by Kit Morgan
Seth sat at the table. “Encounter?”
“Yes. I met a man in the woods. An odd sort of chap.”
Seth leaned forward and stared at him. “Really? How so?”
“He was African, for one. And huge.”
Seth’s eyes widened. “Well, that is odd around here … wait, you said African, not Negro? Did he have a funny accent?”
“Yes – that’s why I assumed he was from Africa. He didn’t sound like an American Negro.”
“Hmmmm …” Seth rubbed his chin. “Huge, you say. Just tall, or wide too?”
“Both.”
“He laugh a lot?”
Newton stared at him. “Yes, he did. Do you know him?”
Seth chuckled. “I might, actually. My brother and I know a fellow like you describe.”
“And he said he knew my father, Thackary Holmes,” Newton stated flatly.
“Well, he would’ve at least heard of him if he’s been hanging around these parts awhile. He and his wife usually like to keep to themselves, so they could’ve been camped outside of town for months for all I know.”
“Is he dangerous?”
“No, not at all. Quite the opposite. Though I suppose if someone had a mind to start something with him, he’d be a handful, big as he is.”
“How on earth do you know this man?” Newton asked, perplexed.
“Ryder and I met him and his wife a long time ago. Heck, we were just boys then. If it hadn’t been for the Awahnees, we’d probably be dead.”
“Awahnee?” Newton repeated. “Is he a free man?” Slavery had been a dead issue in Britain for a generation, but here it was still very much alive – and enough of a bone of contention to spark a civil war, to hear Ryder and Amon tell it.
“Oh yeah, he and his wife. They’re … well, how can I describe them? They just help folks out. They taught Ryder and me how to survive in the wild. They have good relations with the Indians. We first met them in what’s now the Arizona Territory and were surprised to discover later that they’d come up to Oregon.”
“When did you find that out?”
“A couple of weeks ago. Mr. Awahnee aided Deputy Bran and Apple and got them out of a tight fix right before you and Miss Nettie showed up.”
Newton sat back in his chair. “Intriguing. But what dealings would he have had with Thackary Holmes?”
“I have no idea. But I’ll let Ryder know you ran into him. Why don’t you ride out with us to look for them? If we find them, you can ask him yourself.”
Newton sighed heavily. “Perhaps. Or maybe you could ask him for me.”
“Sure, if you don’t want to go.”
He was about to comment when Nettie and Eloise entered. “Are we late?” Nettie asked.
Newton and Seth stood and pulled chairs out for them. “No. Mrs. Upton hasn’t shown up yet,” said Seth.
“I’m famished,” Nettie said. She looked around the room and finally sat. “It’s not like Mrs. Upton not to be here. She’s usually busying herself about the room until we arrive.”
“I wonder what’s keeping her?” Eloise asked.
They got their answer soon enough when Cutty came out of the kitchen, a spring in his step. “Wait’ll ya see what’s for supper!” He practically danced to the table, took a chair and sat.
“My, but you’re in a spritely mood,” Nettie commented with a smile.
“Mrs. Upton’s making somethin’ special for ya!”
“For us?” Nettie asked.
“Yep, you and yer brother.”
“How nice,” Nettie said with a smile.
Mrs. Upton came out of the kitchen then, pushing a cart. “Here we are! Sorry I’m a few minutes late, but Cutty changed my dinner plans and suggested I do something to make you two feel more at home.”
“How very kind,” Newton said. “What have you prepared?”
“Tonight I’m serving Filet de Boeuf and Mushrooms, fried potatoes, tomato salad and a special dessert.”
“My my!” Seth said around a grin. “Not the usual fried chicken and mashed potatoes, is it, Mrs. Upton?”
“Sounds wonderful,” Nettie added.
Mrs. Upton beamed, set a tureen of soup on the table and began to serve. Everyone watched as she happily took care of everyone, then disappeared back into the kitchen. Seth said the blessing and they began to eat. “I had no idea our dear Mrs. Upton knew anything about your country,” he said.
“Nor did I,” added Eloise.
“Yes, how did she know about a dish such as Filet de Boeuf and Mushrooms?” asked Nettie. “Why not simply say beef with mushrooms?”
Newton glanced at Cutty, who was slurping up his soup as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He finally noticed all eyes were on him. “Well, don’t look at me! She prob’ly got herself some fancy new cookbook.”
“Indeed, I’m sure that’s it,” Newton said, then began to eat.
Cutty’s eyes darted around the table before he resumed his meal and tried to hide his relief.
* * *
The next day, Cutty woke early, went downstairs and made sure he got to Mrs. Upton before his children did. After all, it wouldn’t do to have the woman inform Newton and Nettie that the menu last night had been his idea. As it was, he’d told Mrs. Upton it was something he’d seen in a book somewhere. He wasn’t about to tell her it was a note his own cook had written down and stuffed between the pages of a cookery book at his London townhouse.
He managed to have the conversation quickly, and was just finishing his last bite of leftover fried potatoes when Nettie entered the dining room. “Good morning, Cutty. It’s going to be a beautiful day.”
“How can ya tell? Ya ain’t been outside yet.”
“My room does have a window,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.
He laughed at her wit. She was a fast one, he had to give her that. Must come from his side of the family. “Always keep my curtains drawn. I don’t like it when the sun shines in my eyes at first light.”
“Nothing shines in your eyes at first light. It takes at least an hour for it to reach that side of the hotel.”
He laughed again. “Okay, ya got me.”
“Someone around here has to keep you on your toes.” She sat and looked at the food on the table. “Oh dear, did I oversleep?”
“Nope, I just thought I’d help Mrs. Upton and set the table. Care for a corn muffin?”
“Thank you, don’t mind if I do,” she said and plucked one from a plate.
She’d just started to butter it when Newton joined them. “Did I oversleep?”
“No,” she answered. “Cutty beat us to it again.”
“At least you left something this time,” he told Cutty dryly.
Cutty rolled his eyes. “Ya spend a few winters half-starved, ya learn to pack it away when it’s in front of ya.”
“I meant no offense,” Newton assured him. “On the contrary, I admire you for surviving such an ordeal. By all means, man, eat your fill. You deserve to.”
Cutty bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling. “That’s … a mighty kind thing to tell a fella. A lot of folks would make fun of the situation.”
“Whatever for?” Nettie asked, appalled. “A man with no home, no money, no food? It’s a horrible state to be in, that much is certain.”
“Yeah, but that ain’t always what folks look at,” Cutty said. “It all comes down to the why of it.”
“You mean how you got that way,” Newton corrected.
“Me, you, Nettie, any of us. Some folks feel like you do, but most don’t.”
“Well, if someone winds up in that position through no fault of their own, then who wouldn’t admire them for surviving it?” Nettie asked.
Cutty hung his head. “I can think of a few.”
“One thing’s for sure,” Newton said. “Your circumstances have certainly left you blameless.”
Cutty’s head came up. “Blameless?”
“Of course. Here you are, volunteering your time
to chaperone Nettie and Amon and doing a splendid job too, I might add. Which brings me to my point – would a man of unsavory character do such a thing?”
“He might for a few hot meals and a roof over his head,” said Cutty.
“I can see that,” Newton agreed. “But I’ve also seen your interactions with Nettie and Amon. Someone with no interest wouldn’t act such a way. The difference is, you care.”
Cutty looked away and stabbed at the last of his potatoes with his fork. “Speaking of Amon, any word he’s gonna come callin’ today?”
“Not yet,” Nettie said. “But how is one to know?”
“We could always visit him at the men’s camp,” Cutty suggested.
Nettie set down her fork and turned to Newton. “Could we? I think I’d like to see it.”
“How many men live there?” Newton asked.
“Not as many as used to – ‘bout a half a dozen or so. The only ones in the camp durin’ the day are Jasper and Amon – the others do odd jobs ‘round town or go out huntin’.”
“Hmm,” Newton mused. “I am curious to see how Mr. Cotter makes such beautiful furniture. All right, then – we’ll go after breakfast.”
“Lovely!” Nettie said, then took a bite of her muffin.
“Providing Seth will loan us his wagon,” Newton added.
“He hangs ‘round the hotel all day,” Cutty said. “Ain’t like he needs it.”
“I’ll ask him after we finish here,” Newton decided.
“Perhaps Amon could come back to town with us and have lunch,” suggested Nettie.
“Maybe if he has all his work done,” Cutty said. “From what I know of him, once he starts somethin’, he likes to finish it.”
As soon as they were done with breakfast they went to find Seth, only to see him coming down the stairs, obviously dressed to go riding. “Where ya goin’?” Cutty asked.
“Ryder and I have some business to attend to.”
“Does it involve yer wagon?”
“No, why?”
“We’d like to borrow it to go to the men’s camp if it’s all right with you,” Newton told him. “But if the horse you’re taking is usually used for the wagon …”
“No, it’s fine. I never use my own personal horse to pull a wagon. Ask Chase Adams at the livery stable – he’ll hitch up a couple for you. But Cutty, I was going to ask you for a favor. Would you mind watching the front desk for a few hours?”
“Me? Why me?” Cutty asked.
“I’d thought you’d all be hanging around the hotel until this afternoon. I suppose I could ask Mrs. Upton.”
“Could you?” Nettie asked. “I’d very much like for Cutty to come with us.”
Seth smiled and nodded. “I understand. I’ll talk with her right now.” He tipped his hat then strode toward the dining room.
“Whew!” Cutty exclaimed.
“What’s the matter?” Nettie asked with concern.
“Last thing I wanna do’s babysit a hotel! You two are more fun!” The three of them laughed, then headed for the livery stable.
It didn’t take long for Chase, the blacksmith, to hitch up Seth’s wagon for them. Newton helped Nettie onto the seat from one side, while Cutty scrambled up on the other. Once they were settled, Chase handed Cutty the reins.
Cutty stared at them and gulped.
“What's the matter?” Chase asked.
“No … um, nothin’,” Cutty said and took the reins out of his hand. He gripped them, trying not to think about how he’d only ever driven a wagon once before, and that for Ryder. Every other time, he’d been just a passenger.
“Tell Amon and Jasper hello for me, will you?” Chase asked.
Cutty gulped again. “Will do.” He took a deep breath and, just as he’d seen others do countless times, gave the horses a slap with the reins to get them moving. The wagon lurched forward and Cutty sighed in relief. “That wasn’t so hard,” he muttered to himself. Now all he had to worry about was how to get out to the men’s camp. How hard could steering a wagon be?
“Does it take a long time to build a house?” Nettie asked out of the blue.
“Why?” asked Newton. “Are you wondering how long you’ll have to live in the hotel?”
“I like to know these things.”
“Let the menfolk worry about that,” Cutty said as he wondered how hard it would be to get the horses to turn right. They were going to have to leave the main road after about a mile and he wanted to be prepared.
“I would think having one’s own home would be much preferable to living in a room at the hotel,” Nettie commented.
“I’d be more concerned with seeing how things turn out between you and Amon,” Cutty said to stir up conversation.
It was a mistake. “What do you mean? I think things have come along rather well,” she said with a blush.
“You’ve only seen each other a few times, dear sister,” Newton pointed out. “Hardly the stuff of legend.”
“What marriage is?” she asked. “I realize we need to court to see if we’ll suit, but so far …” She blushed again. “… I see no reason for alarm. Do you?”
“I didn’t say a word,” he said, noticing she was becoming more flustered by the second.
Cutty chuckled as he remembered the kiss Amon had given her the day before and the effect it had on her. What was she going to do when he really laid one on her?
Without warning, she grabbed the reins from him. “I’d like to drive!”
“Hey, calm down!” Cutty said, trying to take them back. “Yer gettin’ yerself all riled up!”
“I’m doing no such thing,” she said and gave the horses’ rumps a slap. They broke into a trot.
“I’m the one drivin’ here! Anyways, women shouldn’t oughta handle horses!”
“What?” she snapped. “I’m perfectly capable!” To prove her point she slapped them again. They broke into a canter.
Cutty grabbed his hat before it blew off his head. “Whoa!”
Newton sighed. “She’s quite stubborn, this one. And likes to prove to herself she can do something.”
“Quite right!” Nettie yelled and, shoving Cutty’s hands out of the way, slapped the horses again. They went faster.
“Consarnit!” Cutty cried over the sound of thundering hooves. “What are ya tryin’ to do, get us all killed?”
Nettie laughed and leaned forward. Newton watched a moment, then grabbed the reins from her and slowed the horses down to a trot. “Perhaps I should drive.”
“Thank the Lord!” Cutty exclaimed as he gripped the wagon seat. He turned his panicked face to Nettie. “I think ya need a few lessons yet, so’s ya don’t scare the passengers.”
“Can you teach me?” she asked, her face flushed. “That was exhilarating!”
Cutty grimaced. “Exhilarating – right …”
Nettie faced forward, her eyes filled with excitement. “I could never have done such a thing in England!”
“Lucky for you, the rules are different out here,” Newton said.
“Indeed. Isn’t it exciting?” She looked between the two men, a wide smile on her face.
“That was excitin’, all right,” Cutty grumbled.
“Well?” she asked him.
“Well what?”
“When can you teach me how to drive?”
Cutty squinted his eyes shut. When I’ve had a lesson or two myself, he thought.
Seventeen
Nettie stared at Cutty and noticed his forehead was beaded with sweat despite the breeze from their recent run down the road. Good grief, was this hardened mountain man frightened by that little romp? She looked at his hands. They still gripped the wagon seat, white-knuckled. Heavens, he was! She turned and looked at Newton, who appeared cool as a cucumber as usual, then glanced back at Cutty. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he said in a squeak, his teeth clenched.
“I should have given you fair warning before I did such a foolish thing.”
; “Ain’t foolish ‘less ya don’t know what yer doin’.”
“I didn’t know what I was doing. I’ve never driven a wagon before.”
Cutty slowly turned to her, still grimacing. “Well, I guess I’ll come clean – I ain’t driven one much either. But leastwise I done it more than you!”
“I see.” She covered her mouth as she began to giggle. “Perhaps we should have let Newton have the reins to begin with. He’s the expert.”
Cutty leaned forward on the seat to look at him. “Are ya, now? Ya had one of them fancy coaches back where ya come from?”
“Hardly,” Newton said. He gave Nettie a quick glance before continuing. “I spent more time in the driver’s seat of a coach than I ever did inside one as a passenger. Even so, driving was rare.”
Cutty stared at him. “I thought ya were the son of some fancy baron or somethin’. What’s a fella like you doin’ drivin’ a coach?”
Nettie gave Newton a tiny shake of her head. He ignored her. “You might as well know the truth.”
“Newton,” she pleaded. “Please don’t …”
Newton sighed. “No, dear sister – the time for masks is over. I’ve been giving this a great deal of thought. We have a chance to start a new life here, and –”
“Newton …” Nettie was near tears.
“– and we can’t do that if we’re hiding behind a façade. Besides, Cutty – and Amon – have been exceedingly good to us. I think they deserve to know.”
“To know what?” Cutty asked with suspicion. He was looking back and forth between Nettie, who was on the verge of hysterics, and the unnaturally calm Newton.
“We are relatives of the Sayers, that is true,” Newton told him. “But while we were wards of the Baron, we were not treated as nobility, and had none of the privileges. I was the Baron’s stable master – nothing more, nothing less. I cared for and trained his horses. And I had to fight to get that position.”
Cutty was taken aback. He gripped the seat again and gawked at them both. “Well … if’n yer brother worked in a barn, then what did you do?” he asked Nettie.
Her cheeks flamed red. “Newton, how could you?”
“I already told you,” he said. “It’s time to start over. And part of that is not pretending we were something more than … what the Baron allowed.”