Amon

by Kit Morgan

  “She’s a pistol, to be sure!” agreed Mrs. Upton. “But I like her. She’s got grit – a woman needs that around here.”

  “Grit?” Nettie asked as she glanced around the table.

  “She means that Cousin Imogene is a strong woman,” Eloise explained. “Anyone who bags a tiger would be.”

  “You mean the stories are true?” Newton asked. “I’d heard rumors around the manor.”

  “And in the stables?” Nettie whispered under her breath.

  Newton cleared his throat. “Yes, there too.”

  Eloise gave them a quizzical look and was about to ask what they meant when Mrs. Upton set a plate of cookies on the table and put one of them into her hands. “Try it, honey – I put a little something extra in this batch. Tell me if ya like it.”

  Eloise smiled and took a small bite. She chewed thoughtfully a moment, then smiled again. “These are delicious! What did you add?”

  “I’ll never tell!” Mrs. Upton crowed. “I can’t afford the information to leak out, lest that Irene Dunnigan gets her hands on it!”

  Newton looked at his sister, who was staring at him in confusion. “The Duke mentioned a Mrs. Dunnigan …”

  Mrs. Upton rolled her eyes. “That’s the one – and she’s a real piece of work. Though underneath the rough exterior, she’s not so bad. You just have to know how to handle her.”

  Eloise giggled. “Mrs. Upton and Mrs. Dunnigan are both incredible cooks – and rivals. Don’t put them in the same kitchen together.”

  “It’s true, let me tell ya,” Mrs. Upton agreed. “But you don’t have to worry none about that if you’re living at the hotel for a while. You’ll eat all your meals here, I’ll make sure of it.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” Newton told her. “We appreciate your eagerness to see to our needs.”

  She waved a hand at him. “Don’t think nothing of it, honey! Besides, I’m not happy unless I’ve got some folks to cook for. Nothing better than cooking for a handsome man!”

  Nettie tried not to smirk as she watched her brother’s ears turn pink. He wore his hair long and had it tied back today, so she had an exceptional view of his embarrassment. She couldn’t help but lean toward him when Mrs. Upton turned to the tea cart. “She’s single and in want of a husband …” she said under her breath.

  “Quiet, you,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Ah, don’t worry, honey. I may tease you about getting married, but you’re too scrawny for me. I like the big men!”

  Newton’s mouth dropped open and he unconsciously glanced at himself. He was six feet tall, and didn’t consider himself “scrawny” by any means. He wondered what sort of giant Mrs. Upton was referring to.

  “Mrs. Upton is holding out for someone like Mr. Berg,” Eloise explained. “He was the old blacksmith. I hear he was a giant.”

  “You got that right, honey!” Mrs. Upton sighed. “That fellow was a big hunk of beef. Now you enjoy your tea – I’m off to the kitchen to see what I can whip up for lunch.” Within moments she was gone.

  Nettie took a slow sip of her tea. The hot liquid felt good going down, and she wondered how long she could make the cup last before pouring another.

  “I hear Sadie and Belle are coming to town this afternoon,” Eloise announced. “The ladies’ sewing circle is meeting. Perhaps you’d like to join us?”

  Nettie looked up at her. “Sewing circle? What’s that?”

  Eloise set down her cup. “It’s when women get together at the mercantile and sew, what else?”

  “In a circle,” Newton chuckled.

  Nettie sent her brother a glare, then looked at Eloise. “However does that work?”

  “It’s how we made our wedding dresses, not to mention a quilt. Everyone works together.”

  “I see,” Nettie said with a slow nod. “And how many women will be there?”

  “All of those in town. If everyone shows up, there’s at least sixteen. You’d bring it up to seventeen.”

  “That many?” Newton remarked. “I suppose the mercantile gets quite snug. But I’m sure Nettie would be glad to come.”

  “Do not think to answer for me,” she snapped. “Perhaps I do not want to join them.”

  “You’re going to have to meet them sooner or later – why not all at once?”

  Nettie set her teacup down and pushed back her chair to stand.

  Newton reached out and put his hand over one of hers. “Don’t.”

  She stopped. “Don’t what?”

  “Run. You’ve done that far too often. I’ll go with you if I must.”

  Nettie’s eyes flicked to Eloise, who watched them with curiosity. “I’m not ready to meet so many.” She turned her attention to her brother. “Can’t I simply … rest in my room today?”

  “You’ve done nothing but rest for three days. It’s time we ventured out.”

  “Newton, please …”

  “It will be good for both of us. And I’ll be right by your side,” he said, his voice low.

  Eloise cleared her throat. “We meet once a week – you … don’t have to come if you’re not ready. I understand what it’s like to be new in a strange place. I was terribly nervous when we first arrived and had to meet everyone.”

  “That’s the problem, Mrs. Jones. My sister doesn’t quite know how she feels, and I can sympathize with her in that regard, but we can’t stay locked in our rooms.”

  “I understand. The circle meets at one o’clock today. I’ll wait for you in the lobby of the hotel if you’d like to come.”

  Nettie looked away, then slowly nodded. “I’m sure by then I will have decided.”

  Newton squeezed her hand. “Don’t make me decide for both of us. It’s high time we both rejoined the world.”

  * * *

  “Do you think he’ll say yes?” Colin Cooke asked as he mounted his horse.

  His brother Harrison followed suit and swung himself up in the saddle. He gave his mare Juliet a light kick to get her moving and rode up beside his brother. “Of course he will. Why wouldn’t he? Nettie Whitman is the only eligible female around for hundreds of miles.”

  “Nettie Holmes,” Colin corrected. “And we’d best not forget it. She is our dear cousin Thackary's child, and I do hope she doesn’t follow in her father’s footsteps.”

  “Quite right,” Harrison agreed. “But she and her brother have been far removed from their father all these years. From what I understand, they’ve never seen him.”

  “So they say.”

  “I’m sure Duncan would have checked to make sure everything is on the square. You know his attention to detail.”

  “I imagine he still has it, now that he’s a duke,” Colin said with a chuckle. “I also hope you’re right. I’d hate to think that our newfound relatives are in cahoots with their father in any way.”

  “Though it would explain why they’re here,” Harrison mused with a furrowed brow.

  “But Duncan says otherwise,” Colin replied. “It was his idea to send her here. His letter says that Newton Holmes approached him about finding a suitable husband for his sister. But Newton didn’t expect him to suggest America.”

  “Yes,” Harrison conceded with a sigh. “But after all the trouble Thackary caused for our family, one can’t be too careful.”

  “True enough,” Colin said and kicked his horse into a trot. “First things first, however – let’s see if Amon Cotter is agreeable to the idea of getting married.”

  “I’m telling you, there won’t be a problem!” Harrison called after him then got Juliet moving with a loud whistle. She took off at a canter to catch up to Colin.

  They rode side-by-side at an easy canter, letting the horses naturally slow to a walk for the remainder of their trip to town. Once there, they checked the mercantile and then the saloon in search of Amon. When they couldn’t find him in Clear Creek, they ventured out to “the men’s camp,” where some of the men who’d worked on the hotel were living in a large cabin the
y’d built for themselves on the edge of town.

  The place had been Mr. Van Cleet’s idea. A community bunkhouse of sorts, it could sleep up to sixteen men. It had a cookstove and dry sink at one end, along with two long tables and benches. The rest of the cabin was taken up by sleeping cots lined along the walls. A potbellied stove at the other end helped keep the place warm at night during the winter months. There was also a barn with a corral off to one side.

  Colin and Harrison’s wives, Belle and Sadie, had dubbed it the “bachelor house,” which fit. Though some of the men had left Clear Creek to find work elsewhere, at least ten had stayed behind to carve out a life in the community, doing odd jobs around the area. Every so often, one of them would have a whiskey too many and raise a little Cain, but mostly they were a quiet lot.

  The men rode up to a hitching post, dismounted and tethered their horses. “No one seems to be about,” Harrison said as he glanced around. “No, wait – there’s Jasper!”

  “Howdy Harrison, Colin!” Jasper Crabtree came out of the barn. He was an older gent, small and wiry, but strong as an ox. Among other jobs, he cooked most of the men’s meals for them.

  “Jasper!” Colin called across the yard. “How are you?”

  “Well, if you can’t hear m’bones creakin’, then I guess I’m doin’ okay. What brings y’out here? Need some work done around yer place?”

  “Not at the moment,” Harrison said. “We’re looking for Amon Cotter. Is he around?”

  “No, he done rode out to the tree line lookin’ for wood. Says he wants to find some nice pieces to make a dresser ‘n a few other things.”

  “Yes,” Colin said with a smile. “He’s a fine craftsman, Amon. In fact, I’d like to have him make some things for Belle.”

  “Like maybe a cradle?” Jasper asked with a wink.

  “Exactly,” Colin chuckled. “Which means I’d better ask him sooner rather than later.”

  “I’ll tell’m you were here and want some work done.”

  “But that’s not the only reason we need to speak with him,” Harrison said. “We have something else we’d like to ask him.”

  “I can pass it along if y’like,” Jasper offered.

  “No,” Colin said as he glanced at Harrison. “This is best done face-to-face.”

  “Well, I reckon ya’d hafta ride out and find’m yourselves, then.”

  Harrison and Colin exchanged another quick glance. Harrison shrugged. “We have time. We could get it over with so we don’t have to come back to town tomorrow.”

  “You’re quite right,” Colin agreed. “Best get to it, then.” He tipped his hat to Jasper. “We’ll see you later.”

  “Oh, ‘n another thing,” Jasper said as they remounted their horses. “Y’oughta know that Clinton Moresy got in last night.”

  Harrison looked at him. “Clinton Moresy? What’s he doing back in Clear Creek? I thought he was on his way to Oregon City.”

  “Mrs. White told’m there was a woman in town,” Jasper said sheepishly.

  “Ah, dear Mrs. White … she does keep up on things, doesn’t she?” Colin sighed as he turned his horse.

  “News travels fast,” Harrison agreed. “Our newfound relatives have only been here a few days. Wait … Jasper, how could she possibly know about them this soon? Are the Whites nearby right now?”

  “Yep – camped not far outta town. Y’know how they like to come to Clear Creek every couple of years and stock up. ‘Bout that time.”

  “You’re right, it is,” Harrison agreed. “I wish they hadn’t mentioned anything to Clinton, though.”

  “Yeah, well,” Jasper replied with a wave of his hand. “If’n it was male relations of yers, Clinton’d be long gone, but it’s a woman, so he’s inter’sted.”

  “That would be fine and good,” Harrison remarked, “if he didn’t gamble his money away every week. I’m afraid he’s not exactly husband material.”

  Jasper shrugged. “Just sayin’ he’s inter’sted, not that he’d be any good at it. I’m sure he’ll seek y’out soon enough.”

  “Where is he now?” Colin asked.

  “Don’t right know. He got up early this mornin’ ‘n headed into town. Said he was plannin’ to get a shave and a bath. Must be serious for’m to get all prettied up.”

  “A bath?” Harrison said in shock. “Clinton? My, he is serious.”

  “I’m afraid he’s also out of luck, poor chap,” Colin said. “Thank you for the information, Jasper.”

  “Yer welcome,” he said and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Be seein’ ya!”

  Harrison and Colin tipped their hats, whistled to their horses and took off at a canter for the tree line. They had to make sure they got their business with Amon Cotter settled today, lest Clinton Moresy be on their doorstep tomorrow.

  Two

  Amon Cotter went around one tree, then another. He took a few steps back and stared at each a moment before circling them again. He lifted a hand, his heart beating in anticipation, reached out and touched the rough bark of one. A shudder traveled through him and he sucked in a breath. Yes, this tree would do nicely.

  He brought up his other hand and ran it over the trunk before walking around it once more. He stopped, pulled out a knife, marked the tree for future use, then brushed the loose bits of bark away. A perfect letter “A” now graced the tree, claiming it for him. When he was ready he’d return, cut it down and prepare it. The beautiful pine would make some lovely pieces he could sell.

  He took a shaky breath at the thought, almost as if he’d just proposed to it and it said yes. He chuckled at the thought, re-sheathed his knife, then looked up at the sky. A brilliant blue. He reached a hand up and spread his fingers in the sunlight, breathed in a lungful of air, let it slowly, did it again …

  Power surged through him, as if the sunlight had awoken something deep within him. Perhaps it had. God’s creation always did enliven him, and the more time he spent in it the better he felt. But what really gave him satisfaction was when he was creating something. To take a block of wood and carve it into a masterpiece was his ultimate joy. And he was good at it, too.

  Amon turned back to the tree, traced the “A” he’d carved into the bark and smiled. “You’ll cradle a child, I promise. You’ll keep things for a woman, maybe clothes for her husband. And serve me as well.” He smiled again.

  Then he froze. “Talking to trees again, Amon?” a familiar voice teased.

  Amon sighed at the interruption. “Mr. Cooke, what brings you out here?” he asked as he turned.

  Colin and Harrison dismounted and led their horses to where he stood. “Looking for you,” Harrison said.

  “You’ve found me, sirs. What can I do for you?”

  “We’d like to talk to you about something, if we may,” Colin told him.

  Amon glanced between them and nodded. “I’m listening.”

  Colin blew out a breath. “Well, we were wondering … if … well, if you’d like to get married.”

  Amon took a step back. “Married? Whatever gave you that idea?”

  “Perhaps my brother isn’t explaining this well,” Harrison said. “What he means is, we have a distant relation that arrived in town a few days ago and Duncan has tasked us with seeing to it that she marry. And, well, you came to mind as –”

  “No.” Amon said.

  Colin and Harrison exchanged a glance. “No?” Colin said. “What do you mean, no?”

  “I mean no,” Amon repeated as he reached out to one of the horses and stroked its nose in greeting.

  The brothers looked at each other again. “No, as in, you don’t want to listen, or no, as in you don’t understand?” Harrison tried to clarify.

  “No, as in I don’t want to get married,” Amon stated.

  Colin and Harrison stared at him in astonishment. “You … you don’t?” Colin said. “What man in this town doesn’t want to get married?”

  “This one,” Amon said and jabbed a thumb at his chest for emphasis. He tu
rned on his heel and started to walk to his own horse.

  “Hm,” Harrison said. “I didn’t see that coming.”

  “Neither did I,” said Colin. “Amon, wait!” He followed, leading his horse behind him. “Hear us out, man!”

  Amon turned as he reached his mount. “I’ve heard you,” he said politely. “You want me to marry your relative. I’ve told you I don’t wish to marry, at all, to your relative or anyone’s. Simple as that.”

  “But you don’t understand …”

  Amon mounted up and looked at the brothers in exasperation. “What is there to understand, other than I’ve just told you no?” He spurred his horse and was off like a shot, leaving the Cooke brothers behind him with their mouths hanging open.

  He felt a pang of sadness for being so abrupt, but why had they had to keep pressing him? No meant no, didn’t it? Besides, the wind in his face and the smell of pine trees and summer grasses were more important to him in that moment than the two men he’d left behind. Right now, he needed to ride and ride fast. He needed to feel like he was flying.

  But the thing he needed most was to understand why.

  * * *

  Amon raced back to the bunkhouse, dismounted and started to walk his horse Manuel in a circle. He was breathing almost as hard as the animal, and checked again to see if the Cooke brothers had followed him. But no, there was no sign of them. Well, that was a mercy.

  He wondered if they were upset with him or questioned his odd behavior. Who wouldn’t? He couldn’t explain it himself at times. All he knew was that at times he had to race his horse across the prairie, feel the rush of wind, his mount’s muscles bunching underneath him as he urged it to go faster. To be one with … everything.

  That, and he had a visceral reaction against being tied down or kept away from nature. Marry? That would mean being trapped, unable to spend the days alone, expected to stay inside on beautiful starry nights, depended upon to be home for supper and keep the house and make small talk and …

  He shuddered. No. Not for him. He’d wither and die like a seedling in a cave, unable to stretch toward the sunlight. No, a thousand times no.