The sun always shines, and when it does, the dust picks up. A good driver knows how to position the wagon so that the dust doesn't blow right through and coat everything and everyone inside. But Eliza had other things to worry about, and she let the misty brown cloud envelope her and her cart. It didn't matter. Dust came off with time.
She needed to do two things. The first was meet with Father Thompson to discuss her husband's funeral. All she knew was that it would cost a good deal of money. The second was to sell what remained of the corn crop and earn enough to feed Carlos and Victor, and maybe keep the farm going for another week until more permanent arrangements could be made. Perched on a bluff near the vast Flat Iron Lake was a collection of houses and three shops that made up the town of Carver. The church was a hour's ride away, so it seemed more sensible to sell the corn first.
As the wagon wheeled its way into Carver, Eliza noticed how the townsfolk watched her warily. The noise and bustle that one normally found in a frontier town was gone, replaced with a still quiet. The wagon slowly pulled to a stop in front of a shop with a large sign: "G. HARDWICK DRY GOODS".
Eliza took her time climbing out before collecting the few bags of corn, all of which were light enough for her to carry on her shoulders, and entered the shop. The merchant gave her a generous sum for the corn and ushered her out before locking the door and running upstairs. Outside, the people had vanished. It was if a plague was spreading and they'd left everything behind in the mad rush for their lives.
There was no reason to stay. As soon as her business with Father Thompson was concluded, it would be straight home.