worried now that something might have happened to him. Or maybe he had stood her up. No, he wouldn’t do that, something must have happened…
     Aunt Martha was sad for Robin, thinking that her poor niece had been stood up, and that she would die an old maid. She’d made comments like that a couple of times to Robin, who would just roll her eyes and smile. Becoming an old maid was the last thing she was worried about. But at 9, Aunt Martha said, with a touch of dejection in her voice, “It doesn’t like he’s coming.”
     “I guess not. I hope nothing bad happened. Well, I’m hungry so I’m going to go ahead and fix something.” And, concerned mainly for Cameron, she went into the kitchen.
     Since she had everything set up for bacon and eggs, she went on and fixed that. Just before, she finished eating, there was a knock on the door. “I’ll get it,” she said, thinking that it might be Cameron.
     It wasn’t. It was a man she didn’t know, but obviously a cowboy. “Miss Morrow?”
     “Yes?”
     “I’m Dudley Painter from the XQL. Cameron Collins sent me in to tell you that he was almighty sorry for missin’ the breakfast this morning, it pained him more’n he could tell you, but one of our hosses went in to labor early this mornin’ and the poor filly is havin’ a real rough go of it. Mr. Cameron just couldn’t get away. He sends his regrets and asks yore forgiveness, and hopes that you’ll be willin’ to mebbe see him again sometime.”
     “Oh,” Robin said. “Well, of course. Thank you for coming. I was concerned when he didn’t show up, but I figured something must have happened. I’m glad it wasn’t him. Is the horse and colt going to make it?”
     Dudley shook his head in a doubtful gesture. “Don’t rightly know, miss, but it didn’t look good when I left ‘bout an hour ago. Well, agin, Mr. Cameron is really sorry. I’m shore he’ll be seein’ you soon.”
     “Please tell him that I understand, and I hope everything is ok with the mother and baby.”
     “Thankee, miss.”
     Robin shut the door. Well, so much for that. Maybe we can do it again, though… Aunt Martha came in and Robin explained.
     “Well, that’s a shame, dear. But those are the kinds of things that happen on a ranch, you know.”
     Robin smiled softly. She felt a lot better now that she knew what had happened. “Yes, I remember, Aunt Martha. I remember the time that Uncle Ben had to stay up all night in sub-zero weather to deliver a calf.” She laughed. “Took him a week to thaw out.”
     Aunt Martha laughed, too, then wiped a tear from her eye. “Yes, he would do anything he had to. He was such a wonderful man and I miss him.”
     Robin shook her head. Aunt Martha could be such a contradiction, but it did seem like Uncle Ben’s death had mellowed her some. Such a sad event like losing a close loved one would probably do the same to just about anyone.
     Since she wasn’t going out to the ranch, Robin decided to take care of a few other odds and ends that she needed to. One thing that could have waited till Monday but she opted to do that morning was get some more feed for the horses. She and Aunt Martha had three horses in a small stable out back—Roberta and two for the wagon. Feed meant going to Burt and Chris Draeger’s Feed Store, someplace she hadn’t been yet.
     She hitched up the wagon and drove over to Draeger’s. She was a little apprehensive about seeing Burt, but it would be nice to see Chris again. She hadn’t seen either since the ice cream social the Friday before.
     She parked the wagon in front and entered the building. Burt was behind the counter fiddling with something and he stopped. But then nodded and spoke, a little stiffly, but not unkindly, “Miss Morrow. Can I help you?”
     “Yes, I need 100 pounds of oats and 100 pounds of corn for my horses. And can you load it for me on my wagon?”
     “Yes, of course. I’ll get Chris to do that and he can ride home with you and unload it.”
     “Oh, that would be wonderful. I appreciate that.” And she did. Those feed bags were heavy.
     Burt called Chris and told her what Robin wanted. Chris looked at Robin and smiled. “Hi. Nice to see you again. 200 pounds of horse grub coming right up.” Robin laughed softly. “Do you need any hay?” he asked. “We’ve got that, too.”
     “No, I have plenty, thanks.” In fact, Robin fed the horses mostly hay; it was cheaper. Two hundred pounds of “horse grub” wasn’t really very much, but she only used it for a treat because of the expense.
     While Chris was putting the feed in the wagon, Robin went to the counter to pay for it. Burt was obviously uneasy. “Miss Morrow,” he said hesitantly.
     Robin just watched him.
     “I, uh, really want to apologize fer what I did t’ other night. Sometimes I jest can’t control my temper like I ought to. I hope you’ll forgive me, although I wouldn’t blame ye if ye didn’t.”
     “Of course I will, Mr. Draeger. Frankly, I probably deserved it. I called you some pretty unkind things and I apologize for that.”
     “Well, there ain’t never no reason to hit a woman. I really am sorry.”
     Robin smiled at him. “Ok. It’s over and done with and forgotten. All right?”
     Burt smiled and nodded. “All right. Thankee. Incidentally, there won’t be no charge for that feed. Least I can do to make some amends.”
     “No,” Robin said. “I can’t let you do that.”
     “Well, I ain’t gonna take yore money. What are ye gonna do about it?”
     Robin smiled at him. She knew it would make him feel better to do this for her. “Well,” she said, “If you don’t take my money, I just might have to slap you.”
     Burt guffawed. “Well, I ain’ta takin’ yore money, so start swingin’.” And Robin laughed, too.
     Chris came in about then, having finished the loading. “Can I get in on the joke?” he said, hearing his father and Robin both laughing.
     “We’re arguing again,” Robin told him. “He won’t take my money, so I told him I was going to slap him.”
     “Hmm,” Chris said. “Think I’ll stay out of that one. Let me get you out of here before feathers start flying.” Robin laughed.
     She looked at Burt. “Thank you, Mr. Draeger.”
     He just nodded and smiled.
     Robin and Chris left. Neither of them heard Burt Draeger mutter under his breath, “Filthy rotten whore. I’d like to slap that snotty smile right off her face…”

     Chris helped Robin into the wagon. “Are you going to the party tonight at Jennie’s place?” he asked her as they rode towards the house.
     “Yes, I’m planning on it. It starts at 7, doesn’t it?”
     “Well, I think she said anytime after 6:30. Should be a lot to eat and drink. I think she invited half the town.” Robin laughed softly, and then again when he said, “Are you going to bring some of these oats and corn with you for folks to eat?”
     “Oh, yes, I’m going to make my special—horse oats cookies.” Chris laughed.
     “Well, you should be able to make a lot of them.”
     He pulled up outside the storeroom at the back of Aunt Martha’s house. He hopped down and went to the back of the wagon to unload the feed. “Thanks, Chris, I really appreciate you doing that.”
     “Oh, it’s no problem. Builds strong muscles,” he said with a grin. Then, before he picked up the first bag, he looked at her and asked, ”Can I take you to dinner Monday night? I know several thoroughly awful restaurants in this town but I’m going to have to eat at one of them, so if I must, it would be nice to have some pleasant company.”
     She smiled. “Oh, the restaurants aren’t that bad.” Then she said, “Sometimes…”
     He chuckled. “Is that a yes or a no to my question?”
     “It’s a yes.”
     “Thank you,” he replied. “I’ll get to be seen with the prettiest woman in town.”
     “Oh, sure,” Robin said with a touch of sarcasm in her voice, but did, of course, enjoy the compliment.
     Chris then unloaded the bags of feed and stacked them in the storeroom. “That’s 400 pounds in less than 30 minutes,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll be an iron man in no time.”
     “Probably,” Robin answered. “But I really do appreciate it.” 
     He waved it away. “I do it all the time, frankly, and I’m glad to do it.” He grinned again. “Gets me out of the store.” Then he hesitated and said, “I don’t mean to be pushing my luck here, and I’m really not asking you for a date. You’ve already granted me that, but I’m wondering, would it be easier for you if I came and picked you up tonight for the party? I mean, it would save you having to saddle Roberta or hitch up the horse team.”
     Robin considered a minute. He had a point. She was going to make a couple of dishes and they would be difficult to carry on Roberta, and hitching up the horse team was a pain, especially for such a short trip. “Yes, thank you. That would save me some trouble. But,” she said, with a pixie smile on her face, “I’ve got to be home no later than midnight, so don’t you keep me beyond that.”
     “Midnight?” Chris asked. “How did you swing that? It was 10 PM last week.”
     “Well, Aunt Martha and I worked out a compromise after that debacle. 11 PM on weekdays and 12 PM on weekends.”
     Chris made a face. “Aren’t you old enough, I mean…”
     Robin returned the face. “Yeah, I think I am, but Aunt Martha…well, she’s always been strict, but now, I’m all she’s got and she worries about me and I don’t want her to do that. So I don’t mind, if it makes her feel better. And midnight is plenty late.”
     Chris nodded. “Yeah, that’s true, and I can understand that, and I think it’s good of you to be mindful of her that way. Anyway, I’ve got to get back to the store. See you…about a quarter to 7? Is that ok?”
     “I’ll be ready.”
     She watched him go and then waved when he looked back and did so. She liked Chris and was anxious for the night to come. Take THAT, Cameron Collins…and Len Kramer…and…Lucifer Bering…
     …and Rob Conners?…She sighed. Rob was dead…but not yet in her heart…

     That afternoon, Aunt Martha asked Robin if she could go to the grocery store and get a couple of things. Since the store was only about three or four blocks from the house, Robin decided to walk rather than go to the trouble of saddling up Roberta. I could use the exercise anyway. As she was walking along Main Street towards the grocer’s, she idly saw a man walking in her direction. She didn’t pay much attention; passing people on the sidewalk was a common occurrence, of course. But as the two of them neared, she glanced at him and noticed that he was looking at her, and with a peculiar expression. He stopped in front of her, tipped his hat, and with a smile, said, “Excuse me, I’m pretty new here, can I ask you for directions?”
     Robin looked at him. She saw, when he lifted his hat, that he had dark sandy hair, perhaps closer to brown, and he wore it dry but neat, except for a comma that fell over his forehead when he removed his hat. Mid-30s maybe, blue eyes that were friendly, a complexion that indicated time in the sun, slender nose, medium lips, strong chin. Robin was a little startled at his smile because, when he did, it reminded her very much of Rob’s smile, although his other features didn’t necessarily do so.
     But she smiled back. “Sure. Where do you need directions to?”
     And then he grinned, and it went deep into her, because he did look like Rob then. “Your house.”
     Robin smiled back at him, and decided to play, too. “Well,” she said, pointing, “if you go straight down this street, cross Broadway, go a couple more blocks, you’ll come to Madame Marie’s. You can find me there every night.”
     He laughed softly. “Well, then I’ll be there tonight and every night following.” Then his smile softened. “Although I bet I’d have to wait in a long line and pay a very high price.”
     Robin blushed. And then he said, “I’m sorry, that was terribly inappropriate.”
     “No,” she responded, “I’m the one who started that. And thank you for what I think was meant as a compliment.”
     “It definitely was. And Madame Marie’s is the last place I would ever expect to find you.”
     Robin blushed slightly again, and said, “Thank you.” Then, still a little playful because she liked this man, she said, “And how would you know that?”
     “A man can just tell. I’ve been to at least 3,000 whorehouses in my life and never seen anybody that looked like you.”
     Robin laughed. “I think you’re snookering me. If I’m not that kind, then you definitely aren’t.”
     “Well,” he replied, “lest I leave a false impression, I will admit that I’ve never been in one of those places in my life.” He visibly shuddered, though it was probably feigned. “I’d be afraid, too.”
     Robin laughed again. “Yeah, I think I would, too.”
     He said, “By the way, my name is Samuel Burke. Sam. And I am new in the area.”
     “Robin Morrow,” Robin replied, holding out her hand, and receiving a firm, but not squeezing, handshake. She liked everything about this man so far, and felt a bit of a rush inside her. “What brings you to Whitewater?”
     “Well, I’m a railroad surveyor for Union Pacific. Because of the mining that’s opened up here, we’re investigating putting a rail line through here and they sent me to try to locate a good route.” He shook his head with a bit of a frown. “I’m afraid it would be extremely difficult to get a line into this valley, so I’ve been looking a little farther south, over the hills yonder.” He motioned to the south with his head. “I found a good area about 10 miles away, but we’d all like to get closer if we could. There’s a possible route maybe 6 to 7 miles away, but I’m going to have to survey it some more.” He smiled a little self-consciously. “That’s probably a whole lot more than you wanted to know about it.”
     “Oh, no, we’re all interested in getting the railroad through Whitewater, or at least as close as possible. You don’t think you could get track through the valley here?”
     He shook his head. “Not without knocking down a bunch of the town. It’s expanded a little too wide, too close to the mountains on both sides. We need at least a 100 foot right of way in terrain like this, and it just isn’t here. And east of here, across the river, it’s even worse.”
     “Well, that’s too bad, but I hope you can find something fairly close by.”
     “I think I will. It looks promising.” He took off his hat, and wiped a little perspiration from his brow with his sleeve. “It’s warm this afternoon,” he commented. “Could I…interest you in a drink?”
     “Well,” Robin said, “I don’t know. I don’t go into saloons, and the diners don’t really serve anything I like. And actually, I couldn’t anyway because I’m on my way to the store to get some things for my aunt. I can’t take a side trip. I’m sorry.” And she was. This man was very attractive to her. He was nice, masculine, but mostly…his smile. Rob’s smile…
     Sam winced. “I apologize. That isn’t what I meant. I was thinking of a cool glass of lemonade at that restaurant across the street. But I understand if you’re busy.” He hesitated, then asked cautiously, “Uh, can we do dinner tonight?”
     It was Robin’s turn to wince. “I’m really sorry. Plans tonight. A party at a friend’s house.” Oh, no, Robin, you’re going to blow it. Ask me one more time, Sam, please…
     “Hmm…” he replied. Tomorrow night, Sam, tomorrow, not Monday… “Well, how about Monday?” he asked.
     Oh, shoot…She gave him a sad smile and shook her head. “Dinner with a friend.” She couldn’t suggest a day, that would be too forward for a woman of that time, at least a lady. It just wasn’t done.
     He nodded, with a soft smile. Rob… “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised that you have a full schedule. Maybe I’ll be able to catch you sometime.” He looked like he was about to go, and Robin doubted he’d ever ask her again.
     She went as far as she could, and maybe a little too far, when she said, “You are welcome to call on me sometime.” Then, fearing she had lessened herself in his eyes, she added, weakly, “I mean, if you’d like to…”
     He grinned. “Well, for that I’d need directions to your house.”
     She laughed softly, relieved. “I think that’s where we began this conversation, wasn’t it.”
     “I think so.”
     She told him the address and how to get there, and he nodded. Their eyes met, and Robin felt a stir inside her once more. He smiled softly…Rob…and said, just as softly, “I would like to call on you soon.”
     And she smiled in return, her heart beating a little more rapidly. “I’d like that, too.”
     “Then I will.” He paused. “I’ll let you go. I hope to see you soon.”
     “Me, too.” And they parted.
     As she got to entrance of the grocery store, Robin looked back briefly, but didn’t see Sam. She made a face, wondered why she felt a little melancholy, then shook her head and went inside the store.

     Chris arrived a little before 6:45, but Robin was ready. She put her two dishes of food on a blanket in the back of the wagon and then got into the seat next to Chris. Not right next to him, but comfortably close. The talked on the way to Jennie Adams’ house, but like most everything else in Whitewater, it was only a few blocks away so they made it in less than five minutes.
     The party was fun, but nothing terribly relevant to this story happened. Chris took her home about 10 PM. They sat in his wagon and talked a few minutes.
     Right before she went in, he said, “7 o’clock Monday night?”
     She smiled. “7 is fine. See you then.” And Robin went on into the house, thinking about Monday night. She liked Chris. But then frowned. He wasn’t Rob. Yet.
     Oh, rats, I left my dishes in the back of the wagon…