Read Online September's Dream by Ruth Ryan Langan - Free Book Online
Authors: Ruth Ryan Langan
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you can help me load them onto my wagon."
If Jacob Mueller was surprised at the crude pushcart she indicated, he didn’t let on. "Thank you, Miss Malloy. I’m happy to be of service."
With a smile softening her features, September lifted the handles and pushed her treasures toward the boardinghouse.
As she did each night, September scrubbed the pots and hauled water in the big kettles to the kitchen stove. When her chores were finished, she washed her clothes and strung them along the back porch. This time she added the miner’s shirt to the washload before taking her sponge bath. Toweling her hair dry, she wrapped herself in the rough blanket and curled into the corner of the steamy kitchen. She needed to retire quickly. Her days were about to begin even earlier than before. There was money to be made. And September had no time to waste.
* * *
In the morning, Aggie Whelan clumped out to the kitchen in her familiar britches and work boots. September had already mended the miner’s shirt and sewn buttons on the other miner’s jacket, as well as mending two of the saloon girl’s dresses. Draped over the porch rail, they fluttered in the breeze like bright sails.
"What’s this?" Aggie demanded.
"Mending. For some extra money," September said casually.
"Yeah?" Aggie surveyed the scene with her hands on her hips. "I don’t care what you do in your spare time. Just don’t let it get in the way of your chores, or you’re out on your ear. Understand?"
September nodded. "I did this on my own time, Aggie. I won’t let it interfere with my work."
"See that you don’t." She sniffed the air, then peered in the oven. "What you got baking this early in the day?"
"Pies. When I was in Mueller’s Store last night to buy my sewing supplies, I noticed some jars of blueberry preserves his wife put up. I figured the miners will pay good money for something sweet."
Aggie studied her through narrowed eyes. "And just how did you figure to pay for all this?"
"I started an account at Mueller’s Store. I’ll keep track of what I owe you for the pie dough. You can deduct it on payday. Then I’ll square it with Mr. Mueller." She gave the woman a radiant smile. "And the rest is profit."
The big woman looked at her with new respect. "You could be onto something. There’s a heap of men in this town doing without a woman’s comfort. Maybe they’ll even pay more for homemade blueberry pie than they will for stew."
September nodded. "I’m counting on it."
"But you intend to sell them in my grub tent." The woman’s eyes glittered as she calculated. "So you’re cutting in on my profits." She pinned September with a hard gaze. "I’ll let it go, long as you’re willing to split fifty-fifty."
September whirled from the stove. "That isn’t fair. I do all the work and you grab half the profits."
"What’s fair is you have a place to sleep, thanks to me. And if I didn’t have that grub tent, you’d have no place to sell your pies."
September considered. "Sixty-forty. I bought the blueberries and did the work."
Aggie’s lips thinned. "Fifty-fifty. And I’ll buy the next batch of supplies."
"And help me bake?"
Aggie chewed her hp. This kid was sharper than most. Reluctantly she relented. "Okay. But if I catch you falling down on the chores I hired you to do, the deal’s off."
"Don’t worry, Aggie," September laughed. "I can keep up as long as you can." As Aggie crossed the room, September cleared her throat. "Aggie, what do you know about someone called Snake?"
The woman turned. "Snake Rawlins?" Her face darkened with anger. "He owns the biggest saloon in town. He’s quick with a gun. I’ve heard about a lot of shootings in Snake’s place, but the law never charges him. Seems he always has a lot of witnesses on his side. He’s thought up more ways to con a miner out of his gold than anyone in this town. And believe me, there are a lot of thieves in Skagway."
"Why is he called Snake?"
Aggie laughed.
If Jacob Mueller was surprised at the crude pushcart she indicated, he didn’t let on. "Thank you, Miss Malloy. I’m happy to be of service."
With a smile softening her features, September lifted the handles and pushed her treasures toward the boardinghouse.
As she did each night, September scrubbed the pots and hauled water in the big kettles to the kitchen stove. When her chores were finished, she washed her clothes and strung them along the back porch. This time she added the miner’s shirt to the washload before taking her sponge bath. Toweling her hair dry, she wrapped herself in the rough blanket and curled into the corner of the steamy kitchen. She needed to retire quickly. Her days were about to begin even earlier than before. There was money to be made. And September had no time to waste.
* * *
In the morning, Aggie Whelan clumped out to the kitchen in her familiar britches and work boots. September had already mended the miner’s shirt and sewn buttons on the other miner’s jacket, as well as mending two of the saloon girl’s dresses. Draped over the porch rail, they fluttered in the breeze like bright sails.
"What’s this?" Aggie demanded.
"Mending. For some extra money," September said casually.
"Yeah?" Aggie surveyed the scene with her hands on her hips. "I don’t care what you do in your spare time. Just don’t let it get in the way of your chores, or you’re out on your ear. Understand?"
September nodded. "I did this on my own time, Aggie. I won’t let it interfere with my work."
"See that you don’t." She sniffed the air, then peered in the oven. "What you got baking this early in the day?"
"Pies. When I was in Mueller’s Store last night to buy my sewing supplies, I noticed some jars of blueberry preserves his wife put up. I figured the miners will pay good money for something sweet."
Aggie studied her through narrowed eyes. "And just how did you figure to pay for all this?"
"I started an account at Mueller’s Store. I’ll keep track of what I owe you for the pie dough. You can deduct it on payday. Then I’ll square it with Mr. Mueller." She gave the woman a radiant smile. "And the rest is profit."
The big woman looked at her with new respect. "You could be onto something. There’s a heap of men in this town doing without a woman’s comfort. Maybe they’ll even pay more for homemade blueberry pie than they will for stew."
September nodded. "I’m counting on it."
"But you intend to sell them in my grub tent." The woman’s eyes glittered as she calculated. "So you’re cutting in on my profits." She pinned September with a hard gaze. "I’ll let it go, long as you’re willing to split fifty-fifty."
September whirled from the stove. "That isn’t fair. I do all the work and you grab half the profits."
"What’s fair is you have a place to sleep, thanks to me. And if I didn’t have that grub tent, you’d have no place to sell your pies."
September considered. "Sixty-forty. I bought the blueberries and did the work."
Aggie’s lips thinned. "Fifty-fifty. And I’ll buy the next batch of supplies."
"And help me bake?"
Aggie chewed her hp. This kid was sharper than most. Reluctantly she relented. "Okay. But if I catch you falling down on the chores I hired you to do, the deal’s off."
"Don’t worry, Aggie," September laughed. "I can keep up as long as you can." As Aggie crossed the room, September cleared her throat. "Aggie, what do you know about someone called Snake?"
The woman turned. "Snake Rawlins?" Her face darkened with anger. "He owns the biggest saloon in town. He’s quick with a gun. I’ve heard about a lot of shootings in Snake’s place, but the law never charges him. Seems he always has a lot of witnesses on his side. He’s thought up more ways to con a miner out of his gold than anyone in this town. And believe me, there are a lot of thieves in Skagway."
"Why is he called Snake?"
Aggie laughed.
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