The next two weeks became pure joy for Joy. Her hosts happily took her on jaunts across dirt roads that had been forged in the 1800s and were now smooth enough for their horseless carriage to drive on. On one stretch of road they pointed out the ruts of wagon wheels from pioneers long ago. Jake said that his father and stepmother had traveled that very road on their way to the Promised Land, Oregon City.
Joy's heart surged with happiness and she often wished she were alone in the wilderness, but she knew her caring friends would never agree. After all, there were bears and wildcats roaming the mountains. Still, the thought of being completely alone in this vast wilderness, as her father had been in Montana, made her pulse pound.
During the second week of her stay in Oregon, Jake said he and Pauline were traveling to town to buy supplies and asked if she wanted to go. Some of Joy's art supplies were running low and she hoped she could find what she needed in town. She readily agreed, not only because she wanted to replenish her paints, but because she was anxious to explore the town.
Their first stop was the auto supply store. Jake said he always kept extra parts for his automobile because of its penchant for breaking down. While he spoke with the store owner, Pauline and Joy walked across the street, avoiding the many autocars and horse conveyances jamming downtown. The town was much larger than Joy's own little burg of Two Rivers.
Pauline led her to a milliner's shop where the two of them giggled over the latest fashion of bell-shaped cloche hats. The selection included straw ones, felt ones, velvet ones, woolen ones, and on the sides of each were ornamentations of either bows, or flowers, or stitching, or feathers.
Pauline purchased a gray felt cloche encircled with a wide black ribbon and decorated with red silk flowers. It was simply lovely and Joy exclaimed over it. However, to the dismay of the saleswoman, Joy declined buying one for herself. Although she had plenty of money budgeted for her trip, she wasn't one to splurge on non-necessities.
After the milliner's shop they entered the general store a couple of doors down. As in every town, it was a hub of activity. While Pauline picked up jars of pickled apples and other fruits, peering at the contents, Joy stepped to the wide counter behind which a chubby man in a white apron punched amounts into a large, ornate cash register. The register dinged every time he pulled the handle to open the cash drawer. After ringing up an order for a rosy-cheeked, round-faced woman with a baby in one arm and a toddler clinging to her skirt, the proprietor turned his attention on Joy.
"What can I do fer ya, ma'am?" He spoke loudly and his double chin jiggled.
"I was wondering if you carry art supplies. Specifically, I'm looking for paint tubes."
The middle-aged man scratched his chin. "My wifey rearranged that kinda stuff a few days 'go. Art supplies used to be over there," he pointed, "but now I b'lieve they're in that little alcove over yonder." He pointed toward the back of the store.
"Thank you, sir," replied Joy, and walked to the alcove. Perusing the shelves she was surprised to find such a nice selection of paints, brushes, turpentine, and even blank canvasses and paper. She reached for a tube with a dark purple dot on the front, and then replaced it.
A motion distracted her and she glanced down to see a teeny girl of maybe four or five staring up at her. The elfin child with golden blond hair and eyes the color of a clear summer sky, pointed to another tube and said, "Pretty."
Joy picked up a lavender paint tube, and grinned. "So you like this color?" She stretched out her hand holding the tube. The little girl's wavy hair bounced against her shoulders when she nodded. Joy said, "I think you're right. I like it, too."
Just then a tall man with hair the same color as the child's, but a tanned complexion that was startling by contrast, rounded the corner. He looked harried and gave a sigh of relief when he saw the little girl. He said, "Misty, you had me worried. How many times have I told you not to wander off?"
The little girl lowered her head to stare at the floor. The man moved his gaze from the child to Joy. Joy almost staggered backward. The gentleman's eyes were of such a pale blue he almost appeared otherworldly, and with his pale blond hair and defined bone structure, he was the handsomest man she had ever laid eyes upon. Her breath hitched. To cover her embarrassment, she asked quickly, "Is this your daughter?"
The man smiled and Joy felt her insides melt. His smile was as beautiful as his eyes.
He joked, "How could you tell?" and smoothed a hand down his daughter's hair.
Inwardly, Joy sighed, and thought that the woman married to this man with such kind eyes and beautiful smile, was very lucky indeed. She returned his smile. "While I was selecting my colors, your daughter told me how pretty the color lavender is." She displayed the tube of paint.
The man's smile faded and his eyes became guarded. "What?" he questioned, looking bewildered.
Joy repeated what she had said and the man's brow furrowed. He said, "Miss, you must be mistaken. My daughter is mute. She never talks."
Joy's mouth gaped and she was just about to argue when an older woman stepped into the alcove. It was the disgruntled spinster from the train; the one who chastised her for traveling alone.
The elderly lady was just as sour-faced as before and became even more so when she recognized Joy. "You!" she said, and sniffed. "Are you still without a chaperone?" Before Joy could respond, she touched the man's sleeve and said, "Walker, this is the disrespectful and foolish young woman I told you about from the train." She reached for the little girl's hand. "Come with me, Misty. I have something special I want to buy for you." The woman pulled Misty from the room.
Joy was so taken aback that she lifted confused eyes to the blond-headed man's azure ones. He was still frowning. With only a nod, he turned and walked out of the alcove.
Whereas Joy had found it difficult to inhale enough air before, now she almost choked with anxiety. She had heard the child speak!
After a few minutes she calmed herself, selected several more tubes of paint, and cautiously stepped from the room. Pauline was now in the fabric section fingering some gingham and Joy noticed the man, his child, and the cantankerous aunt at the counter. The proprietor boomed, "Will that be all Dr. Flemming?"
"Yes, George. Thank you. I'll return this evening to load the staples."
"They'll be ready!" the portly man boomed again.
Dr. Flemming and his group walked toward the store's doorway, but before they stepped outside, Misty turned and looked at Joy. The expression in her eyes spoke louder than words: "We share a secret."