by Kit Morgan
“Harrison was carrying it on his shoulder and swung around to tell me something. Tom just happened to be in the way. That board smacked him in the skull and knocked him over.”
Cutty and Newton both grimaced. “Is he all right?” Cutty asked.
“He will be,” Amon said and glanced at the barn. Just then Tom Turner strode out of it, his hand at the back of his head. He waved at them and went straight to the house. Amon smiled. “Doc must have sent him to put a cold cloth on whatever bump he got. That means you’re next,” he told Cutty.
“Fine,” he said and pulled his finger out of Amon’s hand. He then made his way to the barn. “Doc!”
“Over here,” Doc Waller said as he came out of the empty horse stall he’d set up as a temporary doctor’s office. His doctor’s bag sat open atop a wooden box. He sat on a small barrel under a window, one of the few in the barn, which afforded him the light he needed. “What happened to you?”
Cutty walked into the stall, Newton on his heels. “Hit my finger with a hammer. This one,” he said with a toss of his head toward Newton, “insists I have ya take a look at it.”
“Oh, he does, does he?” Doc said with a smile. “Well then, let’s have a look.”
Cutty held out his hand. “It ain’t bad.”
Doc examined it. “No, it ain’t bad at all. In fact, it looks fine to me.”
“What?” Newton said and bent over Cutty’s shoulder to see. “But it looked awful a moment ago.”
“Looks perfectly fine now,” Doc said.
Cutty’s eyes widened as he held his finger up and stared at it. “Well, I’ll be … it is okay.”
“Maybe you didn’t hit it as hard as you thought,” Doc suggested. “Does it hurt?”
Cutty made a fist, then moved his fingers. “No, it … doesn’t.”
Newton’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “I dare say that’s the fastest recovery I’ve ever seen. A moment ago it looked terrible.”
“Yeah,” Cutty agreed as he wiggled his finger. He shrugged. “Guess I’m tougher than y’all thought.”
Newton looked unconvinced. “Or your finger is, at any rate.” He shook his head in amusement. “Right – back to work then.”
Cutty nodded as he continued to move his fingers. “Yeah …”
They returned to work, only now Newton didn’t leave – he stayed and worked alongside him. It made Cutty nervous. What Newton said next made it worse. “I’m going to visit some Indians with Seth and Ryder soon. Would you like to come along if they say it’s all right?”
“Injuns? Are ya out of your bloody mind?”
Newton stopped hammering, turned and stared at him. “What did you just say?”
Cutty paled. The first word had come out in his Western accent, the rest his native one. “Er … I said, are ya outta yer bleedin’ mind?” he repeated with a little extra twang.
Newton chuckled. “That’s what I thought you said, only you sounded like … Imogene.”
“Well … that ain’t so surprisin’. She’s a bad influence on me.”
“Right you are,” Newton laughed, and went back to his hammering. “Bad enough to marry her, I’d say.”
“Not ya too – stay out of my love life.”
Newton grinned. “So, a love life, is it? Well then, I rest my case. You really ought to marry the woman. I know you’d make her very happy.” He paused, then added, “I only have one question.”
“What?”
“Imogene Sayer would become Mrs. … what? I just realized I don’t know your full name. In fact, come to think of it, no one does. Why is that?”
Cutty almost fell over. He stared at him, jaw tight, his heart in his throat. What in the world was he going to tell him?
Eight
Imogene caught sight of the horrified look on Cutty’s face, gasped and hurried in his direction. Good grief, had he told Newton? Was Newton angry now?
Cutty stood still as a statue, his mouth-half opened to speak. Newton looked calm enough, but clearly waiting for him to say something. “Would either of you like some coffee?” she asked to break the silence.
“I would!” Cutty said with a shudder. “Dessert ready?”
Newton noticed Imogene. “I was just asking him what his surname is.”
“Cutty, a surname?” Imogene said, then smiled. “Where’s the fun in that?” Ah, now she knew what was going on. “Besides, I do like a man of mystery. Don’t ruin things for me.”
“I wouldn’t think of it,” Newton replied with a smile. “Now about dessert – what have the ladies made for us?”
“Belle and Sadie brought a few pies with them, but there’s not enough to go around, so Constance and I made cookies.”
“A few cookies and a cup of coffee would suit me, fine,” Newton said.
“Good. And what about you?” she asked Cutty. “Which would you prefer?”
He swallowed as his eyes flicked between Newton and the barn. “Just the coffee. I’ll be over there – I need more nails,” he added, taking off.
“Now what do you suppose has gotten into him?” Newton asked.
“What do you mean?”
“He doesn’t need any nails. I just brought him some.” He pointed at the small can full of nails on the ground. “See?”
Imogene looked at the can, then at Cutty as he entered the barn. “Maybe he’s tired and forgot.”
“If you ask me, something has him on edge lately.”
“On edge?” she said with a nervous smile. “Don’t be silly. That man is as calm as can be.”
“You didn’t hear him hit his finger earlier? I’m surprised he didn’t spook the horses,” Newton commented dryly.
“I heard something, but had no idea it was Cutty,” she admitted. “Is he all right? Perhaps I’d better go see.”
“He’s fine. Doc Waller checked him out. His finger looked bad, but only for a few minutes. It’s fine now.”
“Oh, well then, I’ll go start pouring the coffee.” She left and went back to the house where Constance was taking more cookies out of the oven.
“How many want pie?” Constance asked. She stood, wiped her brow with the back of her hand, then stared at the plate piled with cookies.
“I … came to get Cutty a cup of coffee first. He doesn’t want any sweets.”
Constance’s mouth dropped open. “Cutty? Turned down sweets? Is he all right?”
“He’s perfectly fine. I think he’s simply worked too hard and needs a break. He’s not as young as the rest of them out there, you know.”
“Him and me both,” Belle commented and rubbed her back. “I’m with Cutty – I need a rest.”
“You’re quite right. Maybe he should quit for the day,” Sadie agreed.
“Quit?” Imogene declared. “Ha! He won’t quit – he’s too stubborn. If I suggest to him that he quit working before the other men, he’ll not speak to me for a week.”
“Then you’ll be even,” Constance reminded her. “You didn’t speak to him for as long, if not longer.”
Imogene sighed and reached for the coffee pot. “We’ve made up – and I want to keep it that way.”
Constance’s face broke into a huge grin. “I knew it! You two are going to get married, aren’t you?”
“Eventually – if he ever gets up the nerve to ask,” Imogene told her. “I think he’s waiting until your house is built. I don’t think he wants me living at the hotel with him – he wants a place of his own.”
“This place,” Constance said with a smile. “You know Ryder offered it to him.”
“Yes, I know.”
“What’s the matter?” Constance asked. “You don’t look very happy about it. I know it’s small and needs a few things, but …”
“No, no, my dear, it’s not that. There are … other things Cutty wants to take care of first. Men are prideful beasts, you know.”
“Oh, we know,” Sadie said flatly. She reached for a spatula and started putting cookies onto a second plate. “Would you
take this first batch out to the men? I’m going to put more in the oven. The pies are already sliced. They’ll have to eat them with their hands – I’m afraid Constance doesn’t have enough plates to go around.”
Constance shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Understandable, dear,” Imogene assured her. “After you’re in your new home, we’ll order you some new dishes to go with it.”
“Oh, but Cousin Imogene, Ryder and I can’t afford …”
“Nonsense – I’ll get them for you. Consider it a late wedding present. Besides, you can’t expect the family to bring their own plates and forks each time you invite them to dinner.”
Constance glanced at Sadie and Belle and laughed. “It worked the last time.”
“By necessity, my dear.” Imogene said, pouring a cup of coffee for Cutty.
She picked up the plate of cookies and headed out the door. When she reached the barn, he was just coming out. “Here, have a sip of this. It will do you good.”
He took the cup from her. “Thank ya, Imogene.” He spied the cookies. “I’ll take some of those now.”
Imogene looked this way and that, then leaned toward him. “What happened?” she asked in a low voice. “With Newton?”
Cutty checked his surroundings as well, then slipped into his real voice. “He brought up our possible marriage, and asked what your last name would be.”
She blanched. “Oh dear.”
“Quite. What was I supposed to tell him? Come to think of it, how can we get married? I’ll have to use my legal name …”
Imogene stared at him, wide-eyed. “Oh. Dear.”
“As you said previously.”
“Then everyone will know …”
Cutty sobered. “And after that, they’ll likely hang me higher than Haman, and make you a widow.”
“Stop that. No one is going to hang you.” She stared at him, her jaw tight. “At least I … well …”
“You hope they don’t, right? Face it, Imogene, we didn’t think about this part of it. We’ve been busy worrying about Nettie and Newton’s reaction, not that of the entire town. We should’ve foreseen this complication –”
“Cutty!” she said, looking to her left.
Cutty glanced that way, saw Colin coming around the barn, and quickly switched back to his adopted persona. “Dagnabit! Pass me them cookies, will ya?” Then he whispered, “I gotta be more careful.”
“Either that, or give up the pretense,” Imogene hissed back.
“Easy for ya to say – it won’t be yer head in the noose …”
“What’s going on over here?” Colin asked as he joined them, then spied the plate. “Cookies!” He reached for the plate and grabbed a few. “Thank you, Cousin Imogene.
“We have coffee in the house if you’d like some.”
“Certainly. One cannot eat cookies properly without coffee or tea. Besides, we’re due for a little break. Gentlemen!” he called to the men. “The ladies have made us a treat!”
A cheer went up as the men began to disperse, some to the house and some to Imogene and her plate of cookies, which was fine with her. She was worried about Cutty more than ever. What if Colin or Harrison had heard him speak as Thackary Holmes? Waiting to see Newton and Nettie’s reactions was nerve-wracking enough, but the Cooke family … she didn’t want to think about what they might do.
Imogene passed out her cookies, then went to the house for more, but had to calm herself on the way. How had she not thought about his last name – her last name once she married him? And now she might not be able to marry him at all – not if it was going to put him in danger.
She loved her family, but what if they didn’t want her to have anything to do with Cutty after they found out his true identity? What if they ran him out of town even after all he’d done to redeem himself?
“No! They can’t!” she muttered as she marched to the house. “They wouldn’t!”
Or would they? There was really no way of knowing until they got the news …
* * *
Cutty ate his cookies, but didn’t taste them. He downed the coffee, burning his throat and didn’t care. His heart had sunk to his toes the moment he realized he might not be able to marry Imogene. And all because of …
“Because of me,” he said to himself. He blew out a breath and hung his head. The look in Imogene’s eyes when they’d both realized their mistake was heart-wrenching. But what could he do about it?
Cutty bit his lower lip in determination. He’d have to find a way – he owed it to her. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him besides Nettie and Newton. He couldn’t let her down anymore than he already had.
He watched her emerge from the house with another plate of cookies and start passing them out. He could do with a few more, but after that last conversation they tasted more sour than sweet – just like his mood. He’d be glad when this day was over.
“Cutty?”
He turned. Amon stood, some cookies in his hand. “Did you get some?”
“Yeah, but I don’t want no more. Thanks for offerin’.”
Amon gave him a single nod. “I almost forgot – Nettie wanted you to come home with me to supper tonight. You can stay with us, then ride out with me in the morning.”
“Yer gonna be here tomorrow too?”
Amon nodded as he shoved a cookie into his mouth and chewed.
A chance to spend time with Nettie … the offer was tempting. He glanced at Imogene. She’d ride home with the Cookes, of course, and Ryder and Constance would be tuckered out from the day’s labors. “Sure. I’ll come.”
“Fine. We’ll leave in time to get home before dark.”
Cutty nodded as Amon offered him a cookie. “Aw, okay,” he said and took it. “If ya insist.”
“You know you want it,” Amon said with a smile. “Nettie made you a cake for tonight.”
Cutty looked at the cookie in his hand, then at Amon. “Chocolate?”
“Sure. It’s your favorite, right?”
He nodded as a chill went up his spine. “Yeah …”
“She made it special, just for you. Maybe you shouldn’t eat that. I wouldn’t want you spoiling your appetite for my wife’s cooking.”
Cutty gulped and handed him back the cookie. “Right.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Cutty told him. “Best get back to work.
Amon watched him a moment. “Sure.” He ate the cookie, watched Cutty a moment more with a look that said I’m not convinced, then strolled back to where the other men were talking and eating.
Cutty took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I can’t take much more of this,” he whispered, making a fist. Maybe he should get it over with, work up his nerve and tell Nettie tonight. He’d only have Amon to deal with … though Amon was a big fellow and could easily pound him into pudding. But he was going to have to do it sometime and he’d have to deal with Amon either way.
But Amon Cotter didn’t know his past like the Cooke family did – when they found out, it might not be pretty. Hmmm … maybe he and Imogene should keep it secret as he’d originally planned. They could travel to someplace like Oregon City, or that little town in the Washington Territory Sheriff Hughes was from to get hitched. No one would think to look for them there …
… “Oh drat!” he said under his breath. Elsie Drake, formerly Elsie Waller, was from there. And Sheriff Hughes visited his relations there regularly. Word would still get around. San Francisco, maybe? Seattle?
Cutty shook his head. There was no easy solution to his problem. He’d just have to muddle through in the meantime, concentrate on Nettie and Newton, and figure out the rest later. He groaned and picked up his hammer. “A fine kettle of fish this is,” he grumbled and headed to where he’d been working earlier.
He stopped short. There was, of course, one way to get out of this mess …
“No. No, I can’t!” He started moving again. Imogene would never forgive him – and probably tell ever
yone who he was – if he just ran away. That was something that low-down, sniveling coward Thackary Holmes would do. “I ain’t that man no more!”
But how long could he remain Cutty? He longed to use his normal accent and speech – lately he was doing so every time he thought he could get away with it. What if in a panic he forgot to talk like Cutty? Everyone would know, even if only a couple of folks heard him. News traveled fast in a small town like Clear Creek, even faster if Fanny Fig was involved! That busybody would spread the news faster than lightning, and then where would he be?
He glanced at the nearest tree and cringed. Swinging from a branch, that’s where.
Cutty reached his previous spot and went to work. Maybe if he labored hard enough, he could forget the mess he was in for a few minutes. Or possibly even work up the nerve to tell Nettie tonight.
Another chill went up his spine. “I ain’t ready. I just ain’t!” he muttered, then “Consarnit, don’t be such a coward!” Great – now he was arguing with himself! He banged the hammer down harder than he should and heard a crack. He lifted the hammer to examine it.
“Blast!” He’d broken the handle! Now he owed someone a hammer. He turned it in his hand and saw “Turner” carved into the wood. He glanced around, spotted Tom Turner sawing a board and began to make his way toward him. “What a day I’m havin’,” he said as he walked.
But a broken hammer was the least of his worries. He was still thinking about what he was going to do that night. Sooner or later, he had to tell Nettie the truth.
Nine
He didn’t do it.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t; the words were on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill forth like a raging river. But Nettie was so happy with the dinner and dessert she’d prepared for him that he didn’t have the heart. He’d smiled and nodded, laughed, had a grand time. He supposed he was being selfish – he’d wanted one last heavenly evening with his daughter before he told her who he was. After that, she might never want to see him again.
A week later, though, he still hadn’t confessed. He was starting to miss Nettie’s laughter and teasing. Ryder’s house was coming along nicely, enough to allow Ryder and Seth to take off hunting for a few days. And this time, Newton had gone along with them. Constance went to stay with August and Penelope while Ryder was off, not wanting to spend that time alone. And Imogene hadn’t been feeling well, so she was staying close to home.