Everyone looked to Roily to answer. "Well, now, Frank usually did the reading. Then his glasses got cracked, and he hasn't had time to get them fixed."
"Then there was Earl," someone called out.
Roily nodded. "We weren't partial to his reading. He had a hacking cough that got in the way of the news."
"Henry read once," Frank reminded Roily from the doorway.
"He stuttered," Roily interjected. "Drove me crazy," he added with a nod. "I almost shot him."
"You did shoot him," Frank reminded the giant.
Taylor's eyes widened. Roily clarified his action. "That was for a different reason. Get it started," he ordered Taylor once again.
She looked over the crowd of men, their expressions earnest, expectant, and she did the only thing she could do. She read.
They wouldn't let her skip any section. She was expected to read every word in print. It took her close to forty-five minutes, as the paper was four sheets thick, and she counted her blessings Roily hadn't handed her the Denver Post. It would have taken her hours to read the paper. She was interrupted with hoots of laughter over anything the least bit humorous and long discussions over the bad news.
Her audience was very appreciative. When she finished reading the last notice and folded the paper, they clapped and shouted their thank-yous. Someone she hadn't met yet told her she had a right nice pretty voice.
Taylor felt that she'd learned two things. The first was the fact that the men craved hearing news from the outside world. They obviously weren't content to live in their own little realm, they wanted to know what was going on all around them. They weren't passive Americans, and from the heated way they debated the issues, she realized they all took an active interest in their government. The second thing was about Roily. The other townsmen gave the giant a wide path. He sat all by himself, and from the looks some of the others cast his way, she concluded they were afraid of the giant. He seemed harmless enough to her.
Taylor jumped down off the crate and handed the paper to the man. "Here you are, Mr. Roily. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a hundred things to do before nightfall."
The giant stood up. "We'll see you Sunday then?"
"Sunday?"
"For the reading," he explained. "Harrison brings the paper on Fridays or Saturdays. We would all wait until Sunday to hear you read."
"I would be happy to read on Sunday," she agreed.
Roily bowed to her. "I'd be willing to show you my appreciation, Mrs. Ross." He turned to glare at the crowd. "It's only right."
Heads bobbed up and down in rapid succession. Taylor surmised Roily didn't want to be seen as thoughtful or courteous.
"Is there something in particular you might be needing?" he asked her.
"We need lodging, Mr. Roily," Taylor explained. "Could you tell me if there are any vacant houses in the area? I know it's probably wishful thinking on my part, but we'll be more than willing to live in an abandoned soddie for a while. Do you know of anything?"
Roily smiled at her and then turned to the audience watching from the street.
"She's wanting a house, men. Anyone disagree?"
The giant waited a full minute and then turned back to Taylor. "It's settled."
"What is settled?" she asked.
"Your house," he explained. "We'll start building you one tomorrow."
Her mouth dropped open. Roily picked up the rocking chair and took it back inside. As he passed her, he suggested she pick her spot this afternoon.
He wasn't jesting with her. She told him he was being overly generous. He told her he didn't mind. No one else minded either, she realized. One gentleman told her the only way they could be certain she'd stay on is if they provided a home for her.
"We don't want Ross hiding you in the mountains," one earnest-looking young man admitted.
Frank Michaels had stayed outside to listen to Taylor read the paper. He had already scanned the news but he liked listening to the sound of her voice. "You could all sleep in Callaghan's house tonight," he suggested. "It's nice and sound."
"It's got wood floors," someone called out.
"Callaghan won't be back until summer," Frank told her.
"Won't he mind if we use his house?" Taylor asked.
"It ain't Callaghan's," Roily explained. "He just took a liking to it. He ran the owners off years ago. They deeded the place to Lewis."
The freckle-faced young man named Billy stepped forward. "Whenever Callaghan comes to town, he stays in the house. No one knows how he gets inside. The house has four fancy glass windows, but none of them have been broken. He sure doesn't get in that way. There are locks on both doors, too. He's a crazy old mountain man," he added with a nod. "You don't want to be running into him."
"A real mountain man?" Taylor repeated the words in a whisper.
"I don't believe you should stay there unless your husband agrees. Where is Ross?" Frank asked.
"On an important errand," she answered. "He's really a mountain man?"
"Who?" Roily asked.
"Callaghan," she explained.
"He's a real one, all right," Roily confirmed with a nod.
"Would Mr. Lewis be willing to sell the house?" she asked then.
"He's wanting to sell it," Frank explained. "The couple who left made him their agent. Lewis holds the papers, and if he ever sells the place, he'll keep his cut and send the rest on to St. Louis. That's where the past owners were headed. You aren't thinking you want to buy the place, are you?"
"Lewis is the town's lawyer," Billy said.
Taylor was impressed. For a town this size to boast a legal advisor was quite a surprise. Then Frank pointed out the fact that Lewis had never had any formal schooling. He'd read a couple of books, followed a fancy attorney around for the year that he lived in Virginia City, and when he settled in Redemption, he put his own shingle out. Lawyers apparently didn't need diplomas.
"Does Mr. Lewis have specific office hours?"
The men found her question vastly amusing. When they stopped laughing, Frank explained Lewis didn't have an office. He owned the stable, and when he wasn't busy taking care of the horses, he took care of any legal matters.
"Why doesn't he read the paper for you?" Taylor asked then. "He charged too much money," Roily explained.
"Frank, I'm thinking she'll be safe enough. If Callaghan knows she's married to Ross, he'll leave her alone. He won't tangle with him."
Victoria came back into the general store with the twins trailing behind.
"Where's David Daniel?" Taylor asked.
"He's helping Hunter with the horses."
"I thought the boy's name was Daniel David," Frank commented. "I must have gotten it wrong."
Taylor shook her head. "You weren't wrong. He's both names until he decides which one he wants," she explained. "Mr. Roily, would you please direct me to Mr. Lewis's stable?"
"I'd be honored, Mrs. Ross."
Taylor turned to give Victoria a quick summary of the conversation she'd missed.
"Does the house have wooden floors?" she asked.
Roily told her it did. Victoria looked like she was going to swoon, so pleased was she with that bit of news.
One hour later, sight unseen, Taylor was the proud owner of a two-story house with wooden floors and four fancy glass windows. She and Victoria had also requested papers so that they could file for a hundred and sixty acres of land under the Homesteaders' Act. Lewis didn't believe either woman would qualify. Victoria was still a British subject and therefore might not be able to own land in America. He didn't know if Taylor could file either, since she was married and Lucas might have already filed.