Carolyn Davidson by Runaway

attempt to tease.
    Granting him a scant grin, she climbed the three steps leading to the door. It swung shut behind her, and Cassie inhaled the unique smell of the place. Her hungry eyes were eager as they devoured the merchandise lining the shelves. Canned goods and bags of flour and sugar lined up next to tins of tea and spices. Bits of lace and eyelet nestled within a glass case, and her eyes lingered there for a moment before she edged past.
    The scent of leather drew her to a display of harnesses and halters hung on nails against the wall. A saddle sat on end, a pile of coarsely woven blankets next to it. Shoes were lined up on the end of one counter, and she was awed by the display. She’d only ever had one pair at a time inher life, and those, by necessity, had been sturdy and lacking in style.
    When Will entered the store, his gaze softened as he watched her explore, her eyes wide as she eased her way down the length of the counter and past the barrels of salt pork and pickles. It looked to him as if the girl had lacked the chance to spend much time in a store lately, what with the ragtag clothing she’d possessed when he found her. Not to mention the awestruck look in her eyes now that she was faced with the splendor of plenty. He’d have to see to it she was outfitted with some new pants, farther down the road, before they reached the farm.
    Quickly he pointed out the foodstuffs he’d decided on and watched as the storekeeper stowed them in a burlap bag. Will counted out the coins on the burnished counter and picked up his merchandise.
    “You folks just passin’ through?” the proprietor asked, sorting out the money into his cash drawer.
    Will nodded. “We’re headin’ up to Missouri. My folks have a farm outside of Greenbush.”
    “Can’t say I ever heard of it,” the storekeeper said, one finger nudging his spectacles in place.
    Will grinned. “Neither has much of anyone else. Reckon it’s just a spot on the map. They were lookin’ for the railroad to come through when I left. I figure that oughta lend some life to the place.”
    “Well, you’re only a day or so from the state line, less’n you poke along. Ought to be home before it’s time to plow.”
    Will shrugged. “I expect I’ll remember how.” He cast a glance at Cassie. “You about ready, Sarah Jane?”
    She looked at him, her eyes widening at the salutation. And then she smiled, ducking her head, her shy, bridelike gesture a direct contrast to the sparkle in her eyes. “Yes,Will,” she said meekly. With a last, longing look at the merchandise surrounding her, she made her way to the door.
    Will opened it, ushering her past, his load heavy, dragging the burlap bag almost to the floor. She walked ahead and his eyes fastened on the rounded bottom encased in boy’s pants. There was definitely something to be said for Cassie in a pair of denims. He’d just better hope his ma didn’t pitch a fit when he brought home a female in britches.
    The pack animal well laden, they set out from the small community, Cassie looking back mournfully over her shoulder. “That was a good-sized store for such a small town, wasn’t it?”
    “Probably the only place to trade for miles around,” Will said. “Farms are pretty scattered hereabouts. I doubt folks get to town more than once every couple of weeks.”
    “Is Greenbush any bigger?” she asked, nudging her horse into a quicker pace and pulling in beside Will.
    Will shrugged. “Could be by now, I reckon. I’ve been gone for a long time, Cassie. If the railroad came through, my guess is that Greenbush has grown by leaps and bounds.”
    “Do you think I could get a job there?”
    “Ma will probably put you to work on the farm, Cass. She’ll be glad to get another woman to help out.”
    Cassie shook her head in mute denial.
    “You don’t think you’d like it on the farm?” Will asked, his eyes on her downcast face.
    “I need to make a life of my own, Will,” she told him firmly.