by Kit Morgan
He went to the door and knocked, and as luck would have it, Mrs. Davis answered. “Oh, it’s you. What business do you have coming here?”
Tom removed his hat and held it before him. “I’ve come to … call on Miss Charlotte.” Was “call” the word he really wanted to use in front of this woman?
“Call on my daughter? After you broke her heart? Why the nerve!”
Tom took a step back. “Broke her heart?”
“You heard me! She cried and everything!”
“She … she did? But ma’am, there was never …”
“Oh, but I’ll fetch her to you all the same, just so you can apologize!” Before he could say a word, he was yanked inside. “Wait right here,” she ordered and hurried into a parlor off the front hall.
He glanced about the decorative foyer as he twisted his hat in his hands. The only other place he’d seen like this was the Cooke’s house out at the Triple C ranch. It was as big, if not bigger, and just as fancy. The sight made him wonder if apple farming was as lucrative as cattle ranching. He knew Mr. Davis had a few orchards, but didn’t think them enough to afford all this. Whatever investments he had back east, must be good ones.
“Deputy Turner?”
He turned. Charlotte stood in the doorway of the parlor, and motioned him to follow her. Once inside, she then motioned him to sit as she took a chair. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, her face expressionless. “Miss Charlotte, aren’t ya feeling well? Ya don’t look so good.”
“I’ve had a few rough days.” She picked at a loose thread on her dress. “I’m sorry you’ve had to carry out the duties of chaperone alone.”
“That’s just it, Matthew didn’t ask for me. Did he send for you?”
She raised her face to his. “No, that’s odd.”
He noticed how pale she was, and leaned toward her, resting his hands on his knees. Dark circles were under her eyes, accentuated by the blue calico she wore. Her hair was up, but loose strands hung about her face as if she’d been working, and didn’t bother to re-pin them, and perhaps such was the case. But if Tom knew anything about women, it was the fact they liked to look their best around a man. Today, however, Charlotte didn’t care. “Your ma mentioned,” he hesitated. How was he going to word this? “Mentioned that I might have done something to upset you.”
She moaned, placed her face in her hands, and mumbled something that sounded like I’m going to kill my mother … before giving him a glazed look. “What are your parents like, Tom?”
“Are we on a first name basis now?” he drawled.
She smiled. “Yes, I see no reason why not. Let folks think what they want, I don’t much care anymore.”
“You want to know what my folks are like?”
She rubbed her temples. “I can tell you without reservation, they are not like mine.”
He studied her. In truth she looked awful, which sparked his concern. “Your ma told me I plumb broke your heart. I take it that’s not the case.”
She stopped her self-ministrations. “Of that you are correct. In part, at any rate.”
“What do ya mean, Miss Charlotte? Are ya sure you’re all right?”
She drew in a weary breath. “What I mean is, if there was any heart-breaking, then it came by my hand alone.”
He let go a light chuckle. “I might not be as smart as some fellas, but I’m not dumb either. What are ya so mad at yourself for?”
Her eyes met his own. “Too many things to count.” She sat back in her chair. “So many in fact, I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“Well, are they things that need fixin’? Or things you can walk away from?”
“Walk away?”
“Yeah, like startin’ over … um, let bygones be bygones … the barn done blown over, so I’ll build me a new one.”
Charlotte stared at him. “You mean, forget about it?”
He shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah.”
“But …”
“Is there anybody you need to forgive?”
“What?”
“Is there anybody you need to forgive,” he asked again, as one would a child.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Well, perhaps a few.”
“That’s good. A few people are easier to deal with than a lot.”
“Why?”
“Because after ya forgive them, you can move on.”
“I see.” She thought a moment. “A fresh start you say? I’ve been doing my best …”
“Are there folks that need to forgive you?”
Her face fell. “What if I say, yes?”
“That’s easy, ya just go out and ask for it.”
She looked at him as if he’d just told her to go throw herself off a cliff. “That’s easier said than done.”
“Miss Charlotte, it’s probably none of my business, but it’s obvious you’re beatin’ yourself up over things, and I’d hate to see ya go through life doing yourself wrong. A fella told me once that if I wanted to move on, I’d have to let go of the load I was draggin’ behind me. He was right. It wasn’t until I let go, that I went on to make somethin’ of myself.”
“You mean, becoming a deputy?”
“No ma’am, a better man.”
She sat silent a moment or two before she spoke again. “What did you do?”
“My pa got hurt one day, and Doc Drake had gone to Oregon City to do some visitin’, which left Doc Waller, a fine man, but gettin’ on in years. Anyway, he took a look at my pa and told my ma and me, he’d be lucky if he didn’t come out of it a cripple. I blamed myself for what happened. I wasn’t paying attention, and my pa got trampled on by some draft horses, hurt his back real bad too. I didn’t find out until later the harness was weak, and that’s what caused the trouble …” He stopped, his eyes closed at the memory. “For years I blamed myself when I didn’t have to. I was afraid of what my pa thought of me, if he trusted me … I could go on but I’m afraid I’d bore ya to tears.”
She rubbed both her arms as if chilled. “I’m sorry to hear that, what happened to your father?”
“Oh, he’s right as rain now. Walks and everything, but it took an awful long time for him to heal.” He straightened. “What I’m sayin’ is, if you got folks that need to forgive ya, it helps a whole lot when you’re movin’ on with your life. Likewise, if you need to do some forgivin’ yourself.”
“I’ve thought about it … but … there are so many I would have to ask.”
“Well, ya gotta start somewhere. Maybe start with the most recent and go backwards from there. You’ll know when you’re done. Don’t mean ya gotta go right up and ask for it. Maybe do somethin’ nice for them.”
She stared at him. “How did we wind up talking about this?”
He shrugged again. “Don’t rightly know. Guess the good Lord saw fit to interrupt the reason I came over.” He stood. “You feelin’ better now, Miss Charlotte?”
She looked up at him, her mouth half open. “I … I … well I’ll be. I do.” She stood. “How did you …?”
“Make ya feel better? Don’t know, I just start talkin’ to folks, and it happens.”
“Everything you said is true, I do need to forgive some people, and ask it of … oh dear.”
“Now it can’t be as many folks as all that.”
She looked at him, brow raised, and laughed. “Tom Turner, you haven’t been around here long enough to know, but trust me … I’ve got some work to do.”
He smiled. “No time like the present then to get started. Who’s first on your list?”
“To forgive, or be forgiven by?” she asked.
“Pick one.”
She took a deep breath. “I think I’ll start with …” She swallowed hard. “The Riley family.”
“There now, at least ya know you’re headin’ in the right direction. After them, who ya gonna tackle?”
She closed her eyes. “Matthew Quinn.”
* * *
“Rose, hand me that hammer, will you?
”
Rose spied the hammer, and gave it to Matthew. She’d not seen him in two days, Clayton was busy with the farm, and hadn’t time to bring her to town. Today he came in to take care of some business, so dropped her off at the mercantile for a few hours while he got his errands done. When she arrived, Matthew was fixing a shelf under the front counter.
He hammered in a nail, and reached for another. “You’re quiet today,” he told her from under the counter.
She’d walked around to the other side and mulled over what to say to him. In truth she hadn’t thought much about him in the last two days. Summer and Elle had shown her more of the farm and its orchards. She was enamored with the land, and though it was winter, thought it beautiful beyond compare. How she wished for life on a farm, to work outdoors, to till the land, grow things, turn what the land produced into a living.
“I spoke with the preacher yesterday,” Matthew called from below.
A chill raced up her spine at his words.
“I told him we’d be ready to marry as soon as you had a dress.” He pulled himself up and leaned against the counter. “He suggested the day after the Valentine’s dance.”
Another chill, but it wasn’t out of anticipation. “Oh?”
He wiped his hands on a handkerchief he took from his pants pocket. “The dance is on a Saturday night, the wedding on Sunday. I think it’s perfect, don’t you? My mother agrees.”
“Sounds … wonderful.”
He came around the counter to stand beside her. “Well, here we are, just the two of us.”
“And your parents,” she reminded him. She hadn’t seen them yet, but knew they were down the hall in the kitchen.
“Of course, it wouldn’t be proper for me to be completely alone with you.”
Which reminded her. “Is Charlotte or … Tom coming today?”
“There’s no reason for either of them to be here, my folks are enough. In fact, I’m not so sure we need them any more.”
Her muscles tightened as her heart skipped a beat. “Why not?”
“I just told you.”
She turned away, surprised the news saddened her, but why should it? Of course, she knew why …
“I would think after what happened the last time we were all together, you’d be relieved to be free of them.”
She watched his face for any sign of remorse. In actuality, it was Matthew that had caused most of the ruckus, not to mention his mother. Maybe he wasn’t ready to face Charlotte or Tom. Perhaps he never would.
She let her eyes wander the shelves behind him. “Mr. Riley will be back to fetch me in a few hours. What shall we do until then?”
“I thought I’d read to you.”
Her eyes darted between him and the scant amount of books on a shelf behind him. “Read to me?”
“Yes, anatomical terms. If you’re going to be the wife of a prominent doctor, you should learn them.”
She swallowed, “Of course.” Her eyes fell to an ax and several hatchets for sale. “Tell me about the time you sawed off a man’s leg.”
His eyes widened. “Good Lord! Why would you … oh, I did bring that up the other day, didn’t I?”
She smiled. “Was there blood everywhere?”
“Good Heavens, you want those kind of details?”
She nodded.
He eyed her. On the one hand, it was a good thing she was asking, on the other hand, he was surprised by her interest. “Not really, not as much as one might think.”
“What does a doctor in a town this size do?”
He thought about it. “A good question, why don’t we go over to Doc Brown’s and pay him a visit? He should be fine now. He had a little accident a few weeks ago, but I’m sure we wouldn’t be a bother.”
“That sounds like a good idea, but what about your ankle?”
“I’ll use a cane. Let me get my coat and hat. Wait here.” He left without another word. Rose studied the many items in the mercantile, and tried to imagine what it would be like to work there day in and day out for years on end. Perhaps a visit with the local doctor and his wife would set her mind at ease. She’d felt such freedom on the Riley farm, enough to make the mercantile feel too confining. She wasn’t sure she could stand to stare at the same four walls the rest of her life.
He returned, helped her on with her coat, and together, they left. The doctor’s house was on the edge of town, and it was slow going to get there. Matthew didn’t say if his ankle pained him, but she could see him grimace from time to time as they went along. He pointed out different businesses and told her little things about the owners, how long they’d lived in Nowhere, and what happened to others to make them move away. They hadn’t gotten far when Billy, the town’s other deputy stopped them.
“Howdy Matt! I heard you were back!” He grabbed Matthew’s hand and shook it. “I was just headin’ over to the mercantile to pick up a few things for Abbey.”
“It’s good to see you, Billy. May I introduce Miss Smith?”
He turned to her and smiled. “Howdy, welcome to Nowhere. Sheriff Riley says you come from the same place his wife did.”
“Yes, we all came from New Orleans.”
“I bet this weather is mighty cold compared to what you’re used to.”
“Actually, it doesn’t bother me as much as it did Elle when she first came. I didn’t always live in New Orleans. I grew up in the state of New York. My family moved there from Philadelphia.”
Matthew’s eyes brightened. “Ah, there we are, something new! You see? There is so much we haven’t learned about one another. I had no idea.”
She smiled shyly. “My folks and I traveled south after the war and settled in New Orleans when I was thirteen, but …”
Both men leaned in her direction.
She sighed. “They died shortly afterwards in a fire.”
Billy took off his hat. “Sorry to hear that ma’am.”
She nodded her thanks, and looked to Matthew. He stood staring at her, his face unreadable. What could he be thinking? Was he bothered by the fact she’d been in an orphanage for the last five years, or that her parents were killed in a fire? They hadn’t any time to learn about each other, and it felt disconcerting. Especially since they were to be married soon. At least she had the chance to get to know him a bit before hand. Unlike most mail order brides, who married their future husbands the same day they got off a train or stagecoach. She was glad that wasn’t the case here, and hoped she would grow fond of him the more she got to know him. She wished she felt as comfortable around Matthew as she did Tom Turner. From the moment she met the deputy, she felt as if she’d known him all her life; he was that easy to be around. Matthew Quinn, however, was … complex.
“Well, I’d best go pick up these things for Abbey. Oh, by the way, what’s this I hear about Tom marrying Charlotte?”
“Wha … wha… what?” Matthew sputtered and almost fell over.
“Oh, be careful!” Rose said as she caught and helped him right himself.
“Marry, Tom Turner?” He spat, ignoring her altogether. “I thought that was all settled.” He looked Billy up and down, his lip curled at an odd angle. “Wait a minute, what are you asking me for? You live with them!”
“I know, but Abbey and me ain’t seen Charlotte in a couple of days. She’s been hold up in her room crying ever since she was with the two of you.”
Matthew’s mouth dropped open in shock first, before his eyes narrowed to slits. “Tom Turner’s behind this,” he sneered.
“What?” Rose croaked. “He didn’t do anything!”
“You don’t know that, who knows what he’s said or done to her since she left to go home that day.”
“Oh, no … not again,” Rose mumbled. If she’d learned nothing else about Matthew Quinn, it was how fast he got upset when it came to Charlotte Davis.
“He’s been to work like always, nothing different about Tom.” Billy explained.
“Well, I’d feel better knowing what’s happened
all the same. I’ll check into the matter myself.” He turned, an obvious dismissal. “Come along, Rose,” he said as he took her by the arm and pushed her ahead of him.
Rose stared straight at the ground as she walked and wondered if he’d come to her defense so quickly. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was in love with … She stopped.
“What are you doing?” he asked as he bumped into her.
She spun around. “Do … do you care for Charlotte?”
His entire body shook at the question. “I beg your pardon?”
“Do you care for Charlotte?” she asked again, bolder this time.
“Of course I care for her, I’ve known her all my life.”
“No,” she said, her eyes closed to bolster her courage. “Do you care for Charlotte?”
He stared at her, his jaw so tense she could hear his teeth grind. “As I said before, I’ve known her all my life.”
Touché’ she thought. He does care for Charlotte. Perhaps even more than he cares for me. Yet, she had to remind herself they’d only just met, and he was right, he’d known Charlotte all his life, of course he would care for the girl, whereas he’d only known her for what? Three days?
“Why do you ask such a question?” Matthew spoke softly, gently. “It’s you I plan to marry, not Charlotte.”
Rose caught the tiny hint of regret in his voice. She hoped she was wrong, but it was there. It bolstered her courage even more. “Are you sure you want to marry me?”
“Of course, we … we just need to get to know one another a little better, that’s all. I think it will make it easier on the both of us, don’t you?”
She gazed at a horse and wagon across the street. A man was helping a woman climb out, several children were in the wagon bed, laughing. They were in front of a small restaurant, and as soon as the man helped his children down, they filed into the establishment. She smiled at the scene. Would she have such a family with this man? Would he be a devoted husband to her? Or would thoughts of Charlotte haunt their every step? She looked back to him. “Yes, you’re right. It will make it easier.”