The Texan's Dream Read Online Free

around the unwashed. Chuck wagon cooks in the mercantile ogled the women, and cowhands wandering the backstreets looked for pleasures to relieve them of their money.
    Kara knew the shops well, though most she’d only peered inside through the windows. On days she didn’t have work, she’d still leave the boardinghouse early, so no one would talk. Then she’d walk the streets, waiting for a reasonable time to return.
    She’d memorized the names of the store owners. Though she didn’t know them, she pretended she did, calling each by name as she passed their businesses. No one knew her, for she was rarely a paying customer. But that didn’t matter. As long as she knew them, she didn’t feel so alone.
    The cobbler, Mr. Abraham Warren, made fine shoes for ladies who arrived in carriages. Once, his assistant had patched Kara’s shoes. She’d stood in the store and waited while the young man worked. She watched ladies dressed in finery come in to try on shoes, then complain about how they fit. Mr. Warren waited on them. He smiled when he passed Kara, but he never spoke to her. A cobbler must surely know when someone has to wait for a repair, they owned only one set of shoes.
    When Kara entered his shop, Mr. Warren motioned for her to see the assistant. With her limp, there could be no question what was wrong.
    But Kara passed right by the assistant and sat in the chair at the front of the store. “I would like to buy a pair of shoes and a pair of boots, Mr. Warren.”
    The old man’s eyebrows disappeared into his bushy gray hair. “Two pair?”
    Kara nodded. “If you have what I need on hand. I’ve no time to have them made.”
    “You’ll be paying for them and taking them with you today, miss?”
    “Miss O’Riley.” Kara offered her hand. “And I will.”
    Warren touched her hand lightly. “Very fine, Miss O’Riley. I’m sure we’ll be able to fit you properly.”
    Suddenly boxes appeared around her. Kara straightened with pride. “Now, I’ll be buying no fancy shoes. Come dawn, I’m going to Texas and I’ll need boots and shoes to last a year.”
    Warren nodded as he sorted through the boxes. In less time than she thought possible, she walked out of the store wearing new shoes and carrying a bag with boots inside. She buttoned her warm coat and carefully turned the bag so that the shop’s name showed. If she were staying in Kansas City, she’d use the bag to carry everything just to let folks know that once she’d been able to buy new shoes from a fine shop where they called her by name.
    To her astonishment, she’d already spent six of her dollars. Six whole dollars. Four for the boots and two for the shoes. She always thought new shoes would feel grand, but after a few minutes they felt too narrow, pinched her toes, and the heel slipped when she walked.
    Kara laughed. She was rich indeed if she could complain about her new shoes.
    At Bayley’s Mercantile she began her shopping in the stationery department. She’d need a ledger book, pens, extra paper and a leather writing case to carry everything in. For the first time since she’d graduated from Miss Abigail’s school, Kara would look like a real bookkeeper.
    The next aisle held store-made skirts and blouses with lace at the collars. Since she saw no place to try on the clothes, Kara guessed at her sizes. Three white blouses, two dark skirts, undergarments, stockings, a shawl, two nightgowns that cost all of eighty-five cents each and a short traveling coat of wool. As she rounded the aisle, she selected a brown raincoat that she thought reasonable, at four dollars, and necessary.
    The store grew dark. Kara carried her bundle to the front. In a few minutes, someone would light all the lamps so that late shoppers could continue. She needed a total before picking out a hat, gloves and luggage. What she had selected must cost twenty dollars. At least a few coins had to be set aside to pay a boy to help her carry everything and for the night’s lodging, in case Mr. Jonathan Catlin didn’t