Ellen saw that the crowd hesitated, and she quickly stepped in behind Clay. One of the other women saw her and followed suit. Then the whole group formed up like soldiers on muster day.
Clay had a large order and Jenny jotted it down, then passed it off to yet another waiting helper.
How many has Sam hired?
“Ellen,” Jenny said when she looked up. “Your family pull through the winter alright?”
“Well enough,” Ellen said.
“I’d love to catch up but,” Jenny waved at the line and gave her an exasperated look. “What can I help you with?”
“Actually, I was hoping I could help you,” Ellen said. “I worked in my father’s store many times, clerking and bookkeeping.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Whatever you need.”
“How’s your writing? This lot can’t read so good unless it’s plain.”
Instead of answering, Ellen took up a pen and paper and turned to the man directly behind her.
“Your name?” she asked.
“Jake…Jake Ellis,” he stumbled.
“What are you here needing, Mr. Ellis?” Ellen said.
He stammered for a minute, confused, looking from Jenny to Ellen and back again.
“Well, I suppose I need…” He went on to list a half-dozen items.
Ellen took down each, along with the quantities, and put his name at the top. Then she handed the list to Jenny, who took a quick look at it, nodded, and passed it to another waiting man.
“Fill this,” she said. Then she handed Ellen a stack of blank papers. “Two dollars for the rest of the day, but I can’t promise anything beyond that.”
“I understand,” Ellen said.
“Split the line in half and form another one. She’ll take down your orders,” Jenny announced to the waiting men.
The work was hard, the pace frantic, and by the end of the day Ellen’s fingers were sore and ink-stained. Every time she and Jenny cut the line down, another group would arrive. Most she didn’t know. She and Jim hadn’t been in the area long; they’d visited town only on brief trips for supplies, and she recognized very few of the day’s customers.
Finally, just before dark, Sam announced the store was closing for the night. There were several complaints. Sam silenced them with a hard glare. Ellen could scarcely believe the business the store had done.
She sagged down on a chair while Sam ushered the last protesting customers out the front.
“Busy today,” she said.
“Worse today with the flooding, but it’s been like this for a week,” Jenny answered.
“Why?”
“Gold,” Sam said from the front. “They struck gold at Bidwell’s Bar and now the whole country’s caught the fever.”
That explained the number of strangers in the store, and their purchases, lots of shovels, tools, and lanterns. The men who’d been running orders all day shuffled up and Sam paid each one. He shut the door after them.
“We did more business today than we did last month,” Jenny said. “Thanks for the help.”
“I needed the job,” Ellen said. “It was a hard winter up in the mountains.”
A knock came at the door, and Sam frowned.
“I told them to wait until tomorrow.”
“Did you put the sign out?” Jenny asked.
Sam scowled in response and picked up a pine board with the word “Closed” painted on it. He opened the door, started to speak, then took a quick step back.
A tall man stood in the door, thin and wiry, wearing a piece of cloth over his face that covered all but his eyes. He held a pistol in one hand. The barrel was pointed directly at Sam’s chest.
“Hands up,” he said.
Sam did as he was told, and the sign clattered to the floor. Ellen held her breath and grew very still. She leaned a little closer to Jenny, who seemed even more frightened.
Who was is man? What does he want?
The tall man looked at the fallen sign. “Closed, eh? Well, I’ll only be a moment and we wouldn’t want to be disturbed.” Then he saw the two women in the back. “Ladies, just stay where you are, please. I’d hate to shoot this man over a misunderstanding.”
Waving the gun, he gestured Sam toward the cashbox.
