“I mean, the county is already called Gallatin; maybe we should consider something else.”
“No one is going to think anything of it,” Patience assured. “Besides, like Dave said, most folks already reference this area in relationship to the stage stop. It seems a wise choice to avoid confusion.”
“You don’t suppose people would confuse it for Gallatin City, do you?” Beth questioned.
“No, I would hardly think so. Since Bozeman took over as county seat, that poor town has little left to it,” Jerry answered.
“I think Gallatin Crossing would be a fine name.”
“So how does one go about making that official?” Nick asked. “How do we become a town?”
Hank grew thoughtful. “We’ll need to check out the territorial law and see what’s required. I doubt that it’s all that difficult. I do know there is a difference between simply calling yourself an unincorporated town and incorporating. We’ll take it one step at a time. The only thing that might influence our timing would be the railroad.”
“And that could take years,” Jerry said. “They’ve stopped and started that line several times before. There’s no telling if it will actually get completed this time around.”
“I think that’s a good point,” Hank replied. “Of course, once the line is determined, even if it hasn’t been built, it’s going to cause a stir, and land prices will go up. I’ll do what I can to check out the particulars. But until then, there’s no reason we can’t refer to ourselves as Gallatin Crossing.”
Cubby jumped up, noting the time. “It’s late. Pa will surely be waking up by now. I’d best be on my way. Thanks for dinner.” He didn’t wait to discuss the matter but quickly headed to the back door. “Bye, Lacy,” he said over his shoulder.
“Wait,” Beth called out. She followed him into the kitchen. “Would you like a piece of pie? We have several just waiting.”
He looked at her rather wistfully. “Sure sounds good, but I can’t very well take it with me.”
“If I cut the piece small,” Beth suggested, “you could eat it on your way home. Then no one has to be the wiser.”
Cubby nodded. “That might work. I figured to go the long way around the store and come down the road so that no one suspected. That would give me plenty of time to eat it.” He grinned. “You wouldn’t need to cut it too small.”
Rafe pushed around the beans on his plate and silently cursed the Gallatin women and their stupidity. If they would have just minded their own business, he might have had the chance to eat roasted pig and some of their delicious pie. His mouth watered just thinking about it, and the beans did nothing to ease his misery.
“Biscuits are done,” Wyman said, tossing a pan on the table.
Rafe took one of the hot biscuits and slathered it with butter. Wyman did likewise, and the two ate in silence. For all of his life, Rafe felt he’d gotten nothing but the short end of the stick. It seemed he always managed to sidestep the easy route and head right to a rougher path. It wasn’t out of desire; it just seemed to be his lot in life.
He thought of the gathering at the Gallatin House. His girls had been upset to hear they were no longer allowed to attend the festivities. A couple of them had actually gotten quite sassy about it, and Rafe had slapped them hard to put across to the rest that grumbling and complaining wouldn’t be allowed. He could grumble and complain plenty for everyone. He didn’t need their help.
“So you figure we’ll have any business tonight?” Wyman asked.
“Who can tell after last night?” Rafe replied, pushing his empty plate back. “I’ve had about all the interference I’m gonna stand for from those Gallatin women.”
“What can you do about it? I know you said Bishop would like to buy you out, but I didn’t think that was an option.”
“It’s not.” Rafe got up and went to the bar. He poured himself a beer, then took a long
“No one is going to think anything of it,” Patience assured. “Besides, like Dave said, most folks already reference this area in relationship to the stage stop. It seems a wise choice to avoid confusion.”
“You don’t suppose people would confuse it for Gallatin City, do you?” Beth questioned.
“No, I would hardly think so. Since Bozeman took over as county seat, that poor town has little left to it,” Jerry answered.
“I think Gallatin Crossing would be a fine name.”
“So how does one go about making that official?” Nick asked. “How do we become a town?”
Hank grew thoughtful. “We’ll need to check out the territorial law and see what’s required. I doubt that it’s all that difficult. I do know there is a difference between simply calling yourself an unincorporated town and incorporating. We’ll take it one step at a time. The only thing that might influence our timing would be the railroad.”
“And that could take years,” Jerry said. “They’ve stopped and started that line several times before. There’s no telling if it will actually get completed this time around.”
“I think that’s a good point,” Hank replied. “Of course, once the line is determined, even if it hasn’t been built, it’s going to cause a stir, and land prices will go up. I’ll do what I can to check out the particulars. But until then, there’s no reason we can’t refer to ourselves as Gallatin Crossing.”
Cubby jumped up, noting the time. “It’s late. Pa will surely be waking up by now. I’d best be on my way. Thanks for dinner.” He didn’t wait to discuss the matter but quickly headed to the back door. “Bye, Lacy,” he said over his shoulder.
“Wait,” Beth called out. She followed him into the kitchen. “Would you like a piece of pie? We have several just waiting.”
He looked at her rather wistfully. “Sure sounds good, but I can’t very well take it with me.”
“If I cut the piece small,” Beth suggested, “you could eat it on your way home. Then no one has to be the wiser.”
Cubby nodded. “That might work. I figured to go the long way around the store and come down the road so that no one suspected. That would give me plenty of time to eat it.” He grinned. “You wouldn’t need to cut it too small.”
Rafe pushed around the beans on his plate and silently cursed the Gallatin women and their stupidity. If they would have just minded their own business, he might have had the chance to eat roasted pig and some of their delicious pie. His mouth watered just thinking about it, and the beans did nothing to ease his misery.
“Biscuits are done,” Wyman said, tossing a pan on the table.
Rafe took one of the hot biscuits and slathered it with butter. Wyman did likewise, and the two ate in silence. For all of his life, Rafe felt he’d gotten nothing but the short end of the stick. It seemed he always managed to sidestep the easy route and head right to a rougher path. It wasn’t out of desire; it just seemed to be his lot in life.
He thought of the gathering at the Gallatin House. His girls had been upset to hear they were no longer allowed to attend the festivities. A couple of them had actually gotten quite sassy about it, and Rafe had slapped them hard to put across to the rest that grumbling and complaining wouldn’t be allowed. He could grumble and complain plenty for everyone. He didn’t need their help.
“So you figure we’ll have any business tonight?” Wyman asked.
“Who can tell after last night?” Rafe replied, pushing his empty plate back. “I’ve had about all the interference I’m gonna stand for from those Gallatin women.”
“What can you do about it? I know you said Bishop would like to buy you out, but I didn’t think that was an option.”
“It’s not.” Rafe got up and went to the bar. He poured himself a beer, then took a long
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