Fireblossom Read Online Free Page A

Chee's domain.
    As an open wagon was loaded with the trunks from Hugo's prairie schooner, they all climbed up and found places.
    "I know, I know," Stephen Avery said in tones of apology as his mules struggled to pull the wagon forward through the mud, "you're wondering why I've brought you to such a godforsaken town, but I hope that you'll be patient and reserve judgment for a bit."
    "Mama told me towns like this were only in books!" Benjamin exclaimed, unable to repress his enthusiasm a moment longer. "I bet if she'd known a place as tremendous as Deadwood could be real, she'd've come, too! Right, Papa?"
    "Well, Benjamin," his father began, aware of Susan's warning glance, "as it happens, Deadwood was not real until this past spring, so your dear mama was quite right. However, I have a notion that she might not have liked such a town as much as we men do. I can only pray that Madeleine will be more broadminded."
    Maddie put on her bravest smile. "I must own that the town is beginning to look a trifle more respectable," she murmured, gazing around at more tents and cabins which appeared to be occupied by relatively normal-looking people. At least here there were no more half-naked women watching from windows, or gamblers and rowdies cursing loudly between swigs of whiskey.
    With a nervous chuckle, Stephen said, "How remiss of me... I should have explained that the part of town you saw when you entered is known as the 'badlands.' Part of the reason I bought the land I did was so you children wouldn't have to be near Deadwood's seedier side."
    "Oh, Stephen, you always were the most conscientious father," Susan said, with just enough irony to secure his attention.
    Madeleine, meanwhile, was beset by waves of anxiety. She had seen no young people might be deemed appropriate for her acquaintance. Was her house far from town, a shack surrounded by a wide moat of mud? Where would she shop, and what could she buy? Half of the "stores" were merely tents with barrels stuck out in front to display the owner's wares.
    "There it is." They had turned a corner and Stephen was pointing toward the gently sloping hillsides above Sherman Street, but all his family could see were more miners, burned logs, mud, and tents.
    Even Benjamin wasn't enthusiastic enough about the West to live in a tent. "Papa...?"
    "I own five claims, three hundred feet each, on that hillside. Those men work for me. On good days, my claims pay one thousand dollars."
    The wagon had rolled farther south and now turned up a lane that slanted sideways up the hill. Looking carefully, Madeleine made out the shape of a house behind a stand of pine trees. She sat up a little straighter, and Stephen caught her eye, smiling. When they reached the top of the drive, he guided the mules past the trees and brought them to a standstill in front of the new house.
    "Golly!" cried Benjamin. "It's the finest house in Deadwood!"
    "A singular honor," Susan murmured dryly as she climbed down from the wagon unassisted.
    Madeleine let her father lift her to the ground. The house had a tired-looking dirt yard. Pine boards had been laid out end to end from the door, forming a makeshift walkway.
    The house itself was grand indeed, for Deadwood. A little porch extended in front of the two-story whitewashed dwelling. Stephen said that as soon as the paint he had ordered arrived, Madeleine could choose proper colors. They entered into a little parlor with a plain drop-leaf table, some battered chairs, and a settee against one wall. Stephen walked across the raw pine floor and proudly touched the back of the settee, which was on old rococo revival piece trimmed in scarred mahogany. The original maroon velvet upholstery peeped out from under a cover of flowered Chinese silk.
    "You've no idea how difficult it still is to obtain real furniture here," he said proudly. "The army and the Indians make it hard for any transportation company to get supplies into the Hills. I've been begging and bribing to