The Only Way Out - Book Two of the Western Girls Trilogy

Chapter 2

The following Thursday was fairly sunny and Morgan knocked gently on Ms. Desmond's office door, just before she left for her weekly lunch.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Ms. Desmond, is it alright if I go for a walk while you're at lunch?" Morgan asked as the woman pinned her hat in place and pulled on her woolen shawl.

"I suppose that would be fine. Just make sure you're back before I am so you can help Mrs. Lowry with supper."

"Yes ma'am." she replied.

Ms. Desmond left and Morgan went to the kitchen for one of the larger baskets that Mrs. Lowry used when she went to the market for produce. She took the boots and chaps out of the chest by her bed and placed them in the basket. Surprisingly, they didn't take up as much room as she expected, so she took her brother's hat down off the wall as wall.

Slipping out the front door while the other girls were busy, she hurried down the street to see Mr. Peterson at the General Store. He was with another customer when she walked in, but she had time to wait, so she walked over to a small rack with hats, trying on a few to see if they would fit. One of the smaller ones seemed to fit perfectly, but when she couldn't find a price tag on it, she put it back. The most important thing was to see how much he'd be able to give her in trade for her brother's items.

"Find one that fits?" Mr. Peterson walked over to her when he'd finished with his other customer and she turned around with a smile.

"This one does, but I didn't see a price tag on it."

"Well, let's see what you have to trade, but I think we could work something out."

She pulled the boots and chaps out of the basket and set the hat on top.

"You're sure you want to part with these?" he asked, looking them over. "They're in nearly new condition and these aren't cheaply made. The hat alone I could give you five for."

"Well, they don't fit, so they won't work for me." she said.

"Just what is it you're planning, young lady?"

"Mr. Peterson, you can't tell anyone!" she gasped.

"I'm a vault, Miss Russell." he said.

She pulled the piece of paper she'd torn from the newspaper and set it on the counter.

"You're-!" he said loudly. Then he leaned in and whispered, even though there wasn't anyone else in the store. "You're joining the cattle drive?"

"I have to get out of town," she said. "It's the only thing I can think of. If I buy a train ticket or take a stagecoach west, Ms. Desmond will be sure to come after me. This way, no one will know where I am, but I won't be by myself."

He shook his head in disapproval, but he knew her well enough that she would do it regardless of whether or not she should. "Listen, Mary's nephew is here visiting. He's thirteen and just outgrew a bunch of his clothes. Let me take a look at what he's got that doesn't fit him anymore and I'll bring it next week. I'll pay you for these, because they're good quality and you could probably use a bit of money, even if you aren't by yourself."

"Mr. Peterson, I'm happy to pay you for anything-,"

He shook his head. "He's about your size and we'd just be throwing most of it away. But I think he might have a pair of boots and a few changes of clothes that would fit you. You do realize that you're far too pretty to ever be mistaken for a man, though, don't you?"

"I'm working on that," she said. She might have to resort to gluing hair on her face, but she would take care of that later.

"Alright, well let's go calculate what I owe you for the items you brought me." he said, walking back to the counter where she had laid everything out. "Five for the hat," he said. "And I'll give you a dollar a piece for the pants and a dollar for each of the shirts. You sure you don't want to keep the chaps? You're probably going to need them."