by Kit Morgan
A tear trickled down the side of his face. Cutty wiped it away, closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep.
* * *
The next morning after breakfast, Jefferson and the women loaded themselves into the wagon while Cutty, Colin and Harrison each mounted horses. Logan had come by that morning, heard the news and gawked accordingly. He kept gawking every time he set eyes on Cutty, then hustled out the door to start his day. So far, so good, Cutty thought.
The trip to Clear Creek was peaceful and he wondered what people would think when they saw the entire Cooke family in town, and he with them. Maybe they’d think that he and Imogene were going to announce their wedding. Just as well. Maybe then the good people of Clear Creek would be in a better mood when they heard what he really had to say.
But then, he wasn’t there to address the entire populace like some touring politician. No, Belle and Sadie had helped him make a list at breakfast of people who had to be told. Doc and Grandma Waller, and Doc and Elsie Drake – they’d done their fair share of tending him when he was down. The Mulligans. Sheriff Hughes and his deputy Bran O’Hare. Chase Adams. Levi Stone. The Van Cleets. And of course, the Dunnigans.
And the list only included the folks Sadie figured would be in town. That still left the five more distant relatives – Constance, Penelope, Lena, Fina and Apple – plus their husbands, all of whom might want nothing more to do with him. He might catch a few of those today …
“Nervous?” Colin asked as he rode beside him.
“Wouldn’t you be?” Cutty said.
“Of course. In fact, I’d be worried about you if you weren’t.”
“Thanks. It’s not as bad as it was yesterday. I dreaded telling you and your brother as much as I did Newton and Nettie.”
“Really? Why is that, other than the obvious?”
“Because you’re family. A man needs family and I wasn’t looking forward to losing any before I even had the chance to enjoy them.”
Colin smiled. “I’m glad you’re here, Cutty.” He kicked his horse into a canter to catch up to Harrison, who rode ahead in case they ran into anyone on The List.
Cutty licked his lips as they got closer to town. They passed the trail that led down to the oak the Cookes dubbed “His Majesty,” where the town’s annual picnic was held. Oddly, Cutty had never gone to see it himself. He wondered why not – it wasn’t like he’d been too busy.
Maybe he could attend the picnic next summer as himself, with nothing between him and his relations nor anyone else. Now that he’d confessed who he was, or rather had been, he craved the sense of freedom it brought. Soon everyone would know, and then he could be just plain, humble (or humbled) Cutty Holmes. Provided Irene Dunnigan didn’t kill him first.
They reached town and Jefferson parked the wagon in front of the livery stable. Cutty and the others dismounted and tethered their horses to a nearby hitching post. “So what’s the plan, Mrs. Cooke?” Cutty asked.
Sadie reached up and took Honoria from Edith who still stood in the back of the wagon. “Call me Sadie. And since we’re next to the livery, why don’t we start with Chase?”
Cutty swallowed hard and glanced at the wide double doors. They were open. “Right.”
“Might it be better if we gathered a few together?” Harrison asked. “Poor Cutty doesn’t want to have to repeat himself too many times, I imagine.”
“Actually, I have an idea!” Belle piped up. “Why don’t we just tell Fanny Fig? Then the whole town will know before sundown!”
The group was evenly divided between those laughing and those aiming dirty looks – at Colin. Colin just looked at Belle. “Clearly I’ve been a bad influence on you.”
Belle didn’t say anything, just winked at him.
Sadie rolled her eyes. “Harrison, why don’t you and Colin round up the Dunnigans, Sheriff Hughes, Doc and Grandma, and anyone else you can find and meet us in the saloon?”
“Right you are!” Harrison said enthusiastically. He slapped Cutty on the back and headed down the street.
“Why is he so … happy?” Cutty asked.
“I think he wants to get it over with as much as you do,” Sadie said. “Harrison likes his life to run smoothly. With this done, he hopes he can get things back to normal.”
“I see,” Cutty mumbled.
“Don’t worry,” Belle said as she watched Colin disappear into the livery. “He’s not making this about him. Nor will Colin – they’re just trying to help. Besides, it will be easier on you if you don’t have to drag out the day with telling people.”
Cutty nodded and took Imogene by the hand. “Might as well get to it, then.” He pulled Imogene along beside him and headed for Mulligan’s Saloon.
It didn’t take long for the place to fill with people. Not only had Harrison and Colin gathered the Dunnigans, Wallers and Sheriff Hughes, but also the Drakes, the Van Cleets, Lucy White (who happened to be in town), Tom Turner and his parents and Levi Stone. Patrick and Mary Mulligan, of course, were already in attendance.
Cutty looked over the crowd and shook right down to his toes. Still, his nerves weren’t as bad as when he’d finally told Nettie. His eyes found Irene Dunnigan, and noted her hands were empty of potential weapons, thank the Lord.
“I suppose you’re all wondering why we’ve asked you to gather here,” Harrison announced. “Well, it’s because Cutty and Imogene have something to share with you …”
“About time!” Sheriff Hughes called out.
“We need to celebrate!” Mr. Mulligan shouted, hands in the air.
“No, no, not yet,” Harrison said as he stood on a chair. “Now please listen. This man has something to tell you, and for most of you it may come as a shock. But I speak for my entire family when I say, give the man a chance to do something that any one of us in the same spot would want to be able to do. The question is, would we have the same courage to do it?” He jumped off the chair and motioned for Cutty to take the floor.
Cutty took off his hat, made his way to the bar and stood in front of it so he could face everyone. “Thank you, Harrison,” he began.
Whispers went through the assembly, all of them saying some form of why is Cutty suddenly talking like one of the Cookes?
“Well,” he said and swallowed again. “First of all, as has been rumored, Imogene and I are planning to wed …”
A cheer went up.
“Now, wait, wait,” he said, waving his hands to quiet them. Everyone settled down to listen. He saw Preacher Jo and Annie slip into the saloon, and it bolstered his courage. “But before we can marry, I have a problem that needs sorting out. You see … I can’t marry her unless I use my legal name. As you may be guessing by my accent, I have been living here recently under … shall we say, false pretenses …” He took a moment to stare at the floor.
“So?” remarked Patrick Mulligan. “How bad can it be?” He glanced at Harrison and Colin. “How bad can it be?”
Sheriff Hughes stepped forward. “What is this all about, Cutty? And what’s with the funny voice?”
Cutty looked at Imogene, who gave him a tiny nod, then at Sheriff Hughes. “This is about the man I used to be – before I met the fine people of this town.” He cleared his throat. Time to face the music. “My legal name … is Thackary Cuthbert Holmes.”
The people went stock still and gawked as Logan had. Then …
“Land sakes!”
“Great Scott!
“I don’t believe it!”
“Merciful heavens, is it true?”
“Wilfred, do something! Never mind, I will!”
Cutty instinctively crouched. Unfortunately, that made it impossible to see if Irene had grabbed a cudgel with which to do him in …
“Settle down, all of you!” Colin called over the crowd.
Harrison jumped onto a chair again. “That remains, this man is part of our family.”
That got everyone’s attention. The crowd quieted.
“Thank you,” Harrison said. “Now
, we know some of you aren’t overly fond of Thackary Holmes, and with justification. But we, the Cookes, are the ones he’s done his worst to. And we have every reason to believe that he is a changed man, and we have given him our forgiveness. If we can, I believe all of you can, too.”
Sheriff Hughes stepped forward. “That’s a tall order, Harrison. Family or no, this man has to answer to the law.”
“You’re really Thackary Holmes?” Cyrus Van Cleet asked. “But … you rescued Harrison’s wife, and Colin’s.”
“And mine,” Seth added. “Haven’t you ever done something and regretted it? Have you ever lived a life you wished you hadn’t. This man has. And I can honestly say he’s sorry for it.”
Cutty felt tears sting the back of his eyes. He’d never cried so much in his life as these last weeks in Clear Creek. “Thank you, Seth.”
“How come you’re talking all fancy now?” Levi Stone asked. “If you’re really this Thackary Holmes – whom I’ve heard nothing but bad reports about, I might add – then why this pretense?”
“I’m afraid that the rasping drawl was the pretense,” Cutty explained. “This is my natural voice – for good or ill. I no longer want to be the man I was before I came here … but I also no longer wish to live a lie.” His voice began to quaver, and he frowned. He didn’t want to let his emotions get the best of him. He wasn’t through yet.
“You!” Irene Dunnigan said and pushed her way through the crowd. “I almost got killed because of you!”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and bowed his head. “But I had nothing to do with that gang’s idea to kidnap you or the rest of the women. That was never my intention.”
Several others began talking at once. This time Cutty ascended the nearest chair. “Please! I know I haven’t done much good around here …”
“Hold on a minute!” Grandma interrupted, and the crowd silenced. “Now, when you first got here you were a thorn in the side, that’s for sure. But look what’s happened since some of our men found you near-dead and dragged you back here. The man they brought into town wasn’t this Thackary Holmes character. It was Cutty.” She turned to the rest. “And I think you ought to stick with that name, if you can. A man’s got to identify with who he really is.” She turned back to him. “And Cutty is who you are now, isn’t it?”
Cutty’s lower lipped trembled. I will not bawl! he thought to himself. Grandma Waller had just said what he’d wanted to, but didn’t have the words for. “Yes ma’am,” he finally offered.
“That’s what I thought. Well, I know that other fella’s done some bad things, but I also know that Cutty’s made up for them and then some.” She turned to Sheriff Hughes. “I figure I don’t know anyone by the name of Thackary Holmes around here, do you?”
The sheriff’s eyes went wide. “Grandma!”
“Just answer the question, Harlan.”
Irene opened her mouth, snapped it shut, opened it again … and felt Wilfred put his arm around her. “If it wasn’t for him, Belle would be dead,” he said quietly.
She finally sighed and glared at Cutty. “Fine. But don’t think I’m going to give you any free licorice whips just because you saved my niece! Or because I’m gonna forgive you for letting me get kidnapped!”
“I would never have presumed it,” Cutty assured her. “Your reputation precedes you.”
“What? What reputation is that?” she snapped.
“That of a tough old battle-ax with a heart of gold,” he replied. “And I, for one, am honored to know you.”
Irene Dunnigan, for once in her life, was speechless.
“And you know,” Wilfred said hoarsely, “I guess we never did thank you proper for saving Belle.”
Now Cutty was unable to speak at this point – he could only nod and wipe his eyes.
One by one those that were gathered stepped forward to thank Cutty for all he’d done since coming to Clear Creek. Not one said a word about Thackary Holmes.
Except … “Deputy O’Hare!” Sheriff Hughes called. “You ever heard of a man named Thackary Holmes lurking around these parts?”
Bran looked at the crowd gathered around Cutty. “Lurking, ye say? Well … not recently.”
“Good. I don’t expect he’ll come sneaking around here again,” Sheriff Hughes said with a smile. “Now then … Cutty Holmes, are you going to marry Imogene or what?”
“Yes, sir, I am,” Cutty said, his voice almost a whisper. Cutty Holmes … that did have a nice ring to it, didn’t it?
Imogene grabbed him and kissed him on the cheek. “Did you hear that, people? We’re going to have a wedding!”
Cheers went up as Nettie joined them, planting a kiss on his other cheek. He turned to her, not bothering to stop his tears at this point. “Oh, Nettie …”
“Father,” she said. “I love you.”
Cutty choked, pulled himself out of Imogene’s arms and wrapped his around his daughter. Unable to help himself, he sobbed in her embrace.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the saloon. Which is why no one noticed the stage pulling into town, nor Willie come moseying in a few moments later. He took one look at the weeping crowd and yelped, “Great jumpin’ horny toads! Did somebody die?”
“No,” Harrison said. “On the contrary, we’re celebrating a brand new life.”
Epilogue
Three weeks later …
“I now pronounce you man and wife!” Preacher Jo said with a happy smile.
Cutty, decked out in the finest clothes the Cookes had been able to find in his size, turned to his bride and smiled from ear to scarred ear.
“Cutty … you may kiss your bride.”
Cutty lifted the veil from Imogene’s face. “You’re beautiful.”
“You’re stalling,” she said and kissed him.
The church erupted with cheers and laughter. The entire town had come, and not just them – the Whites, who lived between Clear Creek and Oregon City, were there too. Logan and Susara Kincaid were especially glad to see them, having spent time with the family during their own adventures a couple of years before.
“Why don’t ye kiss her now?” Patrick Mulligan shouted to Cutty.
“Yeah, show her how it’s done!” Sheriff Hughes agreed.
Before he could, Imogene smacked him over the head with her bouquet. “You’ll do nothing of the kind! You’re supposed to be a gentleman!”
“And you’re supposed to be a lady. Since when does a lady hit her groom like that?”
“I’m defending my point!”
“Then I should have the right to retort.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly.
Sheriff Hughes slapped himself on the leg. “Ha! You see, that’s how it’s done!” And the laughter filled the place again.
Then suddenly everyone went silent. Cutty caught the change and came up for air.
Everyone stood still as statues as Newton Whitman walked up the center aisle. “Am I late?”
Cutty almost dropped Imogene. She must have sensed it – she shifted her weight so he could let her go. “Newton?” he whispered.
“Yes, it’s me.”
Cutty looked him up and down. He looked to be in good health, albeit in need of a shave and a haircut, and the buckskins, gun and soft leather boots he wore weren’t really “Sunday best.” But most of all, his son looked … happy. “Newton … you’re back,” he said lamely.
“I sensed it was time to return. So, I did.”
Cutty exchanged a quick glance with Imogene, then smiled. “Just in time for my wedding.” He went to his son and pulled him into a hug. “Are you back for good?”
Newton slowly wrapped his arms around him and closed his eyes tight. When he opened them, he looked at Amon, who stood off to one side with Nettie. “Well, for as long as I’m able.” He saw Amon flinch, and pulled away from his father. “I had to come back.”
Cutty’s own eyes misted. “Can you … forgive me, then?”
He nodded. “Yes, I do forgive you. There’s more
to life than staying angry with someone. Besides, I’ve … got something to show you.”
Imogene joined them. “What?”
Newton smiled, turned and hurried back to the church doors. He went outside, then came back in … with a woman.
Everyone gasped. “Who in tarnation is that?” Grandma asked.
Newton took a deep breath as they approached Cutty. She was dressed in much the same thing as he, sans the gun belt, and her bright red hair flowed down to her waist.
“Newton?” Cutty squeaked as he looked her up and down. “Is this …?”
“Yes,” Newton replied.
“Yes who?” Irene Dunnigan snapped. “Who is she?”
Newton glanced around at the crowd, then looked at Cutty again. “Father … I’d like you and Imogene to be the first in Clear Creek to meet my wife.”
“Wife?!” Irene screeched
“Don’t swoon, Irene!” Wilfred ordered. She teetered a bit, but stayed upright.
“Wife?” Cutty repeated in surprise.
“Wieeeeeefe!” came a booming voice from the back of the church.
The entire throng turned to see Mr. Awahnee in the doorway, hands on hips, his wife at his side. No one had seen either of them since Amon finished building his house. Now here they were – and dressed in strange purple and yellow robes to boot!
Imogene gasped. “My heavens, will you look at that!”
The Awahnees strode down the aisle like royalty, stopping when they reached Newton. “You had best explain to your fadar where you have been, little bro-dar,” the man told him.
Newton’s eyes flicked to Amon again. “I was going to.”
“See dat you do,” Mr. Awahnee commanded. He looked at Cutty as everyone marveled at the sight of them. The Awahnees were both quite tall, their dark skin radiant even against the brightness of their clothing. “And you!” he bellowed as he leaned toward Cutty. “You will listen!”