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Regan turned to see a short, voluptuous young woman with honey-blonde hair and big blue eyes.
"I'm Brandy Dutton, and I have a farmhouse just down the road. Would you like to stay with me?"
"Yes," Regan said quietly. "I can pay you*"
"Don't worry about it. We'll work it out." Grabbing Regan's bag, she led the way down the street.
"I saw you standing there, and you looked so little and lost that my heart just went out to you. You know,
I must have looked the same about three months ago. Both my parents died and left me alone with
nothing but an old farmhouse and not much else. Here we are."
She led Regan inside an unpainted, rundown, two-story house. "Sit down, and I'll make you some coffee.
What's your name anyway?"
"Regan Stanford," she said before thinking, then shrugged because what did it matter if she didn't hide?
Travis obviously wasn't interested in having her back.
Regan sipped the coffee, not really liking the taste of it. But it helped revive her, although she could feel tears growing behind her eyes.
"You look like you've had your share of tragedy, too," Brandy said as she cut a piece of cake and
handed it to Regan.
A man who wanted to marry her in spite of the fact that he despised her, an uncle who detested her, a man who married her because of the child she carried—she could only nod to Brandy's question.
When she only picked at the cake, Brandy looked at her sympathetically and asked if she'd like to lie
down. Once alone in the little bedroom, Regan began to cry in earnest, as she'd never cried before.
She didn't hear Brandy enter the room, only felt the woman's arms around her. "You can tell me about it,"
she whispered.
"Men!" Regan cried. "Twice I've loved them, and both times—."
"You don't have to say any more," Brandy said. "I am an expert on men. Two years ago I fell for a man, decided he was worth more than anyone else on earth, so one night I slipped out the window of my
bedroom, didn't even leave my parents a note, and ran off with him. He said he was going to marry me, but there never seemed to be the right time, and six months ago I found him in bed with another woman."
This statement started Regan's tears harder.
"I didn't know where to go," Brandy continued. "So I came home, and my wonderful parents accepted
me back and never said a word about what I'd done. Two weeks later they were dead of scarlet fever."
"I* I'm sorry," Regan sniffed. "Then you're alone, too."
"Exactly," Brandy said. "I own one farmhouse that's about to fall down around my ears, and I have every man coming through here swearing he can make me the happiest woman in the world."
"I hope you don't believe them!" Regan snapped.
Brandy laughed. "You're beginning to sound like me, but it's either marry one of them or starve to death
here."
"I have some money," Regan said, emptying her pockets onto the bed. To her chagrin, there were only
four silver coins left. "Wait a minute!" she said, going to her bag and pulling out the sapphire bracelet and diamond earrings.
Brandy held them up to the light. "One of your two men must have been good to you."
"When he was with me," Regan said stiffly. Suddenly, her face changed, and she grabbed her stomach.
"Are you sick?"
"I think the baby just kicked me," she said in wonder.
Brandy's eyes opened wide just before she began laughing. "Aren't we a pair! Two rejected females who
at this moment hate the whole male race"—her tone left no doubt that that opinion would change—"with a couple of pieces of jewelry, four silver coins, a falling-down house, and a baby on the way. How are we going to put food on the table this coming winter?"
It was the way she said "we" and the hint of their being together this winter that made a spark of interest shoot through Regan. Travis didn't want her, yet she had to survive. At another kick from the baby, she smiled. She hadn't thought much about her baby in the last few months. Travis was so overpowering that she could see nothing but him.
"How about more cake and let's talk?" Brandy said.
It wasn't with glee that she thought about her future, but she had to plan something for her and the baby.
"Did you make this?" Regan asked, hungrily digging into the cake.
With pride, Brandy smiled. "If there's one thing I can do, it's cook. By the time I was ten I was doing all
the cooking for my parents."
"At least you have some talents," Regan said grimly. "I'm not sure I can do anything."
Brandy sat down at the old table. "I could teach you to cook. I was thinking of baking things and selling
them to the people who pa.s.s through Scarlet Springs. We two could make enough to get by on. "
"This is Scarlet Springs? That's the name of this place?"
Brandy gave her a look of sympathy. "I take it you just got on a stage and went to the end of the line."
Regan only nodded as she finished her cake.
"If you're willing to try and willing to work, I'd certainly like your company. "
They shook hands in agreement.
It took Brandy a week before she really began to believe that Regan could not cook, but it was ten days before she gave up.
"It's no use," Brandy sighed. "You either forget the yeast or half the flour or the sugar, or something. "
Dumping a hard loaf on the table, she tried to stab it with a knife but couldn't.
"I'm so sorry," Regan said. "I really try, I do."
Eyeing her critically, Brandy said, "You know what you're really good at? People like you. There's such a sweetness about you and you're so d.a.m.ned pretty that women like you and want to take care of you, and so do the men."
Travis had once wanted to take care of her, but it hadn't lasted long. "I'm not sure you're right, but what sort of talent is that?"
"Selling. I'll cook; you sell. Look sweet on the outside, but drive a hard bargain. Don't let anyone get away with paying less than we ask."
The next day the stage brought six people to meet others who camped outside Scarlet Springs, waiting to start the journey West. On impulse, Regan raised the prices of the baked goods, and no one questioned them but bought everything.
That afternoon she spent all the money she and Brandy had. Three of the settlers traveling West had overloaded their wagons, and they meant to throw their excess lanterns, rope, and a few pieces of clothing into the river. They were angry and wanted to make sure no one could use what they'd paid for. Regan offered to buy all of it. After running all the way to the farmhouse, she grabbed all their money from the box and paid it to the settlers.
When she returned with the merchandise, Brandy was furious. They had no money, their supplies were nearly empty, and they had a room full of equipment no one wanted.
For three days they lived on apples pilfered from an orchard four miles away, and Regan was ridden with guilt.
On the fourth day, new settlers came to Scarlet Springs, and Regan sold all the goods for three times what she'd paid for them. Crying in relief that everything had worked out, Regan and Brandy hugged each other and danced around the kitchen.
It was the beginning of everything. With this first good sale they gained confidence in themselves and each other. Both women began to look ahead to what they could do.
They struck a bargain with the farmer who owned the apple trees and purchased all his fallen apples in exchange for very little money and a loaf of bread a week from Brandy for the next six months. At night Brandy and Regan peeled and sliced apples and put them out to dry in the next day's sun. When they were dry they sold them to the westward-traveling settlers.
Every penny they made, every bargain they struck, increased the size of their business. They were up before dawn, to bed very late. Yet sometimes Regan felt she'd never been happier. For the first time in her life she felt as if she were needed.
It was during the fall that they began taking in boarders and serving meals. People came to Scarlet Springs too late to go West and had no wish to return to where they'd once lived. One man explained that his hometown had given him a going-away party, and he couldn't face returning, saying he'd missed the wagons.
Regan and Brandy looked at each other, smiled contentedly, and told the man they'd take care of him.
By Thanksgiving they had six boarders, and they were all jammed on top of one another.
"Next year I'm putting down pickles and kraut, " Brandy said, looking in disgust at a meal of little else but wild meat. She stopped her complaints when she looked at Regan.
Regan stood unsteadily, her stomach well out in front of her. "If you will excuse me," she said in the quietest possible voice, "I believe I'll go upstairs and have a baby."
Brandy, angered, grabbed her friend's arm and helped her up to the bedroom they now shared. "No doubt you've had pains all day. When are you going to stop feeling like you're a burden and start asking for help?"
Awkwardly, Regan sat on the bed, leaning back on the pillows Brandy shoved behind her. "Could you lecture me later?" she asked, her face contorting.