Courting Emma (Little Hickman Creek Series #3)

by Sharlene MacLaren

  As if she'd read his mind and been scalded by the words, she turned in haste and set about replacing books to their proper places, according to color-size-title? He didn't know.

  What he did know, however, as the walls of his chest felt ready to collapse, the beat of his heart drumming wildly out of control, was that somewhere between seventh grade and this very moment in time, he'd fallen completely, irrefutably, irrevocably in love with Emma Browning.

  - CL/ e" Y"ry,~f , Z e

  his is it, folks; your final opportunity to see the amazing, the great, the wonderful Billy Wonder in action. I have enjoyed my time in Little Hickman, but I regret to say I am moving on.

  Sighs of disappointment rustled through the crowd. "Do ya hafta go?" piped up Lill Broughton from her front-row position just two feet from Billy's makeshift stage at the back of his wagon. Along with Eloise Brackett, Sarah Jenkins, and Erlene Barrington, she had squeezed her way past the crowd to get a better view of Billy's closing act. Emma stood at the back of the throng, mildly interested, Liza Broughton at her side. The two had niet on the sidewalk outside the boardinghouse and had walked together to see Billy's performance, Lill running on ahead.

  About fifty yards behind the wagon, a couple of dozen volunteer workers had convened at the site of the new church, which, by the look of things, was conning along at a fast rate. The basic structure itself was up, shingled roof nailed in place, clapboard siding firmly fixed but still unpainted, windows fitted, and the big double-door entryway with ten-footwide cement steps inviting even the shyest stranger through its portals. Emma found herself watching the church construction with one eye and Billy's show with the other, torn between the two, especially once she spotted Jon Atkins amidst the group of church workers and recalled their conversation of less than an hour ago. She rebuked herself for her distraction and forced her focus back to Billy. After all, he was leaving Little Hickman; it was only right she give hint her full attention.

  Billy's firm mouth gave way to a smile as he eyed the young girls pressed in at the front of the crowd. With flare, he removed the black top hat he always wore, swept it wide, and bowed low. "Afraid so, my clear girl. The Southern states are calling nie." He then straightened, looked out over the gathering citizens, and pulled back his shoulders. "But do not fear, my friends. I shall return-and when I do, I will bring with me the finest, most up-to-date products and remedies available." His voice had taken on a singsong quality, building with every syllable. "Why, I'ni told that by the year 1900 we will have a cure for most everything that ails the human body." Enthusiastic smiles covered the faces of adults and children while murmurs of delight fluttered from one to the other.

  "He's a curious sort of nian, don't you think?" Liza Broughton whispered out of the side of her mouth. "He breezed into Little Hickman in that colorful rig of his, stirred up all kinds of skepticism about his medicinal herbs, potions, and magic, and now he's leaving behind a remarkable number of supporters. Frank Callahan claims his energy's improved since starting Mr. Wonder's Vegetable Compound, Gladys Hayward swears his Wondrous Nature's Balm has cured her arthritis, and Rhoda Marshall says her equilibrium's on the mend since starting his magnetic treatment. And there are multitudes more that will vouch for his tonics and cures. Of course, Doc's all tied in knots, thinks he's a quack, and says if Rhoda, for one, would lay off the nightcaps, her balance would return of its own accord." Liza giggled quietly and the lighthearted sound floated over the air like dust from a feather pillow. She rubbed her growing, rounded belly and added, "I'm not sure what to think of the nian, a little strange, perhaps-and definitely a vagabond. Seems to me he'd grow tired of such a lifestyle."

  Emilia hesitated to comment, for she'd learned a side to Billy that few knew. Vagabond, yes, but with good reason. Who wouldn't want to escape a quiet life as a means of forgetting his past? Whether he'd found any kind of peace in doing so she couldn't say, but then who in this world could know true peace-especially after witnessing tragedy and loss? Her thoughts landed on Jon Atkins. Well, perhaps there were some exceptions. If anyone seemed at peace, it was him.

  Then there were Ben and Liza, Rocky and Sarah, Carl and Frieda Hardy, the Crunkles, and the Jarvises, to name a few. All right, maybe peace was possible on certain levels-and the ability to forgive-as long as the infraction wasn't abuse or murder. She had a mental list that stretched a mile wide of reasons why it seemed impossible ever to forgive Ezra Browning.

  "And now, before I unveil to you my most sought-after remedy," Billy was saying, "the one I've been withholding from you these past few weeks, I shall need a volunteer." Hands shot up all around, mostly from the teenage variety, with the exception of Lill Broughton, whose yellow-sleeved arm waved in the air, practically under Billy's nose.

  Billy's eyes fell to her, as if they had a choice in the matter. "All right, young lady, get yourself on up here."

  Without hesitation, or assistance, she mounted the steps leading up to the stage. Her braids flapped in the breeze, one of their red and yellow ribbons coming loose at the base to dangle down her front. "What do I have to do?" was her onthe-spot question. "Can I help you do a magic trick? Can you make soniethin' disappear before my eyes?"

  "Oh, that Lill," Liza muttered.

  Billy flung his head back and laughed. The crowd twittered with nervous excitement. Apparently he'd been delighting the crowds on a daily basis with his sleight of hand tricks, using his "magic wand" to make a playing card disappear from some unsuspecting hand then reappear in some unexpected place-like under his top hat, or in someone's pocket, or even inside Freddie Hogsworth's shoe, of all places! From what Enema had heard, that one gained the man an all new level of respect, especially when Freddie swore on a stack of Bibles that he hadn't so much as spoken a word to Billy Wonder before the trick transpired. Tongues wagged as folks speculated how he'd pulled it off.

  From a hook on the wall, Billy removed a two-foot-long piece of rope. Giving it a couple of solid yanks on both ends to show off its sturdiness, he handed one end to Lill while he held to the other. "Pull as hard as you can, young lady. I want to make sure folks don't see this as flimsy." With gusto, Lill tugged at the rope, gritting her teeth in the process. "Harder," he pressed. Determined, she dug in deeper and pulled with all her might.

  Billy laughed. "Well done, niy dear." He took the rope from her possession and looped it over his shoulder, while from his pocket, he pulled a silky red swatch of cloth. "See this handkerchief?"

  Lilt nodded her head.

  "Would you mind stuffing it inside this box here?"

  Lilt took the fabric and crammed it into a silver box sitting atop a narrow, wooden table at the front of the stage, then looked at him for further instruction.

  "Very good." He handed her the box's matching lid. "Set this carefully in place if you don't mind."

  Lilt did as told.

  "Now, take the rope and tie it carefully around the box."

  Billy retrieved the rope from his shoulder and handed it to her. She took it, but immediately the thing fell apart, one half of it falling to the floor. The crowd gasped and Billy feigned alarm.

  "Well, would you look at that?" He bent to retrieve it, and when he put the two halves together, it seemed magically to reconnect before the eyes of every onlooker. Even Emma stood mesmerized.

  "How'd you do that?" Lilt's boulder-sized eyes fixed themselves on the now whole rope.

  "It must have been your enchanting presence, my dear." The crowd cheered and clapped, and Lill blushed with excitement. Beside Emilia, Liza clapped in delight.

  Billy hushed everyone with a mere hand. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, tie the rope around this box."

  Just as she was about to do it, someone from the crowd hollered, "First show us the scarf once more."

  Billy looked slightly abashed. "Why, of course." Without hesitation, he lifted the lid and pulled out the scarf-then quickly jammed it back inside. That seemed to satisfy the heckler and Lill went back to her task, tying the rope around
the silver box, fastening it with a double knot, and then stepping back when finished.

  "Now I should like one more volunteer," Billy announced, looking out over the large group. Ignoring raised hands, lie called on Emma.

  Her hand went to her throat. She did not relish standing in front of folks, least of all on a stage where all eyes would be upon her. She felt her throat go instantly dry and shook her head, but the cluster of townsfolk wouldn't have it.

  "Go up there, Emma. It'll be fun," Liza insisted. The people applauded and cajoled until, finally, she found herself pushed to the front and helped up the steps by Billy himself. Flustered, she looked out over the crowd and saw Jon Atkins and Ben Broughton standing on either side of Liza, Jon smiling with amusement, his hat resting low on his head so that she missed seeing that usual twinkle in his eyes. When had they wandered over? Already flushed from the excitement, she felt her cheeks go even redder. Lili jumped up and down, unable to conceal her enthusiasm.

  Billy draped an arni around Emma's shoulder and turned her toward the audience. "This here is one fine cook," he announced, dragging her close to his side. "While in Little Hickman, I've had the privilege of taking my meals at her boardinghouse, and I must say I've never tasted finer food. And such a pretty thing, she is." He gave her shoulder a tighter than necessary squeeze. When she glanced at Jon, she found his smile missing.

  Emma pursed her lips, feeling as if she were on display at the county fair. "Billy, get on with your trick before I introduce these delightful citizens to William Westerwunter," she hissed under her breath.

  Good-natured laughter rumbled up from his chest. "Oh, you've cornered me, my fair lady," he murmured.

  "You gonna show us some magic or what?" the heckler called.

  Billy waved off the remark and proceeded, amazing his spectators with a disappearing scarf that, to the dismay of everyone, including Emma, somehow wound up in her apron pocket. And in the silver box? A bottle of Doctor Frunklemey- er's Essence of Life!

  After wowing his audience with a string of tricks, Billy closed his act by explaining the benefits of the doctor's "Essence," claiming it aided in preventing the common cold, cleared out the breathing passages, and even improved the condition of one's ailing lungs. "One dollar a bottle, folks," he sang. "I recommend a spoonful a day to prevent the germ from entering your body. One bottle will only last six months, though, so I'd suggest two bottles to last the entire year. And is it two dollars? Why, no. I'll sell you two bottles for just a dollar fifty. Now there's something you can't pass up."

  Apparently, they agreed, for the majority of folks dug into their pockets and formed a line. In fact, Emma thought she'd never seen a longer one, unless she counted that line of youngsters who'd willingly waited more than an hour on Independence Day to ride Sam Livingston's prize mules.

  "You say that was your last show, Billy?" Jon asked over supper that night. He lifted a towel off the bread basket and helped himself to another roll.

  Billy, seated catty-corner from Jon at the table, grinned and nodded. "Indeed it was, Preacher. I'll miss the good town of Little Hickman." As usual, Enmia's boarders dug into their evening meal with gusto, injecting only sparse bits of conversation, barely taking the time to look up when someone spoke. And who could blame them? Tonight's meal was another winner-thick turkey noodle soup, fresh baked dinner rolls, a tangy cabbage slaw, and big, juicy slices of tomatoes and cucumbers straight from the garden. And if Jon's guess were right, by the aromas flowing from the kitchen, apple rhubarb pie for dessert.

  "C-c-caii you sh-show its some magic b-before you go?"

  "Luke, you don't ask a nian to work when lie's off duty- inuch less without pay," his father scolded.

  The unschooled boy's beady eyes brightened, unfazed by his father's words of reprimand. "He did some tricks in the p-parlor room. 'Member when he b-b-blowed on his hand and a nickel come up between his f-fingers? And then there was that trick with the b-ball. He'd s-start out with one in his h-hand and end up with three. He dint ask for no m-money then."

  "Well, just the sane...."

  "Nonsense!" Billy interrupted. "I'll be happy to show the boy some tricks after lie helps me pack up my wagon, how would that be?"

  Luke brightened and pulled back his rounded shoulders. "Miss Emma says I'm a g-good h-helper."

  Billy and Enna exchanged a friendly look. "That true, Miss Enna?"

  "There's not much Luke won't do for a body when asked."

  "Where you goin' from here?" Wes Clayton asked while chawing on a roll, a few stray crumbs nesting in his gray beard.

  Jon's ears perked up, curious himself about the man's plans. Truth was, lie didn't know what to think of Wonder. He was a crafty sort, and lie did have a knack for entertainment, drawing crowds by the droves. There couldn't have been more than a handful of citizens who hadn't seen his showand bought up his miracle cures by the carton-load after each performance.

  And that was what troubled him.

  In a day when money was already tight, had Billy Wonder taken advantage of the good people of Little Hickman by encouraging them to spend their earnings on worthless potions? According to Doc Randolph, these formulas consisted mostly of vegetable extracts and colored sugar water. Traveling medicine men such as Billy dotted the countryside, riding into unsuspecting towns to show off their masterful illusions. Then, while holding their audiences captive, they sold off their wares faster than the townsfolk could blink.

  Newspapers and magazines were crammed with ads for medicines and miracle-cure devices. Most of these medicines were harmless, but many contained generous quantities of alcohol or opium, ensuring a quick feeling of well-being for first-time customers, followed by the possibility of habitual use-something for which these traveling salesmen dearly hoped. To them, the frequency with which patrons returned for more products determined the number of dollar signs flitting before their eyes.

  He hoped that wasn't the case with Billy, but one couldn't be too sure about who to trust nowadays.

  "I'm headin' south. Need to get settled in a warner climate before winter sets in."

  "Can't blame you for that," said Harland. "Wouldn't want to be stuck in a blizzard with that wagon o' yours."

  "You'd be surprised where that wagon's been. It's seen many a mountain range and crossed its share of rivers. Haven't passed through any blizzards yet, though, and don't expect to."

  "Ain't you got a h-house somewheres?" Luke asked, showing his cabbage slaw when he spoke.

  "He doesn't live anywhere to speak of," Elliott answered. "He moves from one town to another, never staying anywhere long enough to put down roots. Isn't that right, Mr. Wonder?"

  Billy seemed unruffled by the remark. "It's true I never was one for putting down stakes, Mr. Newman." He speared several sliced carrot wedges with his fork. "That's not to say I'ni opposed to the idea, though, given the right set of circumstances-and a pretty woman." He turned his smiling face on Emnia, after which she dipped her head, a flush appearing in her cheeks. Was Billy sweet on Emma? The very notion set Jon's teeth on edge. He forced a denture smile behind the rim of his water glass and tried to ignore the sudden twinge in his neck.

  "Course, I'd have to find me a whole new line o' work. Illusions and trickery's 'bout all I know."

  "You seen to be quite the salesman," Charley offered. And a swindler, to boot, Jon thought.

  "I do enjoy the sales end of my business. It's brought me a hefty profit."

  Jon thought he'd do well to keep his mouth shut with regard to his profits. Some might consider him a thief when they discovered his ointments, oils, and medicinal brews didn't accomplish their intended purpose.

  "Perhaps I could find me a wife with wanderlust in her veins. Now, right there'd be the perfect situation." Humor sparked his countenance as he sought out Emma's eyes yet again. She scowled, plopped down her napkin, and pushed back her chair.

  "I'ni afraid you'd have to look far and wide for a woman like that," Jon said, disgruntled. "Most women wa
nt stability and comfort, someplace warm and inviting. And I'd vouch most want a place in which to raise a family."

  Billy eyed Jon with particular interest, brow arched. "Is that so?" he quipped. His expression flickered with merriment. "I wouldn't think a man of the cloth would know about such things."

  Jon had the distinct feeling he'd fallen smack into the middle of one of Billy's traps, and for the first time in a long while, he sorely lacked for a decent comeback. What had possessed him to make such a comment, as if he knew whatwonien, Emma Browning in particular, really sought after?

  Emma gathered up the serving dishes, starting with the ones in the middle of the table.

  "You needin' some help there, Miss Emma?" Billy asked.

  For a man of the cloth, Jon certainly felt hot under the collar.

  "I can handle things just fine, Mr. Wonder."

  "Huniph. I wasn't even done with them rolls," Harland complained. Emma thrust the basket under his nose.

  For reasons unbeknownst to Jon, Billy gave a full-hearted chortle-as if lie were privy to some secret. He glanced around, put his palms square on the table, and nodded his head before pushing himself up. "Well then, folks, if you don't mind, I believe I'll call it an evening. You want to come help me load up my rig, Luke?"

  "You bet!" the boy exclaimed. "C-can you show me how to make somethin' disappear?"

  "Why, sure thing. How 'bout we start with you and ine?"

  "Huh? How you g-gonna make its disappear? You can't d-do that."

  Billy winked at Emnna and guided Luke into the parlor, giving everyone his back. "Course I can."

  "Yeah, but h-how?"

  "Like this. Now they see us..." he opened the door and stepped outside. "Now they don't."

  With the closed door, the pair vanished.

  ninia still couldn't believe Jon had talked her into bringing her father to the boardinghouse, but even as she belabored the point, she knew there was no help for it. Why, she'd be worse than heartless to ignore Ezra's helpless physical state, no matter that he'd treated her poorly most of her born days. "It's just a matter of time, Emma," Doc had told her yesterday. "About all we can do is keep him comfortable." And the only way to ensure that was to bring him here, she admitted-even though he had yet to agree to the plan. Merciful heavens! She could practically hear him wailing in protest now as she imagined Jon breaking the news to him, a job he'd insisted on doing, even though she'd argued it wasn't his responsibility.