Page 20 - Ninety Miles From Nowhere

Winter Ways - Chapter 5
Often Dixie and I were afforded extra trips by riding with Jeff when we had to see someone on business. Our nearest neighbor was about thirty miles away, it was thirty miles to Beaverhead Post Office, where someone had to go once a week for mail, and homesteaders were scattered over a wide area — no two close together.
One Sunday morning Jeff had to go see a fairly recent homesteader about thirty-five miles away. I had just dressed and hadn’t had my breakfast yet but Jeff was in a hurry
to leave. I did not want to miss the trip, so I went without breakfast. I was not really concerned, for the custom of the country was to feed anyone who came along. The distances were great and there were only dirt roads, so even if you’d eaten before you left home, it would be time to eat again by the time you arrived.
After we had been at the Johnson’s about an hour, Mr. Johnson asked if we had had lunch. We said no, but it didn’t matter (liars!). Mrs. Johnson said hesitatingly, “Well, we’ve already eaten, but I guess we could build a fire in the cookstove.”
“Oh, no, no,” we exclaimed deprecatingly,
“We wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.”
“Or,” she said, “I guess we could light up the Coleman stove and cook something.”
“Oh, no! No, that’s all right,” we murmured, “Please don’t bother.” And she didn’t!
Next Jeff needed to see another homestead family, and after driving another twenty-five miles farther from home, we arrived about four o’clock to find these people gone. Another trip to another cabin followed, with the same results. Finally in making a wide swing back towards home, we stopped