by Kit Morgan
“Amon’s right,” Nettie said. “You should do it before winter sets in. Mr. Dunnigan at the mercantile told me the other day that it sometimes snows here as early as October.”
“True enough,” Amon agreed. “If you two are going to go, you’d best do it the next few weeks.”
“I know, I know,” Cutty grumbled. “I’ll talk to him when I see him again. I’m sure he won’t mind if I tag along. Maybe I’ll take him to where I used to live.”
“I’d like to go with you if you do that,” Amon said.
“And leave me here by myself?” Nettie groused.
“You could come with us,” Amon suggested.
“I will do no such thing! You’ll not see me traipsing around the countryside. I’ll go stay with Eloise.”
“At the hotel?” Cutty teased. “No better place, I guess.”
“Nowhere else as comfortable,” she added with a sly grin. “I could have Mrs. Upton cooking for me. It will be grand, I’m sure.”
“She’s so civilized,” Cutty teased.
Amon reached over and patted his wife’s leg. “That she is. Cultured, refined and beautiful. I’m a very lucky man.”
Cutty saw the admiration in his eyes and was glad the two were married. Amon would take good care of his daughter. He didn’t have to worry about her. Newton, on the other hand …
“When you see him,” Amon said, “tell him I’d like to come along.”
“So soon?” said Nettie.
“Best to do it while the weather’s good. Besides, I know you won’t mind spending a few days in town with Eloise.”
“Indeed not. It will be like a holiday.”
“I guess that settles it,” Cutty said. “Soon as Newton gets back from his latest adventure, Amon and I’ll talk to him about goin’ on another one.”
Amon nodded. “Good.” He stretched and yawned. “In the meantime, I think I’ll turn in. Coming, Nettie?”
“Yes, of course,” she said. She looked at Cutty. “You know where the blankets are kept.”
“Yep. But I think I’ll sit here and read a while ‘fore I turn in if’n that’s all right.” He watched as they got up and headed for the staircase. “Good night,” he called after them.
Amon went up the stairs. Nettie hesitated and turned to Cutty. “Pleasant dreams … Father,” she whispered.
He smiled as his heart swelled. “You too,” he whispered back. “Daughter.”
* * *
The next morning Cutty awoke to the smell of coffee and bacon. He’d slept in one of the spare bedrooms, and dreamt of doing the same with grandchildren running into his room to aggravate him. He sighed. One day …
He got up, dressed, washed his face and went downstairs. “What’s for breakfast?” he asked, though he already knew.
“Sit down and find out,” Nettie said, pouring him a cup of coffee.
“Where’s Amon?”
“Feeding the stock – he’ll be along.”
Cutty sat at the table and smiled. “Did ya say anythin’ to him last night?”
She brought his cup to the table and set it down. “No.”
He picked up the cup, took a sip and smacked his lips together. “Mm, that’s good.”
“You know, you don’t have to act like that when we’re alone,” she said. “You can be yourself.”
“Actually, I kinda like being Cutty. I don’t hafta watch my manners so much.”
“You should, for Imogene’s sake.”
“She likes me as Cutty, too.”
“She loves you, either way.”
“Yes, but she prefers the old coot over the English gentleman. I don’t mind neither – though sometimes it’s hard to keep the mask on, if’n ya know what I mean.” He studied her a moment. “That a new dress?”
Nettie brushed a hand over the skirt of the light green calico dress she wore. “Do you like it?”
“It’s purty. Has Amon seen it yet?”
“He watched me work on it in the evenings. But no, he hasn’t seen me wear it yet.” She glanced at the kitchen’s back door. “He will in a moment.”
“I hope Newton gets as lucky as Amon.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I hope he finds and marries a gal just like his sister – a purty woman who can cook, sew and take care of him. Ya gotta admit, Amon’s a lucky man.”
Nettie giggled. “I’ll have to tell him.” She turned to the stove and stirred something in a pot. “Who knows how long it will be before Newton settles down? Amon was right, my dear brother needs to get this wanderlust out of his system first.” He watched her spoon oatmeal from the pot into a bowl, bring it to the table and set it in front of him. She returned to the stove, took a plate of bacon out of the warming oven and set that on the table as well.
“What if he leaves?” Cutty asked.
“Leaves?” she asked and handed him a spoon.
“Yeah. I mean, after I tell him, what if he hightails it outta here?”
“Why would he?”
“On account he might hate me and not want to see my sorry hide ever again.”
“I pray that won’t happen,” she said. “Face it – you don’t know what he’ll do. Spend time together, get to know him first. Things will go much easier if you do.”
“I hope it goes as well as it did with us,” he said in a quiet voice.
She sat at the table and put a hand over his. “It will, you’ll see. He’ll love you just as much as I do.”
“Either that or he’ll shoot me.”
“Do stop thinking of the worst outcome, will you?”
“I cain’t help it. Maybe ’cause if’n I were in his shoes, I’d wanna shoot me too.”
She shook her head. “Do you want me to be there when you tell him?”
“Nah, I’d better do it alone. Maybe when we’re out on the prairie. You’ll know he didn’t take it well if’n I don’t come back.”
“All the more reason to take Amon with you.”
“I suppose,” he said and poked his spoon into the oatmeal.
“Let’s not worry about it right now,” she said. “Eat your breakfast before it gets cold.” She got up, went to the stove and dished herself up a bowl. “We’d best not speak of it any more – Amon will be coming in soon.”
“Fine,” he said and took a bite. He chewed, swallowed, then said, “I think I’ll head back to town. Maybe Imogene’ll be around.”
She glanced at him and smiled. “Soon we’re going to have another wedding,” she sang.
He smiled back. “Sure, if’n I live long enough to get married.”
“Stop that! Trust me, Newton will love you as I do.”
“Maybe, but how long’s it gonna take?”
Her smile sharpened. “It depends. How long are you going to take?”
* * *
After breakfast Cutty helped Amon with a few chores, then headed back to town. For one, he needed to get the horse he’d borrowed from the livery stable back to Chase. And two, he missed Imogene.
His plan was to wait around town for a few hours. If she didn’t show up, he’d borrow a horse again and ride out to the Triple-C, something he hadn’t done before. He generally avoided the Cookes as much as he could for obvious reasons. He didn’t want to take a chance on any of them recognizing him.
But then, how could they? He had almost no hair, and what he had was growing in white, thank Heaven for that. He wore an eye patch and part of his face was burnt, even if the scars were growing faint. He walked differently, hid his native accent and spoke like (as Imogene put it) a cranky old coot. If they hadn’t recognized him yet, what made him think they would now?
Still, he was nervous as to what the Cookes would do when they found out who he really was. Would they demand justice? Have Sheriff Hughes toss him in jail? Run him out of town? He knew they were capable of it and had done it before, to some chap named Slade, August had told him. He shuddered at the thought and pictured himself tarred and feathered, the Cooke broth
ers goading him with their guns as they ran him down Clear Creek’s only street …
Cutty gulped. “It ain’t gonna come to that,” he told himself as he headed for Mulligan’s saloon. Maybe a drink would help calm his nerves, or a game of checkers with Patrick Mulligan. They’d started playing about a month ago here and there to pass the time. No wonder Wilfred, the sheriff and Cyrus Van Cleet played so much. It was surprisingly relaxing.
He entered the saloon and stopped short. Harrison Cooke was at the bar talking with Willie the stagecoach driver. “Then what happened?” Harrison asked.
“They went racing ‘cross the prairie like the devil was chasin’ ‘em!” Willie said, then took another swig of coffee. “Darnedest thing I ever did see. I swear one of ‘em was a girl!”
“A girl, you say?” Harrison said with a raised eyebrow. “Here?”
“Well, not ‘zactly here. I’d say ‘bout fifteen miles east o’ here, as the crow flies.”
“What’re ya two flappin’ yer gums about?” Cutty asked, curious.
“Willie here says he saw a small band of Indians out hunting yesterday, and thought he saw Ryder Jones and Newton Whitman with them.”
Cutty’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“Sure did!” Willie said with a grin. “I knew Ryder and Seth headed out with that Whitman fella, but I had no idea they was gonna see them Injuns.”
“Indians?” Cutty squeaked, even though he knew most of the Indians in these parts were friendly. He still had his misgivings.
“What’s this about a lassie?” Patrick asked.
“Cain’t be sure, they rode by so fast,” Willie said, “but I thought I saw one.”
“How’s a person to tell?” Patrick probed. “All the Indians wear their hair long.”
“How many Injuns ya know with long red hair?” Willie asked.
Patrick gaped at him. “Red hair?”
“Looked red to me,” Willie said. “Ain’t got all my teef, but I still got both eyes.”
Cutty stood and listened with interest. Newton was out hunting with a band of Indians? He thought he and Ryder had gone hunting, maybe see the Indians in passing, but ….
“Stranger things have happened around here,” Harrison commented.
“That’s for sure,” Patrick agreed. “But the Indians, they don’t let their women hunt any more’n we do.”
“If it indeed was a woman,” Harrison pointed out. “Right, Willie?”
“I know what I saw!” Willie insisted. “Lightnin’ strike me if’n I didn’t!”
“What would a redheaded woman be doin’ with a bunch of Injuns in the first place?” Cutty asked.
“Maybe she was kidnapped as a child and raised by them?” Harrison suggested. “I’ve heard of such.”
“Aye, but ye don’t hear about them hunting with the braves,” Patrick repeated. “It’s just not done.”
“Quite right,” Harrison agreed. “The only thing to do is ask the Joneses and Mr. Whitman when they return.”
“Aye,” Patrick agreed, then looked at Cutty. “What’ll ye have?”
“Coffee. And some lunch if Mrs. Dunnigan made anything.”
“She whipped up some stew earlier. Don’t ye usually eat at the hotel?”
“Can’t a man change it up?” Cutty barked.
Patrick held up both hands. “No need to get upset. Have a seat and I’ll bring ye yer meal.”
Cutty watched him disappear into the kitchen, then turned to Harrison. “Did Imogene ride into town with ya?”
“She did. She’s visiting with Grandma Waller. Would you like me to tell her you’re here? I was going to head that way.”
“I’d be much obliged.”
Harrison winked at Willie, then looked at Cutty. “So, what are your intentions concerning my cousin?”
“Intentions?” Cutty huffed. “Ya mean am I gonna marry her?”
Harrison laughed. “Of course that’s what I mean. But you’ll do right by her, won’t you?”
“’Course I will! What makes ya think I won’t?”
“To be honest, I’m surprised the two of you aren’t married already. Everyone in town knows how fond you are of each other. But my brother and I do have concerns.”
Cutty gulped. “Well, ‘course ya would. I ain’t got a dime to my name.”
“But you’ll remedy that, won’t you?” Harrison asked.
“I plan to,” Cutty said as a new realization hit. It was bad enough he had the whole I’m-really-Thackary-Holmes dilemma, but Harrison did have a valid point. Even if he worked for Ryder and took up residence in his old house, could he support Imogene? Would they have enough to eat? A roof over their heads was one thing, food on the table in a consistent manner another. He assumed he could handle things, but could he really? What if Ryder fell on hard times and wasn’t able to pay him?
Of course, if the Cookes ran him out of town, he wouldn’t have to worry about it any way …
“Cutty?” Harrison said. “How do you plan on taking care of you and Imogene?”
Cutty shook himself. “Oh, that, yeah … I’ll be workin’ for Ryder.”
Harrison studied him a moment. “That sounds reasonable enough. Ryder has some great plans for a horse-breeding business. I know he’ll need the help, and the two of you get along well enough … well, then I think it’s safe to say you have our blessings.”
Cutty eyed him. “All three of ya?”
“We keep Duncan apprised of things, so yes. I know he’ll be very happy to see Imogene wed.”
“I’ll take those blessin’s,” Cutty told him, then silently added, I can use all the blessings I can get.
Eleven
“A girl?” Imogene said, bringing her hand to her chest. “Are you sure?”
“That’s what Willie said,” Cutty informed her. “But I’m not sure I’ll take his word for it.”
Imogene took another sip of her tea. By the time she’d finished her business with Grandma Waller, Cutty had finished his lunch. Together they’d retreated to the hotel for tea, cookies and enough privacy to let him use his own accent. They’d chosen a far corner of the restaurant, and sat facing the rest of the room to give themselves plenty of warning. “I dare say – what a shock it would be to discover there’s a girl living with a pack of savages!”
“By all reports, they aren’t savages – they live peaceably, per Willie and per Ryder and Seth. It’s not like they’re the Thuggees in India.”
“Still, it’s rather odd, don’t you think?”
“I’m too busy thinking about when to tell Newton who I really am, to be honest.”
“Oh yes, that,” she said dryly. “Nettie took the news well?”
“Far better than I expected. But perhaps she’s still in shock. I must admit I am, with how well she accepted it. Accepted me.”
“When are you going to tell Newton?”
“You know my plan. It won’t be the moment he gets back. I’ll take him out hunting myself, spend time with him. Then I’ll tell him.”
“You? Hunt?” she said, raising an eyebrow at him. “Don’t be absurd.”
“I can pull the trigger of a gun as well as any man. Remember where I lived my past life, and among whom – I bagged a few foxes in my day, and more than a few pheasant.”
She smiled. “Nothing compares to a tiger.”
“Oh please, not the tiger stories again …”
“Or perhaps a crocodile,” she teased.
“Egads. I’ve already heard that blasted crocodile tale from the Cookes!”
“A bowdlerized version – those poor dears don’t know the whole story.”
Cutty frowned. “I’m sorry for being so snappish, but … let’s save that for another time. I have to figure out how I’ll arrange things once Newton returns.”
“Work on Ryder’s house a few days, then take him onto the prairie and shoot something. There, problem solved.” Seeing him grimace, she continued. “Well? Can you come up with a better plan?”
His face fell. “No … I can’t. Yet.”
“Well, you can always ask how he spent his time with those sava – with the natives.”
“If Willie saw what he thinks he did. Maybe the sun was in his eyes.”
Imogene took one of his hands and held it. “Everything will turn out fine, you’ll see. In the meantime, I’ve decided to begin work on our first book.”
“Our first book?”
“Of course,” she drawled. “You don’t think I’m going to write this by myself, do you?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Dare I ask?”
“I think we should write our own version of ‘The Pirate’s Peril’.”
“You can’t do that. It would have the same title.”
“Happens all the time,” she countered.
“It does not.”
“It most certainly has.”
He eyed her skeptically. “If you’re sure. The last thing I need in my life is a lawsuit.”
“Oh, you do worry! You can read the first chapter when you and Newton return from your … expedition.”
“Expedition,” he said and sighed. “The expedition I’d really like to take is …”
She leaned toward him. “Yes?”
He looked into her eyes. “… the one where I meet you at the end of a church aisle. But I know that won’t happen unless I get this straightened out.”
“My Cutty,” she said and gave his hand a squeeze. “You’ll do it. I have faith in you.”
He swallowed hard. “Glad one of us does.”
* * *
Three days passed before Newton and the Jones brothers returned. Cutty saw Seth slip into the hotel and up the grand staircase, Newton on his heels. They were dusty and dirty, and Cutty swore he saw dried blood on Newton’s saddlebags. What on earth had those boys been up to?
Seth would no doubt get an earful from his wife Eloise. But she didn’t seem upset this morning when Cutty saw her at breakfast. He’d assumed they’d returned the day before and was giving Newton a chance to rest before he talked to him about returning to Ryder’s place to help finish the house.
Mrs. Upton interrupted his thoughts as she came out of the kitchen, a tea tray in her hands. “I’m taking this up to Seth and Eloise. Are you done with your breakfast?” She set her load on the table, took several muffins off a plate near him and put them on the tray. “Well?”