The Lady's Arrangement (Help Wanted)

by Colleen L. Donnelly

  I veered Walter to the right. “Don’t worry, Ted, I’ll run you by the neighbor’s.”

  “You’re wasting time cutting this direction. You’ll just have to cut back again.”

  “I thought you weren’t worried about hurrying.”

  “Ted, it’s all right.” Regina spoke. I glanced over my shoulder to see her sitting on the crate now, near Jess, one hand on his shoulder, the two of them staring ahead. I looked ahead, also, and waited for Ted’s argument. He was quiet. The whole wagon was, except for the occasional groan from the wheels. Nothing from Ted. Nothing from the widow…I mean, my wife…either. Or from her son.

  As Walter drew us farther into empty terrain, I was surprised to see trees and abutments of rock here and there. It was like God dropped the wrong piece of puzzle from the sky, something that wasn’t supposed to be here in Kansas.

  “Well, I’ll be.” I slowed Walter even more, nearly at a crawl for a horse that could make it across Oklahoma Indian Territory in a day and a half. “This place is downright interesting. Look at those rocks and the way the land spikes up through here.” I pointed, stared after my own finger, amazed at this sudden near beauty.

  Walter stepped onto a natural path. He was a Ranger’s horse, skilled at finding trails of sorts where the grass was thin or even nonexistent. The land dipped, and Walter followed it, moseyed down an incline toward another abutment of rocks.

  “This place is where a man should build and live,” I said, admiring the scenery.

  “This is where Flynn died.”

  Something touched my side. Soft. Gentle. I glanced down. Regina’s fingers were there, on my shirt, near my belt. I followed them to her arm and up to her shoulder, then to her white face. There was no noise suitable for this sort of moment—I yanked back on Walter’s reins.

  “What?” My question echoed in the air around us, loss taking the fire out of Regina’s face. I turned to her son, his face the same as hers. His eyes as red as her hair.

  “Not a good place to be,” Ted murmured from the back. “I tried to stop you.”

  I looked at the terrain that had enchanted me seconds before. This was Flynn’s shortcut. This was where his life had come to an end. This was the only place Ted and Flynn’s family had failed to look while he lay here. I studied the path, the way it bent around rocks, shrubs, and the occasional tree.

  “How?” I turned to Regina, only thinking the question, but she understood. She pointed to the next formation of stones and I looked. Looked at the way the trail bent around them, at the stones on the ground.

  Regina came off the crate and wrapped her arms around Jess. She held him close, his shoulders shuddering in her clasp.

  I glanced back at Ted. He was staring the other direction, then down in his lap at his one good hand. “Seen enough?” he asked without looking back at me.

  I’d been mighty foolish when it came to women and boys in my life, but this was more than foolish. Taking them this way was blamed stupid. Regina stared at the rocks, at the ground, then looked up at me.

  “Flynn was good.”

  I heard the question in her statement, behind us the “Easterner” left over from what Fred had said. “Easterner” and “big money” drained what was left of the color from her face.

  “We need to get going.” Ted was looking up now. Not at us, but across the land. I still saw it, though. A side of death Flynn probably didn’t deserve.

  I pressed the reins to Walter’s left side, veering him to the right around the next stand of rocks. There was rubble on the ground, some of it strewn in the path where Flynn had evidently ridden. I studied it as we passed. White-gray edges. Fresh breaks. Clean and sharp.

  I made that noise Walter understood and he hied it up. I had some tools to check. Nicks and scrapes. Tools back in Regina’s barn.

  Chapter 48

  A name. Ben said Jess set store by them. Now I did the same. ~Regina

  “You fixing to leave?”

  The china cup slipped in my hands at Ben’s voice and the way it raised behind me. I grabbed at the tea towel I had wrapped around it and scrambled to hold on. “This? No.”

  Ben filled my kitchen doorway, his head slightly bent, watching me pin the teacup to my stomach.

  “Just packing some of my things.” I finished wrapping the cup in the towel and set it in a small crate. Would you take some Haviland China as payment? I’d made the offer to Mr. Greene to pay for a wire I’d sent to Clyde, prodding my cousin to hurry and send me the names of the men he’d invested with.

  “I was just getting used to holding onto those little cups. I don’t suppose you want some tin mugs to take their place?” Ben crossed the floor and peered into my crate.

  Tin mugs. I glanced around at the fine ware I’d brought from New York. Or what would be left of them when I finished using them for trade. “I never saw myself with campfire gear in my kitchen. How many do you have? And why didn’t you bring one in to use before now?”

  “One. Didn’t want everyone squabbling over it. Want me to get it?”

  I reached for another cup. “Tin I might get used to, but everyone sharing the same cup? Never. I want Jess to grow up with some decorum.”

  “I hope decorum isn’t catching, whatever it is.”

  I looked at him, from the black hair on his head, to the worn leather of his boots. “Apparently, it isn’t. Can you hand me the rest of the dishes on that upper shelf?”

  “I will on one condition.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “You let me handle the bartering.”

  “Bartering?” I looked away. Decided not to stomp.

  “My guess is you’ve got some bills to pay, and this is how you’re thinking on doing it until we find that other deed.”

  I looked down at the crate, at those tiny lumps of cups and saucers wrapped in my nicest tea towels. Not just the deed, but Flynn’s money.

  “Bartering’s a man’s job. It’ll go better for me.” He stepped alongside me. He laid out towels, brought down my china, lined each piece on top of them, and began to wrap.

  “This is none of your business.” I shoved Ben aside, knocking a saucer to the floor, splintering it into a thousand pieces, delicate pink painted roses turning to nothing but shards. “Damn!”

  “Well, Mrs. Miller, next thing you know, that mouth of yours will be drinking out of a tin cup. After someone else.”

  “I…I… Oh, just go on outdoors while I finish this up.” I butted against him harder.

  “No, ma’am. I aim to take care of your bartering. Besides these dishes, you got more?”

  “I’ll take care of it myself.” Take care of what hurts. Take care of finding what I had to find, because eventually we would part, and I’d be on my own.

  “A man’s gotta know what he’s bartering with. Otherwise he gets himself into situations that are tricky to get out of.”

  I stopped butting. I looked up at Ben, the sting of what he said like a fire across my face. “So that’s why you’re in such a hurry to get these deeds taken care of. I know you want out. I could have Ted sign and be done with all of this, if you want out that badly.”

  “Tricky to and wanting to aren’t the same thing. This situation with you, Mrs. Miller, is tricky. Just let me know what things you want me to barter with. I’ll take care of them when I go to Liberal next.”

  Tricky. I wasn’t about to thank those dark eyes for whatever generosity Ben thought he offered by wrapping my china and saying I was tricky to get out of. Words worse than what I’d just said flashed through my mind, along with the flames on my cheeks. I turned toward the door. “Just wrap whatever it takes to make things less tricky for you.” I was across the kitchen in fewer steps than it took his long legs, and slammed the door behind me.

  Chapter 49

  Sometimes you gotta learn more than how to run through smoke. Sometimes you gotta learn how to walk. ~Rex

  “You going to town?”

  I tightened the girth under W
alter, Jess’s lean shadow limping and tilted my way. I stared at that shadow, measuring how it had changed, as I shoved my hat back on my head. “I am.”

  The shadow hobbled closer. If it walked straight like it had the first day I’d seen it, I wouldn’t be here. Probably.

  I straightened and slapped Walter on the shoulder. “You ready, Walter?”

  “I could ride a horse now.”

  I glanced down at Regina’s boy. At the flesh-and-blood boy, not the ghost of him that covered this ground, missing his pa. His weight shifted toward that one good foot, the boy stretching as straight as he could. “Maybe if you rode sidesaddle like your ma should be.”

  “Sidesaddle? I’m not a girl!”

  I rested a hand on the saddle horn and studied the boy. In another minute he was going to topple over if he stood any stiffer. “Let’s see you walk.” I nodded across the barnyard.

  Jess scowled, but he pivoted, and took a step, doing his best to avoid leaning on his crutch. He staggered a mite, glanced back at me, but I nodded, urging him on. Run, Little Brother…you can make it.

  Jess traveled several feet, then turned. “See, I can walk fine.”

  “Let’s see you bend as far forward as you can until it hurts.”

  “What does that have to do with riding a horse? I said I’m ready to ride, not ready for a whipping.”

  “Whipping’s your ma’s business, riding’s mine. Let’s see you bend.”

  Jess gave me an even uglier scowl, but he did as I said and bent forward. He leaned on one crutch, bending low enough it looked like a bow. “See, I can do it.”

  “One more thing, and I don’t want you to do this without leaning on your crutch. And stop if it hurts at all.” I let go of the saddle horn and walked to the boy. “I want you to spread your feet like this.” I moved my feet apart, half as wide as my shoulders.

  “Easy. This is wasting time I could be riding.” Jess inched his feet apart. His jaw tightened. I saw the flinch behind his glare as his boots plowed dirt to the sides into little heaps. “Ow.”

  “That’s good enough. Straighten up and relax.”

  Red dotted Jess’s whitened face. “You picked things easy for you to do. You knew they’d be hard for me.”

  You think you’re better because you’re taller and older. You think you’re Pop’s favorite. I heard Luke in Jess’s fury. It’s for your own good. I never said that to Luke, and I wouldn’t say it to Jess.

  “I could use your help today,” I said.

  Jess gazed through a grimace that didn’t slacken at what I said.

  “Tell your ma you’re coming to Liberal with me. I’ll hitch up the wagon. Got some supplies I should get anyway.”

  I left Jess’s arguments behind. I went up to my loft and emptied the crate of dishes Regina had trusted me with. I toted it and my blanket down the ladder and filled the crate with leather straps, small broken tools, whatever I could find, then folded my blanket across the top. I carted it to the wagon and set it in the back against the seat.

  “You coming or not?” I turned to Jess, still standing in the barnyard, his arms crossed over his crutches. I took my time unsaddling Walter and hooking him to the wagon. By the time I was done, Jess and Regina were both at the wagon, both of them frowning at me. “The two of you going?” She shook her head, eyeing the crate in the back. The green of her eyes that went so well with her fiery red hair looked wispy as she stared through the slats of wood. “Best get going, then. I plan to pick up lumber when we’re in town.” I slapped my hands together and looked at Jess. “You ready?”

  Regina frowned. “More lumber?” She glanced at the crate, again, green dollar signs appearing in her eyes.

  “Walter’s been complaining about the conditions here. Promised him I’d spruce things up a bit. No charge to you.” I mustered a smile.

  “That’s not…”

  “You don’t know Walter. He’s always grumbling about something.” I looked down at Jess. “You ready, boy?”

  Jess swallowed the half smile I was glad to see. He hobbled over to the wagon’s side, and I hoisted him up. “You did that good,” I said and nodded as he maneuvered on one leg until he was settled. A flash of pride came and went, and I walked to my side of the wagon. Luke had never showed me half smiles or pride at his accomplishments. He never believed he had any, probably not even when he shot at me to save our ranch the night I burned it down.

  “You’ll be careful…” Regina laid her fingers on my arm as I passed.

  That touch, light as it was, reined me in harder than any whistle, sound, or yank ever could. I gazed down at her fingers, then up to those green eyes. “Yes, ma’am. I will.” I hurried to my seat.

  “Let me?” Jess asked as I choked the reins in my fist. My face was burning, my breathing a little too deep. The boy straightened himself against the sidearm of the bench seat.

  “Go ahead.”

  Jess made a sound. Walter’s ears perked up. He tried again, and Walter took a step. I handed the boy the reins.

  “Good job.” I said at the same time I heard the widow—my wife—say, “Don’t let him…”

  I waved behind me, kept my hot face forward. I settled back, and let Jess take us to Liberal.

  ****

  “That box anything?” Jess asked after he made a dozen noises until he brought Walter to a halt at the livery. He looped the reins around the post near the seat and glanced back at his mother’s crate.

  “Things I’ll take care of. Some of this, some of that. How about we get you over to Doc’s first and see what he thinks about your leg?”

  The glow disappeared. Just like I’d thrown a bucket of water on an ember. A good ember, one I never wanted to put out. “So you can ride Walter yourself sometime.” The ember flickered.

  I walked to Jess’s side of the wagon and helped him down. Side by side, once Walter’s needs were taken care of, we amiabled to Doc’s office, the way Regina would like. I would like her here amiabling along with us, but if she were, I’d never get any rangering done.

  “I only half believe what Doc says,” Jess muttered as we entered the office door.

  “Then leave the other half to me.”

  I paid Doc for all his troubles and gave him extra for the arguments Jess kicked up at not being ready to ride yet.

  “It’s a miracle you’re up and walking at all,” Doc said as we readied to leave. “If it wasn’t for that contraption Ben built, you wouldn’t be doing anything.” Doc gave Jess a smile. His eyes crinkled right, but not enough. There was still pain behind that smile. Saying another man’s name in regard to the family he’d had his heart set on, hurt. I understood that. Becky had taught me that every time I saw her with her new husband.

  I shook Doc’s hand. “Jess knows more about that ‘contraption’ than anyone. You got other patients could use one?”

  Jess stopped in the doorway, his eyes widening beneath brows that had been stuck in a stormy vee.

  Doc looked down at Jess. “You think you could come up with a few of those? With Ben’s help?”

  The storm waned as the boy’s head dipped forward into a nod.

  “Good. Make me a set that fits a man about my size and one that fits you. That will make a good start.”

  Jess nearly bounced as we told Doc goodbye and headed away from his office. His jabbering filled the air, reminding me of his mother, as plans and ideas for even more of these contraptions kept him busy until we stepped into the postal office.

  “Well, hello to both of you.” Mr. Greene’s cheery welcome didn’t slow Jess’s ideas. They continued to spill out as I sent Jim and Pop letters and took what Mr. Greene had for me. And Regina. I glanced at one of the envelopes addressed to her. To Mrs. Flynn Howard, from New York. From a man’s name I didn’t recognize. “Regina owe you anything?” I whispered beneath Jess’s rambling, his plans for far more sets than Doc had ordered. I pinched her envelope between two fingers. A letter. I considered holding it up to the light while Mr. Green whis
pered back a minute amount. I paid him. Double. She’d told me to give him a cup, and I’d tell her he refused. I stuffed the envelopes and wires into my pocket and led babbling Jess back outside.

  “Think if I gave Mr. Wayne a list of what we need you could make sure he did it right while I go down to the bank?”

  “Yes, sir.” Jess hied it up even more. “I sure can.”

  I followed Jess into the mercantile store and left the wide-eyed clerk with a description of what the boy would need, plus a small list of supplies for the ranch. Jess never even saw me walk out. He was leaning against the counter, not even looking at the candy as he repeated the supplies for crutches and braces, pointing to the boards and straps along his leg.

  I dug my wire out of my pocket as I walked to the bank, rangering on my mind as I paused and read what it said.

  Your brother’s still gunning for Morrissey. And vice versa. Neither one’s been seen. Jim

  I shoved the wire into my pocket, tugged my letter out, and glanced at who it was from. Jim. I folded it in quarters and stuffed it back in with Regina’s envelopes. I didn’t need a bunch of instructions on top of bad news. My heart hammered the way my fist wanted to as I gazed off toward the south. “Little Brother, what are you thinking…” Luke was no match for Morrissey. If Luke was still alive.

  I hustled to the bank and pushed through the door like it was hinged on a saloon. It withered behind me as it closed and I searched for Mr. Gulliver. His desk was vacant, the empty sheen reflecting nothing but lights and ceiling. I scoured the lobby as I stepped further in. I spotted him then, his profile, most of him hidden behind a low wall far at the back. I lengthened my stride and headed his way. He was talking to another man, and I kept a bead on them as I kept that direction. The other was a worn-out cowboy, the two of them keeping their voices low, each coming clearer as I approached. Clear enough I stopped. I recognized Mr. Gulliver’s companion. I turned, hard but slow, keeping my head down, everything in the bank turning to ice.

  Morrissey.