by Kit Morgan
Caleb glanced over his shoulder at Wylie and Katie. “You two stay bundled up now, hear?”
“Yes, sir!” Wylie said with a grin. “Tell us a story!”
“All right.” Caleb gave the horses a flick of the reins. “Don’t worry Viola,” he added, “I got plenty of stories to tell.” And he told them, the entire ride to town.
* * *
“Tell us another one!” Wylie screeched through his laughter.
Caleb laughed too. He’d been regaling them with more tales of his school days and the pranks he and other children had pulled on their poor teacher Mrs. Kincaid. “Now don’t go tryin’ any of this on the teacher in Morgan’s Crossin’, whoever she is. My friends and I were lucky Mrs. Kincaid was a kindhearted soul.”
“Lucky indeed,” Viola agreed. “What a horrid little boy you must’ve been.”
“Shucks, Mrs. Kincaid wasn’t afraid of no snake in her lunch bucket. It was crickets got her upset. Never could figger why.”
“Not spiders?” Wylie said in disgust.
“None of us could catch a spider, not that we didn’t try. Heck, it was hard enough to find and catch crickets.”
“I could’ve caught a spider,” Katie said proudly.
“I don’t doubt it,” Caleb said with a smile as he looked into Viola’s eyes. The ride had been pleasant and full of laughter and he didn’t want it to stop. He’d been forward with her earlier and far too bold. He never should’ve spoken his mind. Besides, he had nothing to offer her, not even a place to sleep yet. He couldn’t very well bunk down in the main house with his employers, let alone bring a woman and two kids with him …
“Look, I see smoke up ahead,” Viola remarked. “Above the tree line.”
“That’s probably Morgan’s Crossin’. We’ll be able to tell when we round that bend up ahead. Anson said one of the first places ya see is the Morgans’ house. Zadie tells me it’s so grand she patterned her house after it. Though hers ain’t as big, I hear tell.”
Viola sighed. “Oh, to live in a lovely home with a garden. That would be a dream come true.”
“Didn’t ya have that back in Baker City?” he asked as they approached a wooden bridge and started across.
“No, I’m afraid not.” She looked down at the icy stream beneath them. “We did live in a house, but it was very tiny, not even a front porch. Just a stoop.”
“And no yard either,” Wylie said with disgust. “But the house we had before was big, wasn’t it, Mama?”
Caleb studied her a moment. Had he missed something? He was under the impression she’d lived in a large house in Baker City with a garden and everything. “What’s this?” He had to know more.
She shook her head as if it pained her to talk about it. “When Edward was alive we had a very nice house. But after he died, I couldn’t afford to keep it.”
“Oh, I see,” he said. “So ya had to move?”
“Yes. Just months after Edward died. He … he didn’t leave us much to live on, but we got by.”
Caleb thought about that. “Well, if ya don’t mind my sayin’ so, I think yer better off here in Morgan’s Crossin’ than in some tiny place in Baker City.”
“There was nothing wrong with Baker City,” she said.
“No, just with the place ya were livin’ in. Younguns need space.”
“For all I know, Caleb,” she said emphasizing his name for good measure, “my brother’s cabin isn’t any bigger than the house in Baker City was.”
“Well, we’re ‘bout to find out.”
She straightened on the wagon seat as they rounded the bend in the road. “Oh my!” she whispered when what had to be the Morgans’ home came into view: a huge grey Queen Anne with maroon trim and a white porch. It was beautiful. Then she looked down the street – the only street, as far as she could tell. “Oh my.”
“It’s a might smaller than Baker City, I take it?” Caleb asked.
Viola smiled weakly. “You could say that.”
“Well, look on the bright side,” he said with a grin. “Ya won’t hafta go far to get nothin’.”
Viola put her face in her hands and groaned. “That was terrible.”
“I never said I was good at jokes,” he countered. “C’mon, let’s get our business taken care of.”
Nine
Caleb brought the team to a stop in front of the town mercantile. It was small, even smaller than Viola had expected. A hole in the wall, really. She glanced again at the town’s single street and tried not to wince. I can get used to this, she told herself. I made the right decision. How could she not have? She couldn’t survive much longer on her own in Baker City. Her brother was their only hope.
Still, this place made Baker City look like Philadelphia!
“Best place to find information’s right here,” Caleb said. “Storekeeps always know what’s goin’ on.” He hopped off the wagon, then helped her and the children down. “I gotta run see the blacksmith or whoever works on horses and fixin’ harnesses and such, and drop somethin’ off for Anson. You go into the store and ask ‘bout your brother. Those miners are takin’ their break anytime now, and Jess told me most of them eat lunch at the boarding house next door. All ya gotta do is wait.”
“Won’t you wait with me?” she asked.
“Let me run up and drop this off,” he said, holding up a length of leather and buckles. “‘Sides, I got a feelin’ once ya see yer brother, that first meetin’ of yers’ll take a while. I’d rather have this outta the way.”
“Of course – best you take care of it. We’ll be fine.” That, and she’d rather have Caleb with her when Clarence took her and the children to see his cabin for the first time. She hoped it wasn’t a complete disaster. The town proper was giving her little optimism.
Caleb tipped his hat, climbed up on the wagon seat and headed off. She watched him expertly turn the wagon around and head back the way they’d come. Only then did she notice the road leading to the mine. At least now she knew which direction to watch for Clarence.
“Where’s Mr. White going, Mama?” Wylie asked.
“To take care of something for his new boss. Don’t worry, he’s coming right back.”
“Can we get lemon drops?” Katie asked as she headed for the mercantile door.
“Katie, wait for me,” Viola said. “And we’ll see about the lemon drops. Maybe Uncle Clarence has some at his place.”
“I hope he does!” Wylie joined his sister at the door, still holding Viola’s hand.
Viola gave Wylie a nod of approval and the children entered. She heard Katie’s sharp intake of breath and braced herself, then went in and swallowed hard. This was nothing like the stores in Baker City – more like one of their storerooms.
“Can I help ya?” a man with a bushy mustache and big belly asked from behind the counter.
“Er … yes,” Viola said as she approached. “I’m looking for my brother. He works at the mine.”
“A name’d help,” the storekeeper said gruffly.
The service here was as nice as the surroundings, apparently. “Clarence Brown.”
The proprietor’s eyebrows knit together as he looked at her, then glanced at the children. “You his kin or somethin’?”
“I did say he was my brother,” she reminded him. Good grief, was the man slow?
“Oh dear …”
“What? Is something wrong?” Great – knowing Clarence, he’d probably run up a bill here.
“If ‘n yer talkin’ ‘bout the Clarence Brown what died last week, we done buried him already. Yer late, ma’am.”
Viola stumbled back a few steps and almost tripped over Katie. “Wh-what did you say?”
“Ain’t that why yer here? To pay respects?”
She put an arm around each of her children and held them to her as if she could shield them from his words. But holding them wasn’t going to change the fact of what he was saying. She swallowed hard and began to shake. “Do y-y-y-you mean to t-tell me … that m-m-my broth
er is … d-dead?”
“Ya mean ya didn’t know?”
“Would I be looking for him if I did?!” Viola snapped. She shut her eyes tight and tried to get a hold of herself.
“Mama?” Katie said. “Where’s Uncle Clarence?”
Viola shook her head as the first tear fell, unable to speak.
“Sorry to be the one to tell ya, ma’am. But yeah, he got caught in a tunnel when it c’lapsed, him ‘n Big Jim McNee …”
Viola collapsed to her knees, her arms still around her children.
Wylie threw his arms around her neck. “Mama!”
Katie pulled away, took several steps back and stared at her mother in horror. “What’s that man saying?”
Viola put her arms around Wylie, still unable to speak. Clarence was dead?!
“Ma’am? Ya all right?”
Viola shook her head, let go of Wylie and put a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. It didn’t help.
“Mama?” Katie said weakly.
“We, uh … we ain’t cleaned his cabin out yet. Someone said somethin’ about kin comin’. I guess that must mean you.”
“We came to live with him,” she said.
“Oh, well, sorry, ma’am. Guess you’ll just hafta go back where ya came from.”
Viola froze. Good Lord, what was she going to do? She didn’t have the money to go back!
The door burst open, making them all jump. Caleb rushed in, took one look at Viola and the children, and was on the floor next to them. “Viola!” He pulled her into his arms and held her close, Wylie still clinging to her. Katie quickly joined them, and he did his best to hold all three. “Viola,” he said again. “Someone up at the stables told me ‘bout yer brother … I came right back. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when ya got the news.”
Viola raised her eyes to his. “How could you know?” she whispered.
He let go of them, cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. With his thumbs he began to wipe her tears away. “I’m takin’ ya home.”
“Home?” she said absently, then to everyone’s surprise, began to laugh hysterically. “We don’t have a home!”
Caleb gulped, looked at the children and back. “Yes, ya do.”
“Caleb, where? How? I can’t survive without Clarence! We have nothing, do you understand? Nothing!”
Caleb rested his forehead against hers, one hand still on either side of her face. “Ya got me.” He drew back, saw her shocked face and said it again. “Viola. Ya got me.”
She shook her head, not believing what she was hearing. He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t. “No.”
“Yes,” he said firmly. He took a deep breath, stood, then helped her to her feet. Katie stepped around her brother and grabbed one of his legs, clinging to it for dear life. He put a hand on her head and stroked her hair. “It’s gonna be all right, honey. Everythin’s gonna be all right.”
Viola stood still as a statue and stared at him. “Caleb …” was all she managed.
He took her in his arms and held her. “I’m sorry about yer brother, so sorry.”
Viola felt the strength of his arms around her, could feel the warm brush of his breath against her hair as he spoke, but couldn’t get her voice to work. Clarence was dead. Dead! An accident? It was too much. Far too much …
* * *
“Viola!” Caleb cried as she went limp in his arms.
“Land sakes!” The storekeeper came around the counter. “She done fainted.”
“Get some water!” Caleb ordered.
The man glanced at the children, then hurried to comply.
“What happened to Mama?” Wylie asked, eyes round as saucers.
“She fainted.” Katie stated.
Caleb studied her as he gently patted her mother’s face. “Are ya all right, Katie? Ya still with me?” The child stared at him, her eyes going blank. “Katie!” he said with force.
She started, blinked a few times and started to cry.
The storekeeper came back with a glass and rushed to Caleb’s side. “Lord-a-mercy, she’s still out.” He noted the children and gulped. “Er … I ain’t good with younguns.”
Oh for crying out loud, Caleb thought to himself as Viola’s eyes fluttered. Luckily, the door opened and a kindly-looking older woman came in, followed by several younger ones. “Thank the Lord,” he muttered as Viola stared up at him in bewilderment.
“Ralph Jones!” the older woman cried. “What’s going on in here?!”
Mr. Jones, the storekeep, stood up, took one look at Katie and Wylie and shrugged helplessly. “Do something, Mrs. Tisdale!”
“They just found out their uncle died,” Caleb explained.
“That’s right,” said Mr. Jones, trying to be helpful. “They’re kin to Clarence Brown, what got hisself kilt last week.”
Mrs. Tisdale bent to Katie. “I’m so sorry, dear.” She pulled the child against her. “You’ll be all right.”
A pretty dark-haired woman came forward and went to Wylie. “How about you, young man? What can I do?”
Wylie looked nervously between the woman and Caleb.
“This is Wylie Todd,” Caleb said. “And that’s his sister Katie.” He helped Viola to her feet. “They just came here from Oregon to live with Mr. Brown – the news came as quite a shock to them and their ma.”
“Such a tragedy,” the older woman said. “Well, I’m Mrs. Tisdale. This gentleman is Ralph Jones – he helps run this place for Mrs. Janes.” She indicated the dark-haired woman trying to comfort Wylie, then a short, swarthy one behind her. “And this is Mrs. Rivera. We’re so sorry about your loss. He was a relative, I gather?”
“My brother,” Viola mumbled, finally able to speak.
Caleb held her close. “Are ya all right? Do ya need to sit down?”
“No, I’m … fine …”
“Maybe we ought to go next door to the boarding house and get you some tea?” Mrs. Rivera suggested.
Caleb nodded. “I think she’s right. Let’s get outta here.”
Viola looked at Katie, still huddled against a perfect stranger, and stepped out of Caleb’s arms. “Yes, I agree.” She put a hand on Katie’s shoulder, and the child automatically turned and stepped into her arms.
Caleb absently reached into his pocket and pulled out a list. “I’m taking them next door, Mr. Jones. This is for the Jones ranch. I’ll come back to pick up the supplies.”
“Anson and Jess’s place?” Ralph asked.
“That’s the one,” said Caleb. “I’m their new hand, Caleb White.”
Mrs. Tisdale patted her white hair and sighed. “Well, Mr. White, let’s get your wife and children next door.”
Caleb swallowed hard. He should tell them they weren’t married, but found it hard to speak. Finally he said, “Yeah, they could use somethin’. But … Viola here ain’t my wife.”
The three women stared at him in disbelief, Viola still in his arms.
He cleared his throat and changed positions to stand with one arm around her shoulders for support, which she still needed. Besides, he couldn’t bring himself to relinquish his hold.
“Yes … well,” Mrs. Tisdale said. “Let’s get these poor dears to Bertha.”
“Bertha?” Viola said absently.
“She’s the cook next door,” said Mrs. Janes. She turned to Mrs. Tisdale. “But won’t the men from the mine be coming for lunch any minute?”
“You’re right. There’ll be no peace for her and the little ones.” She waved at Ralph. “Which cabin did this woman’s brother reside in?”
“Fourth one on the left. Ain’t no one been in it ‘cept Mr. Morgan, far as I know.” He looked at Viola, his bushy mustache twitching before he continued. “Mr. Morgan made sure none of yer kin’s stuff was disturbed ‘til ya got here.”
“How did you know they were coming, Ralph?” Mrs. Tisdale asked.
“Mr. Morgan said so after the fella died. He owns the mine – he oughta know what his workers are about.”
�
�Oh, of course.” Mrs. Tisdale gave Viola a tender look. “Mr. Morgan would’ve gotten a hold of you, but he couldn’t know where you were coming from or when you’d arrive. I suppose all anyone could do was wait until you showed up and … well, here you are.”
Viola, calmer now, nodded. “I understand.” She sniffed back tears and motioned Wylie to her, stepping away from Caleb as she did.
He felt cold without her next to him and fought the urge to take her in his arms again – not for his own gain, but to protect her. Without her right next to him, he felt as if he wasn’t doing his job. “Best we go now,” he said tenderly.
Viola lifted her eyes to his. “Take us out of here, Caleb.”
Caleb led Viola and the children after Mrs. Tisdale, to the tiny cabin Clarence Brown had rented from Mr. Morgan. The only belongings there were a few books, a Bible, a small trunk Viola said she’d go through later, two shirts and a pair of trousers. The sum of a man’s life. He shuddered to think of Viola and the children living in that tiny crate with her brother. Sure, he sounded nice enough, if a bit forgetful, but he’d hardly had a penny to his name.
Thankfully, word got around a small town fast. Mr. Morgan heard Viola and the children were there and personally came to the cabin to give them his condolences. Apparently, Clarence had died on payday, and Mr. Morgan was kind enough to save his wages for Viola, knowing she’d be showing up. Several other folks in town also stopped in to see if they could help.
Viola didn’t seem to know what to do, so Caleb took charge and let everyone know he’d take care of them. He couldn’t just leave her in town and return to the ranch. He felt responsible for the three and while it would put him in a fix, he didn’t care. She’d have a little money now, but it wasn’t going to last. What Mr. Morgan gave her might pay a month’s rent on that teensy cabin, but not much else.
He loaded Clarence’s things in the wagon, then rounded up Viola and the children and did the same. Once he made sure they were nice and bundled up, he headed back to the mercantile to get the ranch’s supplies. While he was there, Mrs. Janes gave him a huge basket. “Mr. Morgan wanted me to put this together for the children,” she explained.