Johanna Lindsey - A Man to Call My Own

The result of that robbery, aside from their depleted funds, was that Amanda flatly refused to travel any farther by train. Not that the train would have taken them much farther, but they disembarked at the next town and took a stage from there instead. The stage, of course, didn't follow the same route as the train. It headed east, though it would resume a northwesterly direction after the next stop.

But it never reached its next stop. The driver, after being harangued by Amanda every few minutes about the bumpy ride, started drinking from a flask of liquor he kept under his seat, got thoroughly drunk, and got himself and his passengers thoroughly lost. For two days he tried without luck to find the road back to his scheduled route.

It was incredible that the coach didn't break down, without a decent road to travel on. It was incredible, too, that the driver didn't just take off without them, he was so furious with himself and Amanda, for driving him to drink. It was the scent of fried chicken that finally led them to a homestead where they got directions to the nearest town.

And that was where they were currendy stranded, because the driver did abandon them at that point, and his coach as well, since he figured he was going to lose his job anyway. He simply unhitched one of the six horses and rode off on it without a single word. Actually, he'd said two words, mumbled them rather while Amanda was shouting at him for an explanation as he prepared to depart. She wouldn't have heard him say, "good riddance," but Marian did.

Unfortunately, it wasn't just a small town he left them in, but a town that was barely populated. Of the fourteen original buildings, only three were still occupied and doing business. It was a case of misguided speculation. The founder of the town had thought the railroad would be passing that way and had hoped to make a small fortune when it did. But the railroad bypassed them, the founder moved on to speculate elsewhere, and the people who had set up businesses there slowly sold them or abandoned them.

The three buildings still open for business were the saloon, which doubled as a general store since the owner happened to be good friends with a supplier so still got a shipment of goods every so often, a bakery that managed to get some grain from a farmer in the area, and a boardinghouse that called itself a hotel and was run by the baker.

It wasn't really surprising that of the few occupants, not one knew how to drive a stagecoach or was willing to try to figure it out. The stage was left parked where it had been abandoned, in front of the hotel. Someone had been kind enough to unhitch the rest of the horses from it, but since there was no food for them in the abandoned stable, they were set loose to feed in a field of overgrown grass behind the town—and wander off if they were so inclined.

That was after Amanda insisted that she could drive the stagecoach to get them out of there. Having had a look at the room in the hotel where they were going to have to stay, and finding it to be the worst lodgings they had encountered yet, Amanda had been absolutely determined to get out of that town immediately, or at least, before they had to sleep in that horrid room.

Marian didn't care for their lodgings either. The sheets on the single bed had holes in them and might have been white once, but were a moldy gray now. There was a round hole in one wall as if someone had sent his fist through it. The rug on the floor was a breeding nest for fleas since an old dog had been living in the room. You could stand there and watch the fleas bouncing around on the rug, waiting for their host to come take his daily nap. And there was no telling what the splotches on the floor had come from.

But no matter how much they hated the idea of staying there, Amanda's alternate plan wasn't worth considering even if she could have gotten the stage to move. She couldn't. She did frustrate herself trying though.

Marian and Ella Mae simply stood on the porch of the hotel and watched. They weren't about to get in that coach with Miss Know-It-All driving it. The few townsfolk had a good laugh watching, too, before they went back into their respective buildings. And Marian and Ella Mae spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning their room so it would be at least somewhat tolerable to sleep in.

They were stranded indeed, and had no idea for how long. No telegraph available there, no stage line, no extra saddles to be had in case they considered riding out on the extra horses, no carriage to rent that they could have handled, and no guide to lead them back toward the railroad anyway.

Amanda, of course, complained about their new circumstances from morning till night. Mentioning that it was exactly such complaining that had gotten them stranded in the first place was pointless. And although Amanda made it sound as if they were never going to see civilization again, Marian was more optimistic, especially after the baker remarked that stagecoaches were too valuable simply to abandon, and someone would come looking for the vehicle to get it back in service.

Marian didn't doubt that their aunt would be looking for them, too, or have someone looking for them. She was probably going to be furious with them for setting out on tlieir own and causing her extra difficulties in finding them. Not a good way to start out with this relative neither of them knew, who was now their guardian.

FOUR DAYS HAD COME and gone in that dismal, soon-to-be ghost town. With only a few old-timers about, or at least, no men that Amanda could possibly get jealous over if they happened to pay Marian any attention, Marian became lax in keeping her spectacles shoved up the bridge of her nose. It was a luxury being able to see clearly all of the time, rather than only when she peered over the rims of the spectacles, or removed them.

She had been wearing spectacles she didn't need for about three years. The idea had come to her when she'd found a pair and curiously tried them on. She'd caught her reflection, and the change in her appearance was so dramatic, she'd gone home that day to complain of vision problems and headaches and as a result had been told absently by her father to take care of it. She did, and had her own pair of spectacles a month later, as well as a few spare pairs.

She'd been very proud of that idea. She'd already been trying to change her appearance from her sister's, so they would no longer resemble each other even a little. She wore her hair in a completely different style. Amanda had already started using some makeup back then. Marian still didn't use any. Amanda preferred clothes in the height of style, yet still somewhat flashy. Marian went widi stylish, but toned-down clothes in less becoming colors.

That still hadn't been enough, though, to make her "unnoticeable," which was the goal she'd been shooting for. Until her next bright idea. The result was a pair of spectacles that when in proper position magnified the size of her eyes, giving her an owlish, unbecoming look. Of course she couldn't see a thing through them, everything being a blur, which caused her to seem quite accident-prone. And people naturally tended to stay clear of people who bumped into things on a regular basis.

Now, the three dogs in town gave warning that someone was approaching. The barking was far off in the distance though, and since those dogs seemed to bark at nothing and each other on a regular basis, Marian didn't really pay attention. She was reading an old newspaper she'd found on the porch of the hotel, only because it was a blistering hot day and there was a slight breeze coming down the main, or rather, only street.

She did take notice, however, when each of the townsfolk came out of their respective buildings and started staring toward the entrance of the town. They apparently could tell the difference in the sound of the barking, to know that the animals weren't just making noise because they could, but had found something of real interest.