The way Caroline had to guard her property made her feel like a one-legged man trying to stamp out prairie fires. She couldn’t be everywhere at once, but for the most part the stragglers were coming from the south, so she found herself patrolling that border to turn them around before they got any ideas. Here she was, the possessor of a tract of land that she’d yet to explore, and the mystery excited her.
She’d been up and down the east bank of the river, which looked steep enough to prevent flooding but gentle enough to travel easily. The land was capped with a majestic apex near the center of the property, the natural place in Caroline’s opinion to build a house, but would it be the best place for a boardinghouse? Where exactly would the railroad come through? She needed to see if there were maps at the fort before she picked the perfect spot. Would the railroad company buy part of her land for a depot? Perhaps that would give her the funds to start construction.
On the northern riverbed, she found ragged ravines. Caroline was the child who’d never gone to sleep without first looking under the bed and behind the curtains—a tendency made stronger by her ornery sister’s pranks—and unexplored areas were bothersome to her peace of mind. Before nightfall, she’d have to hop down in each ravine and see what it held. Only a girl who’d grown up on the prairie would feel such anxiety when her view was obstructed, but Caroline wasn’t one to shirk from the question. She’d explore as soon as she was convinced no one else was coming.
Honestly, she hadn’t had much trouble convincing the men to keep moving. The fact that there was already a garden in helped settle the debate of whether she’d been the first one there or not. Several had less than kind words for her, assuming that she’d cheated and had been hiding there early, but she knew the charges were false and that she had witnesses to vouch for her. She hoped that Amber was able to settle her disputes as easily.
Caroline rode Hardtack slowly around the two-mile perimeter of her farm. She found a nice well dug near what she was already considering the homestead site. Wedged between the canyon and the river, she’d yet to meet any neighbors. So far, everyone coming from the south had still been looking for land, which meant all the plots around her were spoken for.
How had Frisco fared? Did he find a place to put his town? Had he settled in the vicinity? It would have been convenient to have a town nearby, especially if Frisco was in charge of it. If he wasn’t still angry with her, that was. He’d been irate when he’d left, but what was she supposed to do? Of course she would stand her ground. Hadn’t he said how he’d admired her strength and resolve? Hadn’t he accused her of forgetting who she was?
Surely he’d get over it. It had been a trying day. Once things settled down . . .
Getting off Hardtack, Caroline stood at the cornerstone of her homestead and looked over the green expanse stretching before her. Amber had taken out this way. Had she been able to claim this plot, or did she have to go farther to find available land?
Caroline stood on her tiptoes at the invisible line and shaded her eyes. Someone was coming over the gentle rise. It was Amber, waving both hands over her head. Dragging Hardtack behind her, Caroline ran toward her friend, meeting her and grabbing her hands.
“Did you get it? Is this yours?” Caroline asked.
Amber nodded. Her eyes shone. “Can you believe it? We’ll be neighbors.”
Living next door to her best friend, being there for her and Bradley as they started a new life together . . . Caroline couldn’t think of a better outcome. She’d done it. She’d secured herself a place in this new land.
Another horseman appeared on the horizon. No longer were they running. Instead, the weary animal, slick with foam, plodded across the grassland. One after another they wandered by with the same story. They’d raced far and fast, but there was nowhere left for them. Was she interested in selling her claim? They’d pay cash money. Caroline had even been offered a marriage proposal. He’d treat her good, build the house, and do the planting if she’d be willing to be partners on the land. She’d attracted masculine attention over her years, but nothing quite so mercenary.
Amber waved her hand at the man as he approached, motioning him off her property. With a drop of his shoulders, he turned the horse and rode off, disappearing with the curve of the land.
“It’s so sad,” Amber said. “Have you had many on your place?”
“A few.” Caroline’s jaw tightened. The first had been the hardest to drive off. After that, it had gotten easier. But she couldn’t be gone for long.
She looked over her shoulder. Their celebration could wait, because another contestant had arrived. A Conestoga wagon rolled over the crest on Amber’s side of the field.
“Excuse me,” Amber called out. “This property is already spoken for.”
The driver straightened on the bench, even as his wife seemed to shrink next to him. “We are claiming it, fair and square.” He looked at the cornerstone on the ground. “We were here on this side first.” He wasn’t being belligerent, just stating what he thought were the facts.
A girl of about eight years poked her head out of the hole in the canvas, then seeing Amber and Caroline, she darted back into the wagon. The woman pushed aside her hair with a hand already stained with dirt.
Amber’s hand reached up to fiddle with the top button of her blouse. Caroline knew that sign. Uncertainty. She stepped to Amber’s side. She understood the sorrow, but Amber and Bradley needed the land, and there was no way for both them and this family to claim it.
Without her prompting, Amber reached the same conclusion.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but I’ve had my stake in for hours. This is my neighbor, and she can verify my claim.”
The man didn’t move, only studied her as if he was waiting for her to slip up and expose herself in a lie. When that didn’t happen, he shook his reins. “C’mon, Nellie. We’re not home yet. We have to find somewhere else.”
Caroline’s throat tightened as she watched the woman wipe her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Amber said. “My fiancé and I are going to live here and farm. Otherwise I’d let you have it. . . .”
The man didn’t say a word. Only slapped the reins on the back of his draft team and bounced over the rough ground, hopefully to somewhere unclaimed.
Caroline linked arms with Amber. Was every victory marred by sorrow for the vanquished? She thought again of Frisco riding away from the land he’d wanted to claim. How did one find the resolve to continue? Caroline stiffened, pulling Amber upright with her. Caroline was the daughter of a major in the cavalry. Her father had faced darker questions and hadn’t wavered in his resolve. Endure through today, and then another test would begin.
A rider was coming quickly toward them. With this many people still wandering and looking for land, staying away from her plot was foolhardy. Caroline shouldn’t linger. She had to get back to her property or risk finding it under another man’s boots, but she hated to leave Amber to face another challenger alone.
Thankfully, it was Bradley.
“Bradley, we got it! We got it. We got the land!” Amber cheered.
Caroline stepped aside as Bradley slung himself out of the saddle and snatched Amber up in an embrace.
“You, Caroline? You got a plot too?” he asked.
“Yes, I should go back—”
“Wait,” Bradley said. “There’s a nice German family on your west. Name of Schneider. They’re willing to let both of you bunk down with them once it gets dark. Do that. If I hear of either of you sleeping out here unprotected . . .”
“Schneider?” Amber nodded. “I’ll find them as soon as you’re gone.”
“Thanks, Bradley,” Caroline said. “That’s a comfort.”
He managed to tear his eyes away from Amber to grin at Caroline. “We’re in this together. To the homesteaders!” He gave a coyote-like yelp before turning again to Amber, leaving Caroline to go back to her property.
She rode a quick jaunt around the high ground again and then, finding no challengers, decided to explore the lower banks of the river. It would be better if it were done before dark. Not that she expected to sleep much by some strangers’ family fire, but she’d sleep better knowing that no one was hiding down there.
Coming along the rough side of the property, Caroline dismounted and walked Hardtack down the slope. The red earth crumbled away from the bank, which was dotted with bright emerald spots of spring grass. The ravine didn’t go far, but it was deep enough that she couldn’t see the high ground from its floor. In fact, only a narrow view of the river was visible through its opening. It might be a good place to hide supplies, unless the river rose.
Perhaps tomorrow she or Amber could ride over to Darlington to retrieve the supplies they’d purchased. Before then, she could set up a fire pit and gather some wood. Deadwood was plentiful along the riverbank, so she didn’t have to wait until she had an axe to get started.
Hardtack’s tail swished. She needed to find something to do with him too. A horse standing in the open after nightfall was an easy target. Down below the riverbank looked like the most promising place to hide him. If she could tie him into one of the washouts that wasn’t visible from the high ground . . .
Caroline rounded the bank and stopped in her tracks. Was that a door? She blinked, then shaded her eyes, but the scene didn’t change. It was a door, but where did it lead? Into the ground?
She rested a hand on the sandstone ledge and looked behind her. She was still within her boundaries. This was her land, but she hadn’t expected to find a door built into the side of the hill. Now that she looked at it, she could tell the roof was made of tin sheets and covered with sod. Sod bricks finished out the wall on either side of the door, which was held closed with a latch on the outside. No lock that she could see.
Down in the shade, the damp earth gave her a chill as she knocked. A corner of the door had been chewed away by something. A pack rat? She wasn’t surprised when no one answered. Somehow, she could sense that she was all alone. Someone had built this dugout and hadn’t returned. Someone . . . like Frisco.
Caroline’s mind reeled. He’d spent days out here before the race, planting crops and digging a well. That was what he’d told her. He hadn’t mentioned a house. She lifted the latch and pushed the door open. Standing to the side to let in the sunlight, she surveyed the little room.
The raw stone walls looked to be sandstone and unlikely to crumble. In fact, they were unlikely to give even if hit with a pickax. An army-issued blanket covered the cot against one wall, and a simple wooden stool sat against the other. A shelf over the bed held a lantern, a hand mirror, and a stack of books. A pipe stretched up from a small stove through the roof for a chimney.
Tying Hardtack to the door, Caroline entered and lit the lamp. The books were law books. Frisco’s, definitely. Besides that, the rest of the floor space was covered in crates and barrels. She picked up a turnip, and her stomach growled. Bags of flour and sugar told her that there’d be something for her to cook. He’d planned well.
And she’d taken it.
Choking doubts assailed her. The items in here represented a substantial investment. While Frisco might find another plot of land, he wouldn’t find another piece that had a house, a garden, and a well on it. Even if she owned the land, all of this was his property. And yet something told her that he’d gladly let her cart off all his supplies if she’d give the one hundred and sixty acres back.
But where would that leave her? If she gave the land to Frisco, she’d have to drag herself back to the fort and into her bedroom next to Daisy’s. And where would she go from there? Back to her grandmother’s? There was nowhere that belonged to her, nowhere that she belonged.
Frisco had all the advantages. He was a man with a career, a reputation, and enough nerve to try anything. He’d known the risks of investing before the land belonged to him. He’d had an unfair advantage, and if he wasn’t able to capitalize on it, he shouldn’t complain. She’d beat him here fair and square. Besides, if she handed it over to him, what would he think? It would only confirm his opinion that she was another weak and simpering lady.
She would keep the land, and he’d hate her for it. Caroline rubbed her forehead. She hadn’t wanted Frisco for an enemy. Was it worth it? What she had to do was focus on the future and how she imagined this territory would look in five years. By then she’d have accomplishment, respect, and property free and clear. It would be her world because she would have built it. Until then, if she had to live in a house built by his hands, she couldn’t be blamed. He’d left it on her property.
Were those raisins on the floor? Caroline bent and squinted in the poor light. While the blankets on the cot were mussed, everything else was in place. Had a rat gotten inside? There was a scratching noise from beneath the cot. Caroline lifted her skirt and hurried out the door. From the sound of it, that was one big rat.
She gripped the plank of wood that formed the doorframe and peeked around the edge. A black nose and two eyes watched her from beneath the cot. She reached into the room and picked up a poker leaning against the potbellied stove. Her father would laugh at her for arming herself against a rodent, but this was no ordinary-sized vermin.
There was an odd high-pitched cry from the animal. With one eye closed, she aimed the poker, ready for her chance. But suddenly a black-and-white mammal bounded out from under the cot.
Caroline lowered the poker. It wasn’t a rat, or a dog. It was a tiny black-and-white goat, bleating at her with its pink tongue flapping.
“Oh, you’re precious.” She propped the poker in the corner and knelt to get a better look. The little thing walked right up to her and bleated, like it was reciting all the hardships it had endured being there alone. Had Frisco left it locked up? But then she looked again at the door. The gap was big enough for the goat to wiggle through. And on second thought, those weren’t raisins on the floor.
“Caroline!”
Hardtack neighed at the familiar voice. Caroline steeled her spine as she scooped up the bleating kid. She’d only forgotten about Frisco for a moment and was already faced with another unpleasant but inevitable confrontation.