The wagon team secured, Beth and Lily entered the general store. The place was empty; the small bell on the door alerted Mr. and Mrs. Zimmerman that customers had arrived. Obviously happy to have patrons, Zimmerman took the list of supplies Beth handed him and left to fill the order, leaving his wife to keep the girls company.
“Oh, we’re so happy to see you!” Mrs. Zimmerman said after exchanging the usual pleasantries. “Everything in town has been very… quiet. No one comes around anymore. We can see the smithy across the street, and it’s the same there. Business is bad.” She shook her head. “With that last family leaving the new settlement after that Washington family got killed, we see nobody. Everyone is so scared.”
She lowered her voice. “Some people say that the reason that black man was killed was that he took advantage of a white woman back east. That’s why those Klansmen came here.”
Beth blanched and turned, assuring herself that Lily was still looking at fabric samples on the other side of the store and was out of earshot. Beth did not want her sister to hear of such a story, for Lily was a bigger gossip even than their mother. She returned to the storekeeper’s wife.
“Mrs. Zimmerman, I never heard any such thing. Who said that about Mr. Washington?”
“Umm, I overheard one of Mr. Denny’s men—Thorpe, I think it was—say that,” the woman admitted.
Beth grew angry as she recalled the confrontation at the cemetery. Thorpe was the leader of the men who tried to stop the funeral. “I wouldn’t put too much stock in what Mr. Thorpe has to say. The Washingtons were members of our church, remember, and no one had a bad word to say about them.”
“True.” The woman was abashed. “They always paid cash— never asked for credit. And they were always respectful to me. Maybe Washington was confused with someone else? Yes, that must be what happened. Slaves all look the same to me and, I guess, to most folks. Oh, it’s awful, just awful! Those poor people. I can’t stop thinking about that poor little boy.”
Beth was both touched and frustrated with Mrs. Zimmerman. It seemed the woman was casting about for any explanation of the tragedy that would prove it was done by outsiders. The alternative was apparently too frightening for her to contemplate.
The alternative had occupied Beth’s mind since the funeral. The actions of the B&R hands like Denny, Thorpe, and Wilkerson—all members of Denny’s gang—seemed to point to a very frightening conclusion. Denny and his people seemed capable of perpetrating the outrage; they had been members of Quantrill’s infamous Raiders after all. The last few weeks had challenged Beth’s deeply held beliefs about the war, but her opinion of bushwhackers had been justified by unimpeachable sources: Confederate veterans like William and Fitz were disgusted by bushwhackers and disavowed their actions. She felt safe to mistrust Denny.
This led her thoughts to George Whitehead. Beth could not shake the nagging feeling that it wasn’t a matter of
Just then, the front door bell rang, the woman before her blanched, and Beth’s conjectures were proven correct.
“George!” cried Lily.
Beth turned to see George Whitehead close the door. With unclouded eyes, Beth could now see things in him that she had missed before. George was undeniably a good-looking man, but there was a hardness in his eyes that his smile could never completely hide. His confident walk was more like an arrogant swagger. He had nothing good to say about anyone who was not of use to him, and he demanded deference from others through fear.
Will Darcy didn’t do that, Beth realized. William earned the admiration of others by his deeds.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” Whitehead said, tipping his hat. “Doing some shopping, I see?”
Lily answered him. “Yes, Father sent us to pick up some supplies. It’s been so boring lately! Father won’t let us go anywhere. Maybe you could talk to him?”
“Lily,” Beth calmly admonished her. “I’m sure George is far too busy for such a silly request. With things being as they are in town,” she turned to Whitehead as she spoke, “Father is only being properly cautious in seeing we’re
“Very wise of him,” Whitehead drawled.
Beth continued. “It’s uncomfortable to work a field with a gun belt on, but such are the days we’re living in now.” For some reason, Beth felt she had to give Whitehead the gentle warning. The slight narrowing of his eyes showed that the message was received.
Lily then called Whitehead’s attention to a piece of lace she had been admiring. This gave Beth the opportunity to watch Mrs. Zimmerman again. She quickly learned that her initial estimation of the woman was wrong. By the mixture of fear and suspicion in her eye, it was apparent that Mrs. Zimmerman was not ignorant of the possibility that the Washingtons were attacked by one of their own. The shopkeeper’s wife was terrified. When Mr. Zimmerman joined them a moment later, his pale, nervous expression showed that he was in full agreement with his spouse’s fears.
“Good… good afternoon, Mr. Whitehead,” Zimmerman was able to manage. “Umm… what can I do for you?”
“Nothing, Zimmerman, just stopped on by to see how things were.” Whitehead seemed amused by the shakiness in the proprietor’s voice. Beth noticed his enjoyment of the Zimmermans’ fear with a sinking feeling. Now, with complete certainty, she knew George Whitehead was an evil man. She wanted nothing more than to be out of his presence.
“Do you have our order, sir?” Beth asked Zimmerman. Beth settled the bill and called Lily over to help. Despite Beth’s protests, Whitehead insisted on carrying the packages to their wagon. Back up on the seat, the two Bennet girls took their leave of Whitehead.
“Won’t you come over for dinner soon, George?” Lily begged.
“Well, I’ve been pretty busy lately,” George begged off, “but who knows? I might find the time to come by the place when you least expect me.” He grinned in that lopsided way of his, his eyes still cold, and Beth felt a shot of fear course through her. Whitehead tipped his hat and reentered the store.
As Beth took a moment to settle her emotions, Lily took the opportunity to gaze about the town. “Beth, look!” she hissed.
At Younge’s Saloon, three young women, dressed in the usual style of dancehall girls, were on the balcony waving at a couple of cowboys riding away. Their raucous laughter could easily be heard.
“What pretty dresses!” Lily cried. “Wouldn’t you love to have one of those?”
“Lily! Be quiet!” Beth turned the team away from the barroom and urged them along the road home. “Don’t be a simpleton! You know what those sinful girls do for a living. They’re fallen women!”
“I know that! I know they’re whores,” Lily lightly responded.
“Lily—your language!”
“Sorry. I know those… women are going to the nether region. I do listen in church, you know.” At Beth’s questioning look, she added, “Well, most of the time. I only like the dresses. I’d love to own pretty dresses, one for each day, and do nothing but sit around telling other people what to do. Like Miss Gaby or Miss Anne.” Lily waved her hands. “‘Smith, fetch me some tea!’”
Beth laughed. “Yes, I can just see you. You were made to be a lady of leisure.”
Lily tossed her head. “Don’t laugh! I’m sure I am. It would be just the thing. Oh, what a life! Better than what we have now.”
“Father’s worked very hard to provide for us, you ungrateful creature!”
“Oh, I know, but he’s not the only one who works! Chores, chores, chores. I hate it! We work all day until we’re too tired to do anything else at night but go to bed. Day after day. Feed the chickens. Milk the cow. Churn the butter. I hate churning butter!”
“And you’re so uncommonly good at it.” Beth couldn’t resist. Lily did have the most adorable pout on her face, after all.
“You always say that! Pooh!”
Beth reached over and took Lily’s hand. “Maybe I do. Still, you have to admit our life isn’t so bad. We have food on the table and a warm bed to sleep in every night.” Beth lowered her voice. “Many can’t say the same.”
Lily nodded. “You’re right.” She thought for a moment. “Do you want to ride once we get home? We can practice jumping rails with Buster and Turner again. That’s so much fun!”
