by Jo Noelle
The men passed by the alley where they were hiding and continued on toward Otto’s livery. Bernard watched silently without moving as long as he could. The men began walking into the road like they were headed toward the rail station. The train was due for the evening run in about an hour. Maybe they rode the train back out to wherever they were staying.
He helped Clara up.
“Is it clear?” she whispered. “Are the men gone?”
He shook his head. “They’ve moved on, though. I’d like to get you home.”
Clara nodded.
Bernard knew she’d been one of the captives. He supposed this might have brought back memories of her capture. He was surprised to see how calm she was now as she tucked one arm into his and held the plant with the other. She wasn’t even shaking. He admired her toughness. They walked out of the alleyway and onto the boardwalk in front of the mercantile.
They only got a few steps before Arlo slurred from behind them and across the street. “You stole from me, Newell. You owe me.”
Bernard scanned the street and saw Arlo standing in front of the Nugget Saloon. Then he saw his brother turn back toward him. He couldn’t have imagined a worse scenario. Clara was practically out in the open, and his potential targets split his attention to the left and right. Jess and Rex were a good hundred paces away. They might barely be within range to shoot, and Bernard couldn’t do anything about it.
Arlo wasn’t giving up, either. “You owe me a hundred dollars for stealing my sister.” He stumbled off the boardwalk and grabbed onto the hitching post to keep from falling. “You gotta pay up.”
The only thing worse than a man with a grudge was a drunk one with a gun. Bernard looked to see if Arlo had a holster. He glanced to see if his brother or those with him took a stance that would have meant they intended to pull their guns. They appeared to be watching casually.
A few people stumbled out of the Nugget and stood on the boardwalk, likely hoping to see some action.
“You tell him, Arlo,” one man yelled.
“I wouldn’t let no sister of mine take up with a jack-leg lawyer,” another called out.
Arlo stiffened and pushed away from the poles. “Reckon we’ll have this out, Newell.” He walked into the road like a toddler taking his first steps, tipping and wandering a crooked line.
Clara gasped behind Bernard. As despicable as her brother was, she must still have some affection for him. Bernard knew he couldn’t kill the man, but he had to disarm him.
“Clara, stand over in the doorway of the mercantile, way in the corner.” He worried that Clara or someone else might get hit with a stray bullet. He wouldn’t let that happen.
She moved away quickly.
He eyed up the trajectory of his preferred shot. It was likely that if he missed his target, the bullet would land in the field off to the side of the blacksmith’s shop. That was if no one came up the road from Lake City.
He waited patiently as Arlo bumbled and wavered closer to the spot. As he reached it, Bernard taunted him. “You gonna shoot me or what?”
Arlo reached for the gun at his side with a slow and clumsy motion, giving Bernard plenty of time to draw and sight his shot. Arlo’s hand shook and swung wide. Bernard watched the motion and shot the gun from Arlo’s grasp.
Arlo froze in the street. Maybe he realized how near death he had come. Nope, the man was dumb as a rock.
“Now you owe me a pistol, too,” he shouted while looking around himself for the gun.
The men gathered on the street whooped and laughed.
Bernard saw movement to his left. His uncle and their associate walked toward the train station, but Jess walked toward Arlo, crossing in front of Bernard.
“Hey, you. You got something against Newell?” Jess called out, waving the man toward him. “Me too. What’d he do to your sister?” Then Jess turned back to his uncle. “Rex, Chet, I’ll meet up with you later.”
Chet. Bernard knew that name. He was Rex’s son, but he’d been a string bean of a kid when Bernard left a decade ago. His heart cracked to think how the next generation of the Newell family was being corrupted along with the old. He was glad he got out. Bernard watched Arlo approach Jess. That combination wouldn’t be good.
“I’ll buy you a drink,” Jess said, slinging his arm around Arlo’s shoulders and walking him back inside the Nugget.
Chapter 10
Clara
“I won’t be alone,” Clara said when Bernard questioned her about going to the mercantile without him the next day. “Isla and Aileen are going with me, and it’s just across the street. I’ll drop off my grocery list and come back with them.”
“I carry a wee little gun in my pocket in case there’s any trouble about,” Isla called out.
Clara turned toward her. “Have you used it?”
“Of course. Why else would I carry one?”
Surprisingly, that made Clara feel a little safer. She leaned her weight on one foot and folded her arms in front of her, staring at her husband.
“I know you’re informing me and not really asking permission,” Bernard was quick to add. “But I like going with you.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve gone to Tuesday Tea without you and returned without incident.” Clara walked closer to him and whispered, so only he could hear. “I enjoy going with you too, but I’m just dropping off a list. I’ll be right back.”
He pushed his fingers through his hair. “I’ve been too worried about you. I like having someone to worry about, but I don’t want you to think I’d take away your freedom. See you soon.”
The women walked across Main Street and delivered their shopping lists. As they stepped out of the mercantile, Clara saw Arlo coming up the boardwalk. She had nothing to say to him. Once, she’d hoped to save the last shred of family she knew—that is, until he tried to sell her. She’d thought on that a few nights. As horrible as it was, it had brought her to Bernard. Still, she wouldn’t credit her brother with that.
Clara nodded without smiling his direction. That was the most she would do to acknowledge their acquaintance.
Arlo’s hand snapped out and grabbed Clara by the forearm. She could smell whiskey on his breath and incredible body odor.
“If you think puttin’ on a silk dress and struttin’ around town with that legal liar of yours makes you a better person than me, I’ll show you want I think o’ that.” Before Clara realized what he was planning, he spit in her face. “You got no family now.”
Isla spit back at him. “That makes it a binding contract. She’s not your family.”
She shoved him away from her, and he teetered backward, falling into a puddle of melting snow and mud.
Aileen and Isla hooked arms with her and hurried across Main Street and back to the restaurant.
Spittle mixed with tailings from his chewing tobacco oozed down her cheek. When they stopped at the door, she brushed her sleeve across her face. She thought maybe he was right about having no family. But she had Bernard, and she hoped they would make their lives different than either of them had known before.
She had friends who knew what family should act like and watched them every day at work. Julianne and Hugh, Millie and Edwin, and even Edwin with his sisters—they were good examples to her. Many of the ladies at tea were starting new marriages and seemed happy. She was surrounded by couples making it work. She had to believe that she and Bernard would, too.
Still, the past pain of losing a child cast a shadow on her hopes. Would losing a child together break any chance she and Bernard had?
“Thank you for going with me,” she told Aileen. Then she asked Isla, “It’s our turn to do the laundry, isn’t it? We’d better get started.” Clara waved to Bernard at the table with a client and hurried straight through the kitchen to the washroom at the far end of the building. A small pile of bedsheets sat in front of the washing machine. She picked one up and pushed it into the tub.
Isla came in carrying a bowl in one hand and holdin
g her apron around the handle of a pot of hot water with the other. Clara stepped out of the way, and Isla dumped most of the water into the washtub, then filled the bowl with the rest. Clara closed the lid.
“Are you ready?” Isla asked. “Let’s get your face washed.” She pulled soap out of her pocket and handed it to Clara.
She scrubbed her face several times before she felt like she could stop, then she took her place at the lever for the washtub. She spun the wheel a couple of times to latch down the lid, then began swaying back and forth as she moved the lever on the side. She could hear the plunger rise and fall, moving the fabric and water. It would take a few minutes for each sheet before they removed it and fed it through the mangle to squeeze the water out.
As Clara worked the lever, Isla spoke up. “Oh, did you hear? Ellis Turley’s house lost part of its roof in the snowstorm the other night.”
“No!” Clara responded. “That man might have the worst luck ever.”
“For sure he does. Dorothy Moore just keeps waiting and waiting for him, though. Her da won’t let them marry until his house gets completed, and it’s been six months already.”
“You haven’t lived here that long. How do you know all that?”
“I just keep my ears open. It’s a good story, don’t you think? First, his house gets washed out by a flash flood. Which was a good thing to my way of thinking. Imagine if that had happened when they were living in the house. So he picked a better location and started again. Then he built a one-room cabin, and her da said that wasn’t a proper house and still wouldn’t let them marry. He had to expand the place to have enough rooms for a family. Now he’s about got it done and part of the roof and a wall gets damaged from a falling tree in that last storm.”
“It was a tree?”
Isla brought another armload of wash toward the tub. “Aye. It was heavy with snow and fell right over on the house. The man is cursed.” She laughed. “They’ll be lucky to marry before Christmas now.”
Clara stopped the lever and unlatched the top of the washer. Together, the women put the sheet through the wringer, then hung it over the wire near the ceiling before starting on the rest. As Isla took over the lever on the next batch, Clara thought about her turn of events. She hadn’t wanted to marry but did so in less than ten minutes. Ellis and Dorothy had been waiting months and still couldn’t walk down the aisle together.
Ellis and Dorothy had taken years to get to know each other and develop friendship and passion. She imagined they had great longing to be together. Clara wanted that in her life. She wanted to learn to love Bernard deeply and with all her heart. Her pulse sped at that thought. She knew they already had those beginnings, and it thrilled her.
That evening after feeding their kittens, and as they sat together on the sofa, Bernard read poetry. The book was in his left hand, and his right arm was around her shoulders. His fingers gently combed through her hair as he read aloud. Clara loved the feel. His touch was soothing. She turned the pages, so Bernard’s hand would stay right where it was until they went to bed.
Their life was settling into a comfortable rhythm. Day and night, she felt like a wife and a happy one at that.
Like so many mornings lately, they woke to find it had snowed again the night before. Clara and Aileen joined arms as they left the Hearth and Home at mid-morning. Last year had been a mild winter, but this year seemed determined to make an early start of it. It was barely autumn. The gray clouds dumped wagonloads of snow on the surrounding mountains even when the valleys had only flurries or sleet. The snow boss was so busy keeping the roads to Bachelor, Lake City, and South Fork clear for travel that the roads within town were often neglected by his crew and hard to navigate. Either they were frozen skating rinks, or they were mushy mud holes. Today was the skating rink.
Millie and Beatrice held each other as well. The boardwalk was slippery, and the wind blew cold against their faces. Isla, Rhona, and Julianne followed close behind. They hurried as carefully as they could.
“I’ll be ready for a hot cup to warm me by the time we get to the tea shop,” Aileen said.
“I do look forward to Tuesdays,” Clara replied. “I wonder how many will brave this frigid wind to come today.” They shuffled along together, tightening their hooked elbows to steady each other and themselves.
“Maybe just us, but it will be worth it,” Aileen said.
Clara hoped they had those little lemon tea cakes topped with meringue. They were her favorite, but she was sure it was hard to get lemons now. She entered the shop and felt the warmth of the stove.
“Hello,” “Good morning,” and “Come in. Come in,” rang out from the women already there.
The ladies hung their coats. Clara hugged Eliza. “I’m surprised to see you here,” Clara said.
Eliza placed her hands on top of her growing stomach. “Not too many more times, I suppose, until after the new year. It’s getting uncomfortable to ride a horse down the hill.” Others nodded with understanding.
Clara hung her bonnet and sat down next to Rhona and across a table from Beth. Just as Clara settled, the door opened with a blast of cold air. Seffi, Vivian, and Marta came in.
“May I have some ginger tea, please?” Millie pressed her hands to her stomach as she asked Regina. “Of course. It will help settle your stomach,” Regina said then asked, “What would you like, Clara?”
“Peppermint, please.”
“I read that there’s been another mysterious bank non-robbery. It was in Durango this time,” Seffi said as the door shut behind her. “Blew a hole as large as a caboose in the wall.”
Beth opened her mouth, then snapped it shut.
“Do you know something more, Beth?” Clara asked.
“Well . . .” Beth looked around the group.
“Wait—wait until I get my coat off. I want to hear this,” Seffi said.
“Me, too,” called Vivian and Marta, who hurried over to join the group.
“There’s been such a disruption to the banks in this part of Colorado that the surrounding banks are worried that they can’t safely hold the payroll for the mining companies, so it’s all coming here,” Beth said in a hushed tone, and everyone scooted close together.
“Before it moves on to where?” Seffi asked.
Beth shrugged her shoulders.
Clara saw Hannah and Eliza link arms and realized that their husbands would be responsible for the safety of the money as much as Beth’s husband would be responsible for storing it. They both turned and looked at Rachel. Since her husband was a deputy, Dutch would likely be involved, also.
“There will be lots of security. It will be fine. The lawmen will make sure of that,” Mariah said.
“It’s like it’s being herded.” Seffi looked around the room. “I guess I’ve been around cattle all my life, so that makes sense to me. When cowboys want to turn a stubborn herd, one man might fire a shot in the air, and the cows move away from it.”
“So the robbers have fired shots to the north, west, and south of Creede,” Marta said.
“You think someone wants all that money to be in Creede?” Vivian asked.
“It makes sense,” Beth said softly. “Too much sense.”
Clara thought about Bernard’s brother loitering by the bank the other night. From what her husband said, his brother was a criminal, and bank robbery would be just the kind of thing he would do. Still, she would hate to accuse him if he wasn’t guilty. He was just hanging around Creede—doing nothing, really. She struggled to know what to say or do. Bernard’s past and his story wasn’t hers to tell.
Through the rest of the tea party, Clara was thinking about the possibility of the robbery. She didn’t say anything. She’d check with Bernard first. He knew his family better, so if he thought it was important, he could take it to KC, and she didn’t want to worry her friends unnecessarily.
Conversation turned to other subjects for the rest of the time. When she returned to Hearth and Home, she wanted to talk with
Bernard, but Hugh Fontaine was at his table. Their meeting must have just ended because Hugh and Bernard stood up and shook hands.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Newell,” Hugh said.
“Hello, Mr. Fontaine.” Clara pulled her gloves off and tucked them into her pockets.
“You’re looking at the new owner of Mr. Alpin’s place.”
Bernard held her coat for her to pull her arms out. She loved how thoughtful he was to her. “Congratulations. Are you moving there?” she asked Hugh.
“No. We’re opening the school there in the spring.” He turned back to Bernard. “Thanks for your help.” Then he tugged his hat on his head and left.
Bernard winked at Clara. “How was the Tuesday Tea?”
“Very nice. I love getting together with my friends. There are so many now.” Clara couldn’t help but wonder at the fortunate life she had. She’d come to a place when she was defeated and alone. She was imprisoned and then enslaved to her brother. Now she had a loving husband and a town full of friends. She was truly blessed. She would do whatever she could to protect them and her home. “Do you have time to talk, or are you expecting someone?”
“Please come sit with me.” He moved his papers aside. “I’ll always have time for you.”
She knew that elicited a silly smile from her, but she didn’t care. She liked how it sounded. “Have you had a sticky bun yet?” When he shook his head, she continued. “I’ll be right back.” She went to the kitchen and got a pot of coffee along with the sweet roll and returned.
“Thank you.” He took the plate from her. “What would you like to talk about?”