Sam hadn’t been given a choice, but he decided it was better not to mention that. “No trouble.”
“Three Willows is a very special community, you see.”
“I’ve liked what I’ve seen so far.”
“We’ve been blessed with enough resources to make this almost a true oasis.”
“That was one of the first things I noticed,” said Sam. “So many plants and grass in the middle of nothing but cracked earth. I’d love to know your secret.” The mayor narrowed his eyes. Maybe Sam was laying it on too thick. “I was happy to find it, though it took some doing.”
“Mister Brooks, Sam, how exactly did you find it?”
“I’m sorry?”
Carson folded his hands on the bar counter. “Perhaps I should explain. I like to think that Three Willows is one of the New Mexican territory’s greatest treasures. Our doors are open to certain kinds of people. Do you understand?”
“I’m not sure.”
“The very founding of this town was done to provide a safe place for families to settle and start anew. Free from the hardships found in the rest of this country.”
Mamie’s comment yesterday surfaced in Sam’s mind. “Ah, I see. I’m not exactly who you’re looking for, is that what you’re saying?”
“Goodness, no. You’re not unwanted. You’re just unusual. It’s why I wanted to meet with you and hear more about your intentions.”
Carson was treating Sam like he was a schoolboy asking permission to court the mayor’s daughter.
Sam considered telling him the truth. He’d come to Three Willows because the man he called his best friend had been from here. He’d talked it up every chance he’d gotten. Before things had fallen apart, he’d made Sam promise he would visit. After Sam left the Union Army camp behind with absolutely no place else to go, he’d thought of Three Willows. In the months that had passed, fulfilling that promise was the only thing Sam had thought about, really.
But no, that wouldn’t work. This mayor seemed to enjoy keeping a tight grip on the town’s citizens. If Sam mentioned a friend, Carson would want a name, which would surely link Sam back to the army, which would lead to questions he didn’t want to answer. Carson didn’t want a fugitive in his town, he wanted a gentleman. Sam could do gentleman.
“Mayor Carson, sir, I can assure you, I’m not here to cause any trouble for the town. I’ve been traveling for some time, you see. I don’t have kin to return to, and no place to call my own. Been all over the country and never found a place that felt right.” He gave the mayor a broad smile and hoped his eyes were sparkling. “But this place, Three Willows. It feels right. This is a place a man can call home. If I’m planning to settle down anywhere, I can’t think of a better place than here.”
Mayor Carson lapped up the honey coating Sam’s words. “I can’t tell you how proud that makes me. We’re safeguarding something beautiful here.”
Guarding? Not growing? The general attitude of the country these days tended towards expanding one’s land until you ran into someone else’s. Carson, conversely, seemed quite satisfied with his patch of green in the desert.
Carson rose to his feet. “You seem like an honest man, Samuel. I think you may well find your place here.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Now, as to the matter of your residence. Our resources are a bit strapped for the remainder of the summer, so I’m afraid building won’t be possible for some weeks.” He paused, his gaze drifting off as he thought. “We can’t have you staying any longer than necessary in this place.”
Sam didn’t miss the disdain in the mayor’s voice. “Mamie has been quite friendly.”
“I’m sure she has.”
There it was again. Suddenly, the mayor beamed at him, joviality returning to his speech. “Aha! Perfect! You can let a room from our schoolteacher. I know she has the space.”
“Schoolteacher?”
“Yes. She lives alone. As a matter of fact, this may end up solving another problem entirely.”
For a man who seemed as concerned with safety as Carson was, the idea of a lone woman and a strange man living together didn’t seem to give him much pause. However, there was no way Sam could bring that up without looking like a scoundrel. This felt like a test. Fare well with the schoolteacher, and he could be officially welcomed into town. Sam wasn’t one to say no to a challenge, and since he’d made up his mind to stay in Three Willows, it was a challenge he’d have to meet. “I’m happy to help,” he said, “and mighty grateful for your hospitality.”
Carson clapped a hand on his shoulder. “If you’re looking for hospitality, you couldn’t be in a better place.”
Sam was certain he wouldn’t have been offered that sentiment if he had failed the mayor’s little interview. But what the heck. He could be nice. Maybe a dose of peace and tranquility was exactly what he needed. And being in a town that was practically off the map was a great plus.
“I’ll have a word with her tonight and we’ll see about getting you settled in the morning,” the mayor continued.
“Wonderful.”
Carson gave Sam another long look up and down before placing his hands on his hips, looking as satisfied as a dog with a bone. “Samuel Brooks. We’re glad to have you.”
5
“I SUPPOSE I DON’T UNDERSTAND what everyone is fighting about? Or who’s fighting? There aren’t soldiers, it’s not a war. It just seems like everyday people fighting in the street.”
Jessalyn closed her own copy of A Tale of Two Cities and tried to recall her own knowledge of French history. She and Lilah had been reading the book a chapter at a time. Usually their discussions centered on the nature of the writing itself, vocabulary, tone, those sorts of things. Tonight, however, Lilah was focused on the content.
“That’s right, it’s not a war,” Jessalyn said. “This book is set during the French Revolution. It was a time when the French people felt as though they weren’t being treated fairly by their monarch and rebelled, often with violence.”
Lilah tilted her head to the side. “Monarch?”
“Their king. Governments that are controlled by kings are called monarchies.”
“I’ve always wondered. Who decides who gets to be king?”
Jessalyn smiled. When Lilah asked a question, another one was surely around the corner. At times, the discussions reminded Jessalyn of her days in college, surrounded by books, diving deep into the intricacies of literature with her classmates. “Well, that’s the issue. Royal families believe that they deserve to rule, that they were given the right by a higher power. So, when the king has a son, he becomes the next king, and so on. No one chooses. In our country, our government is a democracy, which means the people do choose who leads them. We do this with elections.”
“So, Mayor Carson was elected?” Lilah asked, rubbing the end of her braid between her fingers.
“He was.”
“But . . . Mayor Carson has been the mayor of Three Willows since I was born.”
“He’s been reelected several times. People are happy with the job he’s done.”
“But wasn’t his father the mayor before him?”
“I believe that’s true, yes.”
“And his father was the mayor before that.”
“Well—”
“So isn’t that a monarchy?”
“It’s not quite the same thing, Lilah.” The girl did have a point. Three Willows wasn’t exactly the typical American town in a government sense. “We’re almost alone out here in the middle of the territory. I think most people are more concerned with having successful harvests than becoming a hotbed of political turmoil.”
“Turmoil?”
“Trouble. Disorder. Chaos,” Jessalyn defined. “Mayor Carson and the other Founders work hard so that Three Willows stays safe.”
“Sounds like a big job,” Lilah said. “I’m not sure anyone else would want it.”
The girl
was right. For as long as Jessalyn had lived in Three Willows, no one had ever had any complaint with the way the Founders ran things. Mayor Carson kept order, Reverend Finley kept faith, and Mamie Piper oversaw the town’s businesses. It was a system that worked. Even if someone were to take issue, Mayor Carson would surely opt to settle things over tea than pave the way for an uprising.
Lilah suddenly clapped her hands together, bringing Jessalyn’s mind out of the dark and dangerous streets of revolting France. “Oh, before I forget.” She rose from her seat and fetched a large covered basket she had left by the door upon her arrival. “Here, Miss Joy. There’s bread, vegetables from Jule’s farm, and some of the roast we made this week. Mama wanted me to bring these to you,” she added.
Jessalyn looked at the basket. Margaret Templeton, Lilah’s mother, had never been a great friend of hers. For reasons she suspected, but had never confirmed, Margaret had all but shown outright animosity for Jessalyn ever since she’d arrived in Three Willows. Glancing at the slightly sloppy wrapping of the food contained in the basket, Jessalyn felt fairly certain that Lilah had packed this herself. A twinge of something cold and dark went through her mind. “That’s kind of Margaret, but I couldn’t. Your mother has enough people to cook for already without thinking of me.”
Lilah pushed the basket forward again, insistent. “Which is why she always makes too much anyway. Please? It’s a thank-you for helping me. And, I . . .” Lilah looked away. “I might have noticed that you weren’t cooking for yourself much these days . . .”
“I get by.”
“Miss Joy. Please?”
Jessalyn restrained a grimace. She thought she had been holding well enough together, but how bad must things be if she was attracting the pity of a teenager? But seeing Lilah’s face made her shake off all such feelings. “I’m sorry, Lilah. Of course. This is very generous. Thank you.”
A knock at the door interrupted the conversation.
“You expecting someone?” Lilah asked.
“I’m not.” Jessalyn rose and answered her front door. She was greeted by the portly figure of Ebenezer Carson.
“Evening, Jessalyn. Do forgive me for dropping by so late.” The mayor certainly wasn’t an unwelcome sight. His visits had only increased in number since Amos’s departure to war.
“Mayor Carson! We were just talking about you!” said Lilah.
“Oh? Favorably, I hope.”
Jessalyn nodded. “Just a little extracurricular civics lesson.”
Carson hooked his thumbs under his lapels. “I see, I see. Well, why don’t you run home, Miss Templeton. And be quick about it. Looks like a storm is brewing out there.”
Jessalyn glanced outside. Indeed, the winds were picking up and the usual bright colors of sunset were covered by clouds.
“Gosh, you’re right.” Lilah gathered up her books. “I’ll be off then. Thank you, Mayor. Goodbye, Miss Joy!”
“Good night, Lilah.” Jessalyn waved as Lilah left her house in a blur of skirts. She turned her attention back to Carson.
He removed his hat and took Lilah’s place at her table, gesturing for Jessalyn to do the same. “I must say, Jessalyn. I’m impressed. Since your building of the schoolhouse, I’ve seen such a change in the youth of Three Willows. They’re engaged. And they adore you.”
Jessalyn wasn’t sure what to make of this praise. Carson had let her know his feelings towards her efforts before, and had been one of her prime benefactors. The compliment alone certainly wasn’t enough to warrant a house call. “I try to do my part, Ebenezer. You know that.”
“Right, right. But . . .” he trailed off.
“But?”
Carson leaned forward. “I have to confess. I’m worried. You’ve been a Three Willows resident for several years now, and recent circumstances aside . . .” Carson paused again, his face twisting, as if whatever he was trying to say brought him great pain. “I’m not sure I see you really settling into the community.”
Jessalyn didn’t know what she had expected Carson to say, but it wasn’t that. “I’m afraid I’m feeling a bit blindsided. You just said I was doing good work.”
“Professionally, yes, you’ve found a place, but there are other areas of your life that need cultivation, shall we say.”
Jessalyn’s shoulders stiffened. “I’ve never been much of a social butterfly, Ebenezer. Never thought it was something I had to apologize for.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. We’d just like to see you away from the school and your house. This town only thrives because we all band together, right?”
There it was. The Royal We. The indomitable will of the Founders that was behind every decision made in Three Willows. Anything that happened in town, from new residents moving in, to buildings, to orders for supplies, went through them. If someone acted in a way that threatened to disrupt the town’s peace, you could expect a visit from one of them. Jessalyn could just imagine the mayor, the reverend and Mamie Piper discussing the private lives of all the townsfolk, making judgements about who was and wasn’t fitting in. It was another thing that had been easier with Amos. Jessalyn had gone out of her way, under Amos’s guidance, to win their favor, but it seemed as though her luck was running out.
She had tried. Tried to get to know the other wives in town, but the gaps between their interests and hers were so vast that Jessalyn found the interactions draining. There was plenty of fulfillment in her work, and that should matter more than anything else.
“If you expect me to give up my teaching to meet some sort of town sociability standard—”
Carson held up a hand. “There’s no need to ruffle those feathers. Just listen to me. I have a proposition for you. We’ve had a newcomer arrive in town. He’s without a family or any sort of living arrangements. It’s all a rather unique situation. He’s looking to stay on, and there’s not much we can offer him until summer’s end. For the meantime, I’d like to ask if you had interest in taking on a boarder.”
Jessalyn couldn’t contain her shock. “Your solution for expanding my social circle is asking that I invite a stranger into my home? We have a perfectly functional hotel in this town, Ebenezer. Why am I being brought into this?”
“Because we feel it would be good for you.” We, again. “This will last for a few weeks at most. Play at welcoming committee. You remember what it was like, settling in here. Helping him adjust to the way we do things will help you as well. Don’t they say the best way to learn something is to teach it? This is an opportunity for renewal. I urge you to take it.”
Jessalyn’s indignation boiled. Ebenezer Carson was a fair and honest man, but listening to him talk of this plan he had concocted as though it would solve everything for her? It was an outrage. If this was the ruling being forced on her, maybe she was more aligned with the French revolutionaries than she thought. She ought to refuse him and ask him to leave her property. But she couldn’t do that. Amos wouldn’t do that. The thought crashed over her like a wave. Amos would have said yes to this plan in a heartbeat. Charity came so naturally to him in a way it never had to Jessalyn.
“Please, Jessalyn. It’s time to open up the windows.”
Amos would have said yes. Nothing else needed to be said.
“I suppose. I could. I do have a spare room. Just for a few weeks.” Her reply was quiet, but Carson smacked his hands together in joy.
“That’s the spirit! Thank you very much, Jessalyn. I’ll bring him by in the morning, then.”
“Mm.”
“You’re a fine woman, Jessalyn Joy. You do us proud.” Carson rose, retrieving his hat. “Now, I’ll be off and hopefully beat the rain back to my door. ‘Til morning.”
After he left, Jessalyn locked the door behind him, and the quiet settled in. She had really just agreed to that. One conversation and tomorrow morning, she’d be hosting a strange man in her home. Amos’s home. She knew she ought to be happy to help someone in need, but she just felt like screa
ming. Greater good or not, she felt forced to swallow her own self and wants. It was a horridly familiar feeling.
“Open the windows, Jessa.” She muttered an echo of Carson’s words to her.
She stood in front of the set of double windows across from her kitchen. Rain was just starting to dot the dirt road. Not too far away, lightning illuminated the rough curves of the clouds. Jessalyn flicked open the latch and let the windows clatter open. The wind harassing the trees sailed towards her, bringing rain with it, spattering her face. She didn’t have to wait long for the low rumble of thunder.
6
Dearest Jessa,
It was daunting at first, being one of the only men from our town to join with the volunteer infantry, being expected to work together with a group of strangers, but I find that one of the marvels of humanity is how quickly we can drop our walls. Doc, Joker, Shadow, Franklin, another man we call Chief, even I have my own silly moniker. My work teaching the other men first aid has earned me the title of “Saint Joy.” I’ll be honest, Jessa, these are some of the closest friends I think I’ve ever made, and I never would have had the chance had I not opened opportunity’s door. My greatest friend, however, will always be you, Jessa. I await your next letter, and to hear about the chances you’ll take.
Until my heart stops beating, Amos.
JESSALYN SIGHED. A NIGHT’S REST had done little to grant her any peace of mind regarding her newly assigned task. No matter which way she looked at it, this felt like a punishment. Like she had let down Ebenezer in some way and was now paying for it.
It was moments like this that she longed for Amos’s ease when it came to people. Perhaps her desire to absorb that ease was what had reminded her of this letter, where he spoke in such favor of his fellow soldiers.
But that was a war. What Amos was experiencing were bonds forged in the fires of loyalty and bravery. It was different here. It was different for her. All that morning Jessalyn wrestled with her own thoughts, trying to take Amos’s advice and be open to new opportunities, while also feeling infuriated by the whole thing.
Then Came the Thunder Page 3