Read Online A Dream to Call My Own by Tracie Peterson - Free Book Online

ready to know the truth of it. “I can’t . . . I can’t even begin to ask myself those things.”
    Beth smiled. “When you can and you’re willing to acknowledge the truth of the answers, then you’ll know for sure if you love him.”
    The stage finally made it through the snow the following day. There were enough passengers to keep Gallatin House filled to overflowing, so Rafe wasn’t all that surprised when one man sought the saloon out for refuge.
    “Do you have a room for an old friend?” the stranger asked.
    Rafe studied the man for a moment. There was something vaguely familiar about his stance. His reddish brown beard and mustache seemed hastily grown and perhaps foreign to the man, but his brown eyes held a hard glint that Rafe recognized. This was the look of a man hardened by life.
    “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me, Rafe. Why, my feelings will be hurt all to pieces if you do that.”
    It was the voice . . . that gentle drawl . . . that brought back the memory. “Jefferson?”
    “Of course it’s me!” The man stepped forward, dropped his saddlebags, and gave Rafe a big bear hug. “How in the world are you?”
    “Well, I’ll be,” Rafe said, shaking his head. “Jefferson Mulholland.”
    They’d known each other in St. Louis, and Rafe had even written a letter to Jefferson when he was searching for new girls. Rafe stepped back from the man’s embrace and shook his head. “What brings you to this part of the country?”
    “You do,” Jefferson replied.
    “Me? But why?”
    Jefferson laughed and headed to the bar. “Serve me up a drink, and I’ll explain.”
    Rafe followed behind and tried to imagine what his old friend might want. Suspicion was Rafe’s approach to life, and just because he and Mulholland had looked after each other’s interests at one time didn’t mean the man wasn’t trouble now.
    “Whiskey or beer?” Rafe asked.
    “A beer is fine. We can save the rest for celebrating later. That is, if you decide you want to consider my proposition.”
    So he had come with an agenda. Rafe grabbed a glass and filled it. What could his old friend want? He looked up with a lopsided smile and put the beer on the bar. “And what proposition would that be?”
    Mulholland drank down half the glass before answering. “I’ve been studying this area. It hasn’t been all that easy to get information, but as it worked out, I made the acquaintance of a man who once worked some ranches in these parts.”
    “If you’ve been studying on it, then you probably know the decision the railroad made to go in to the north instead of coming through here.”
    Jefferson smiled in a smug, confident way that left Rafe uneasy. “That’s what they say, but I have a feeling we can convince them to quickly attach a spur line to this area.”
    “But there would have to be something mighty valuable to the railroad to do such a thing,” Rafe countered. “I’m afraid this area doesn’t have much in that way to offer.”
    “Not yet, but maybe in time.”
    Rafe watched Jefferson as he downed the rest of the beer in one drink. The man wiped the foam from his mustache and grinned. “I have a foolproof scheme to see this little community double in size overnight.”
    Shaking his head, Rafe refilled his friend’s glass as Jefferson pulled a bag from his pocket. He plopped the drawstring pouch onto the bar with a thud.
    “What’s that?”
    “The answer to our problems.”
    “I didn’t say I had any problems,” Rafe replied in a skeptical tone. He eyed Mulholland warily.
    Jefferson Mulholland laughed. “While I was in Bozeman, I heard about robberies, highwaymen, and murders from this area. It seemed the perfect place to create a gambling hall. Men of such reputations need a place to spend their ill-gotten gains.”
    “You want to set up a rival saloon?”
    “Not at all, my friend. I want to come in as a partner and expand this town to become a place of pleasure and diverse entertainment. The