by Ron Schwab
I sat on a bench in front of the depot and studied the passers-by. Casey should arrive in a half hour. Mandy was helping Casey pack at the hotel, and they would say goodbye there. Cam was to meet Mandy and we would join up for lunch after the train departed. Cam had deftly negotiated Casey’s departure arrangements so we might have some time alone, more or less, before the train left. Emily was to stay over till the first of the week when the new bank shareholders would meet. Cam and I had agreed that some shares in the Wainwright Savings Bank should be carved out for Emily, since as the sole heir to Ralph's insolvent estate her cooperation was critical to the bank’s salvation. Emily, in turn, had asked me to establish a trust for Ralph's unborn child with part of her share.
I had promised Cam that Mandy and I would make a trip to the Kansas Flint Hills in a month or so, after I had the reorganization at the bank in place. Mandy should get acquainted with her grandfather and her cousins, Cam insisted, and I admitted a change of scenery for a spell might not hurt me. I had never seen any country more beautiful than the Flint Hills in the fall, with its scalped limestone ridges and sharply carved canyons painted by the multi-hued greens and browns of waning grasses and the ambers and crimsons of oak, ash, sumac and other trees and brush readying for winter. Yes, a brief change might help put a few things behind me.
“Hello, cowboy. Is this seat taken?”
Startled from my reverie, I looked up and saw a stunning redhead looking at me with mischievous green-flecked brown eyes. “You’re early,” I said, gesturing for her to take a seat beside me.
“I thought it would be nice if we had a little time together before I left. A young man from the hotel is loading my baggage on the train.”
We sat on the bench watching the activity build up as departure time approached. I was glad to be with her and the silence was not an uncomfortable one. I just didn’t know what more to say.
“Are you sorry?” she asked.
“About what?”
“About us. What happened between us.”
“Never. How could I be sorry? Some folks go a lifetime without having any real magic touch their lives. To be sorry would be to say I wished I hadn’t experienced it.” I took her hand but continued staring at the milling passengers, mere shadows passing in front of me now. “No, I’ll take the magic when I can.”
“It was an interesting idea,” she said. “My reestablishing my practice here.”
“I’m a realist, though. Your opportunities in the big city far exceed anything you could expect working from Borderview. I was advocating my own self-interest when I proposed a partnership.”
She gave me a gentle nudge in the ribs with her elbow. “What would we have named such a partnership?”
I shrugged. “McGlaun, Heasty and Locke?”
“McGlaun first?”
“Ma’am,” I said, “your bargaining leverage was overwhelming.”
“Will you come to see me when you’re in Omaha?”
“I’m welcome?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’m sure we’ll meet up again. But I need some time. Maybe a lot of it . . . to get over you.”
The train whistle let out its mournful cry. The conductor called, “All aboard!”
We stood, and I walked her slowly to the passenger car. When we reached the boarding steps, she turned to me and looked up with tear-glazed eyes. She clutched me tightly, brushed her lips on my cheek and whispered, “I love you, Ian Locke. I’ll love you the rest of my days.”
Before I could reply, she disappeared onto the passenger coach, leaving me with my own words choking in my throat. I walked along the side of the coach trying desperately to catch one final glimpse, to give her a single last wave, but I could not find her.
The whistle gave its lonesome call again, and steam spewed from the engine. The racket of steel striking steel drowned out the other sounds as the train began to roll out of the station. I watched silently as the Denver & St. Joseph slowly moved Casey McGlaun, attorney at law, out of my life.
Then I heard a familiar voice call, “Ian! Ian!”
I looked up the track, perhaps twenty-five yards, and saw the billowing fabric of dresses fluttering off the side of the train and landing in small heaps along the side of the track. A huge carpetbag struck the depot platform and burst open, spilling and scattering the contents to the four winds. I raced along the track, and nearly out of breath, pulled even with the coach where Casey stood on the bottom entry step cheering me on. She leaped and landed with legs straddled around my waist and arms locked around my neck, before her momentum toppled us over and sent us rolling in the dust.
“McGlaun first,” she said, as she pressed me to the earth and smothered my reply with her lips.
Afterword
Thank you for purchasing this ebook. If you enjoyed reading it, please consider leaving a review at your favorite online retailer or Goodreads. For more information about Ron Schwab and his books, you may visit the author’s website at www.RonSchwabBooks.com.
Available on Amazon in October 2016, Deal with the Devil is the first book in Ron Schwab’s The Law Wranglers series. To learn more, please visit the author’s website or Amazon.com.