Dear Miss Cucinotta

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Dear Miss Cucinotta Page 3

by Kit Morgan


  Rufi’s eyebrows shot up. Was she scolding him too? Who did she think she was?

  Harlan laughed and pulled her into his arms like he was wrestling a wardrobe into place. “I’ve missed you!”

  She began hitting his arm. “Then don’t strangle me!”

  He let her go, stepped back and motioned to the small crowd of people behind him. “Meet my family!” He grinned at everyone, and everyone except Tom stared slack-jawed. From the looks of it, they were all staring at Bella – and, Rufi realized, at her too!

  Tom smiled and leaned toward Wilfred, C.J. and Cyrus. “Told ya he weren’t exaggeratin’.”

  Chapter Three

  C.J. stood dumbstruck. Two of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen in his life were standing right in front of him. One, he was sure, was the “Greek goddess” that had married one of Harlan Hughes’ stepsons. But which one? Maybe the one with the child fussing in her arms.

  He managed to divert his gaze to Cyrus, Wilfred and Tom. Cyrus and Wilfred were as spellbound as he felt. Tom just stood with a knowing smile on his face. He was right – Harlan hadn’t exaggerated. Oh dear – were both of them married? It would be just his luck. He’d still be out in the middle of nowhere with not one marriageable female within a hundred miles. But no worse off than he was this morning. So which of the men were their husbands?

  “Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat!” Irene suddenly cried. “There’s two of them?” She quickly rubbed her eyes, blinked a few times, then looked again. “Tarnation, there is!”

  C.J., distracted by her comment, glanced at the identical twin men and shook his head. Hadn’t the woman ever seen twins before? Or was it just that they were the size of a team of oxen?

  Harlan broke into laughter. “Let me introduce you to Mary’s boys Benjamin and Calvin. She’s got two more sons at home – the oldest, Arlan, and the youngest, Daniel.”

  “We’re the middle ones,” one of the twins commented. C.J. had no idea if he was Calvin or Benjamin. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep them straight.

  Everyone else seemed to be of the same mind. “Land sakes,” Grandma said as she shuffled toward them. “You two are almost as big as our Andel Berg. Too bad he ain’t here – we could measure them to see who’s taller.”

  “Ah yes, Andel,” Harlan said. “Good man. Used to be the blacksmith in these parts.”

  “Shucks, Harlan,” the other twin said. “Tom told us all ‘bout him. He married a princess and became a prince concert or somethin’.”

  Grandma laughed. “Consort is the correct term, young man.” She turned to Harlan. “I must say you married into a handsome family. And who are these lovely ladies?”

  “Grandma, may I present Benjamin’s wife Charity.” He motioned to her. “Calvin’s wife Isabella. And this is Rufina, Bella’s younger sister. She came along to help with the children.”

  C.J. noticed Rufina making a face at that, and smiled. So it appeared she was single … no, he couldn’t let himself be distracted by a woman. He was here to learn from Cyrus. But it couldn’t hurt to get to know her …

  “Well, don’t just stand there,” Irene snapped. “Come inside for lemonade and cookies. Then you can get checked into the hotel.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to check in now?” Charity asked.

  “And have the whole town swoop down on you?” Irene said. “Take my advice and have a moment of peace and quiet first. By my estimate, you folks only have a few minutes before they start stampeding down the street to welcome Harlan back.”

  Harlan laughed. “She’s right, you know.” He gazed down the street, smiled and turned to Mary. “Here comes Paddy Mulligan now – you don’t mind if I go say hello?”

  His wife shook her head and laughed. “Go ahead.” She looked at Irene. “But I’m parched myself. I’d love some lemonade.”

  Irene smiled, something C.J. hadn’t seen the woman do much since his arrival. She motioned Mrs. Hughes and the others into the mercantile as Harlan hurried down the street to greet the saloon keeper. C.J. brought up the rear, wondering if he should speak to the beautiful Rufina as she herded the children inside.

  Soon everyone had a glass of lemonade and a cookie and stood happily munching, C.J. included. He did his best not to stare at Rufina and her sister. Maybe he should speak to one of the others to get a conversation going? He turned to the twins, who were taller than him by at least four inches. “So how does one tell you two apart?”

  One of them folded his arms. “There’s a trick to it.”

  “And you are?” C.J. prompted.

  He jabbed his chest with a thumb. “I’m Benjamin.”

  “That must make me Calvin,” said the other one. They looked at each other and laughed.

  C.J. smiled. “So what’s the trick?”

  “Look real close,” Benjamin instructed.

  C.J. studied them both but couldn’t spot a difference other than their clothes. He shook his head. “What am I looking for?”

  “Keep looking,” Mrs. Hughes said behind him. “Though even I have trouble sometimes and I’m their ma.”

  C.J. took another look. Both were tall, broad and looked solid as a rock, with dark hazel eyes, dimples and russet-brown hair … “Aha!”

  Mrs. Hughes smiled. “If you caught it that quick, I should give you a prize.”

  “So what is it?” Benjamin teased.

  C.J. pointed at Calvin’s cowlick. “Is that always there?”

  Benjamin laughed and slapped his brother on the back. “Well, what do ya know? He got it right off!”

  “I did?” C.J. said with a smile.

  “You sure did,” Mary said. “I don’t think anyone’s ever figured it out that fast.”

  C.J., proud of himself, stood a little straighter.

  “Alfonso and I did,” the younger goddess spoke.

  C.J. picked up her accent – Italian, presumably. His fascination with her went up another ten notches. “Really? How long did it take you?”

  “About as long as you.” she said with a tiny smile as Harlan returned.

  C.J. noted her smug expression and did his best not to laugh. So she was competitive too, eh?

  Before he could reply, Dr. Abijah Waller entered the mercantile. “Harlan!”

  Harlan turned, went to the wiry little man and gave him a big hug. “How’re you doing, Doc?”

  “Never better,” Doc said. “I saw you talking to Paddy down the street and would have said hello then, but I was helping Bowen out.”

  “And how is Clear Creek’s more famous doctor?” Harlan asked with a grin. “Keeping you on your toes?”

  “Hounding him is more like it,” Grandma said. “Heaven knows he doesn’t listen to me. So someone else has to do it.”

  Doc waved it off. “I don’t see as well as I used to, that’s true. But I get around all right and can still doctor with the best of them.”

  “I’m sure you can, Doc.” Harlan patted him on the back. “Well, Ma,” he said to his wife, “what say we finish up our lemonade and mosey on down to the hotel?”

  “Fine with me,” she said. “I’m worn out from that trip.”

  “We all are,” Bella said, her Italian accent even heavier.

  She must have come over when she was already grown, C.J. mused, remembering a Bavarian family back east. The parents had the harsh, guttural accent of their home country, but their children all spoke with a flat Baltimorean bray. “If you don’t mind my asking,” C.J. said, “where in Italy are you from?”

  Calvin grinned. “Oh, ya just said the magic words. Ain’t that right, Bella?”

  “Yes, it is. Most people in America, they forget that Italia is not one country – or was not until recently. Do you know Trastevere, Signor …”

  “Branson – C.J. Branson. Trastevere … that’s part of Rome, isn’t it? Or nearby?”

  Bella’s smile could have lit up the Trevi Fountain. “Within the city itself, si. We came to America many years ago, when my brothers and sisters were still bambi
ni.”

  “Fascinating,” he said.

  “Where are you from?” Rufina asked.

  C.J. stared into her big brown eyes, his heart thundering in his chest. She was so beautiful … “Um, Baltimore, signorina.”

  “Well!” She put her hand on her hip. “Parli Italiano?”

  “Only a few words, alas. In a city like Baltimore, you can pick up a little of anything this side of Chinese.”

  “Well, then I will not speak Chinese to you, Mr. Branson,” she shot back.

  He laughed. By Heaven, she was witty as well as pretty! “Anyway, I came west to learn business from Mr. Van Cleet, and to broaden my horizons.”

  “Speaking of broadening your horizons, son,” Doc said. “Are you available this week to work in my barn?”

  C.J. glanced at Rufina. Would she think he was just a hired hand, and thus beneath her? Should he tell her who he was? But no, he couldn’t afford distractions …

  “C.J.?” Doc prompted.

  C.J. shook himself. “Oh, sorry. Sure, Doc, any time.”

  “Can you spare him, Cyrus?” Doc asked.

  “I suppose. I was going to ask Max if he’d like to help out with some work at the hotel.”

  “You sprucing the place up, Cyrus?” Harlan asked.

  “It needs some upkeep. I got started on it a few months ago, but my workers up and got married.”

  Harlan grinned. “Oh yes, Wilfred wrote me about that. Can’t wait to meet them.”

  “And I can’t wait to get to the hotel and put my feet up,” his wife prompted.

  “Oh, sorry.” Harlan kissed her on the cheek. “Best we get along, folks. It sure is good to be back – we’re all looking forward to a good visit.”

  “I understand you used to be sheriff here,” C.J. said, not quite ready to part with them – or rather, her – yet.

  “For over twenty years,” Harlan said. “Good years too. You staying at the men’s camp?”

  C.J. did his best not to shuffle his feet, a nervous habit he could never get past. “Yes, sir, I am.” He might as well be open with it, let the beauty think what she will. If his supposed poverty turned her away, he was better off without her.

  “One of the best things that ever happened to this town,” Harlan said. “Cyrus, I’m proud it’s still carrying on.”

  “Of course,” Cyrus said. “It helps everyone, including the men that stay there.”

  “What’s the men’s camp?” Benjamin asked.

  “After I built the hotel there were quite a few workers that didn’t want to leave Clear Creek,” Cyrus told him. “But they couldn’t afford to settle here either. So I came up with the men’s camp. They live there, do odd jobs around town, pool their money for food, and when one saves up enough they either build a place, start a farm or ranch or move on.”

  “Don’t ya ‘member that from Tom’s stories?” Calvin smacked his brother on the arm. “Amon Cotter worked at the men’s camp. He married Thackary Holmes’s daughter Nettie.” He turned to Wilfred and Cyrus. “Tom told us all sorts of stories ‘bout this place when he was deputy in Nowhere, ‘specially ‘bout those English women that came here to get hitched.”

  Wilfred laughed. “Sheriff Tom, just how many stories did you tell these fellas?”

  “Plenty. It’s why they’re here to visit – they wanna meet everyone.”

  “Tarnation, Tom,” Wilfred said. “I hope you didn’t stretch the truth too much.”

  “I didn’t do no stretchin’. I told the truth. I’m sure they cain’t wait to meet the Cookes, their cousins and the rest of ya.” He looked at the Weavers. “Ain’t that right?”

  “Right!” Calvin declared.

  “But first things first,” Benjamin added. “We need to get Ma and the women and kids to the hotel so they can rest.”

  “Do you need help carrying anything?” C.J. offered. At least he could spend a few more moments in Rufina’s company. What an unusual name. He’d have to ask her about it later.

  “Do the Cookes know you’re here?” Wilfred asked.

  “Not unless you told them,” Harlan said. “I haven’t written the boys for a few months. Between you, Cyrus and Paddy, I kept up on things.”

  “I might have mentioned you were coming for a visit, Harlan,” Cyrus said. “But I never gave them a date.”

  “Well, we’ll work out a visiting schedule later.” Harlan put an arm around his wife. “Come on, Ma, let’s get you fed and rested.” The Weavers turned and headed for the doors.

  The doors suddenly burst open. “Sheriff!” C.J. recognized Deputy O’Hare, one of three Irishmen in town along with the blind hotel manager and the saloonkeeper. The deputy went straight to Sheriff Turner and whispered something in his ear.

  The sheriff’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that so?”

  The deputy nodded, then saw the Weavers, his eyes settling on Harlan. “Sheriff Hughes!”

  “Howdy, Bran. Been a long time.” He came over and gave the deputy a big hug. C.J. had never seen so much hugging among men.

  “What is it, Tom?” Cyrus asked quietly

  Tom smiled. “Maybe ya ought to head down to the hotel and find out.”

  Cyrus exchanged a quick look with Wilfred. “Don’t keep us in suspense,” Wilfred whispered.

  Tom shrugged. “Looks like we’re gettin’ all kinds of visitors in town today.”

  “Really?” Doc said.

  “What’s this whispering about?” Grandma chimed in. “Don’t tell me it’s some big secret.”

  “No secret, Grandma,” Tom said. “It’s just I’m the one they wanna talk to at the moment.”

  “They?” Irene snapped. “Out with it, then. This isn’t one of your tall tales.”

  Tom chuckled and shook his head. “I think maybe we should go down to the hotel and ya can be surprised.”

  “That does it! Get out of my store, Tom Turner!” Irene began to shoo him toward the door.

  Calvin and Benjamin laughed.

  “And you two!” Irene spun on them. “If you’re not gonna buy anything, then you might as well go too!”

  They laughed harder.

  “Benjamin, Calvin,” Mrs. Hughes snapped. “What’s so funny?”

  “She’s just like Tom described her, Ma,” Calvin said. He looked at his brother, then gave the Clear Creek residents a sheepish grin. “Tom told us so many stories ‘bout you folks that it’s kinda like meetin’ people out of a book or somethin’.”

  “Yeah, that’s how it feels,” Benjamin agreed.

  Wilfred chuckled. “Shucks. Makes me feel kind of famous.”

  Irene smacked him in the chest. “Don’t get cocky.”

  “Oh, calm yourself, Irene. These boys aren’t doing any harm. I like them.”

  “I like them too!” she snapped. “But right now they’re taking up space. Now get out, all of you.”

  Harlan laughed as he ushered his family toward the doors again. He watched them file out followed by Doc, Grandma and Deputy O’Hare, then hesitated. “Tom?”

  “Yeah?”

  Harlan turned to him. “Who’s at the hotel?”

  Tom smiled. “Some old friends.”

  “You’re gonna make me walk down there to find out, aren’t you?”

  Tom headed for the door. “Yep.”

  “I thought so.”

  C.J. watched the men leave, then sighed in relief before he could catch himself.

  “Something the matter, son?” Cyrus asked with a knowing smile.

  “Nothing wrong,” he rasped. Oh good grief, could he make it any more obvious?

  “If I was a younger man and single, I’d react the same way,” Cyrus assured him.

  “Ohhh,” Wilfred drawled. “You’re talking about the Greek goddesses?”

  “We really should stop calling them that,” C.J. said with a frown.

  “One has to admit,” said Wilfred, “those are two beautiful women.”

  “You need to admit the shelves behind the counter are dusty and see to them!�
� Irene snapped.

  “I will – after we go down to the hotel and see who the mystery visitors are.”

  “Oh yes, that,” she said. “Very well. Let’s go.”

  Everyone headed outside except C.J., who still wondered what he would say when he saw Rufina again. She mesmerized him. What were the chances of a woman like that coming to a place like this while he was here? It was just too perfect. “Wait a minute …,” he muttered.

  “Something wrong, C.J.?” Cyrus asked, poking his head back in the door.

  C.J. stared at him. Should he ask him if his grandfather had anything to do with the Weavers’ arrival? One of the reasons he agreed to come here and learn from Cyrus was his fear of winding up in an arranged marriage. He knew his grandfather wanted him to wed before he took things over, but was afraid of gold diggers – of which Baltimore society admittedly had a few. Surely Grandpa Rufus wasn’t behind this, was he?

  Cyrus held the door open. “You coming?”

  C.J. nodded, hurried outside, then waited with Cyrus on the porch while the Dunnigans locked up. The four headed for the hotel together.

  To his dismay, C.J.’s heart beat faster with each step he took. He shouldn’t let the woman have such an effect on him. But what could he do? He was a man, after all, and anyone could see that Rufina Weaver was a stunning beauty. Hmm … aside from making sure she was single, he should find out her age. Maybe she wasn’t old enough to marry. But this was all foolishness. Besides, he wasn’t sure he wanted to tangle with the identical Mr. Weavers. He could handle himself, but to have both upset with him might prove a challenge.

  He kept pondering the possibilities as he marched toward the hotel with the others, and soon had a list of questions to ask. He’d find out what he could, then convince himself that pursuing a pretty face was a bad idea. After all, these people were only here visiting. But if his grandfather …

  “Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat!” Wilfred cried.

  C.J.’s head snapped up. He’d been so deep in thought he didn’t realize they’d reached their destination. A crowd had gathered inside the hotel lobby and was spilling out onto the front porch. “What’s all the fuss about?” he asked no one in particular.

  Sheriff Tom stood at the edge of the folks gathered on the porch, all of whom were talking excitedly. Including Harlan and his family. Had someone else arrived on the stage? No, there wouldn’t have been room. “Well, you gonna tell us who’s in there?” Wilfred asked.

 

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