Changing Seasons

by Christine Sterling

  “He’s gone.”

  “I don’t understand,” Lacy Lou said. Mr. Garrison had stopped by the clinic to speak to her and drop off a key to Marty’s cottage in the woods.

  “He wanted to give this to you.” Mr. Garrison scratched his head. “I guess he knew you needed somewhere to stay, so he left instructions with me that the cottage was yours as long as you lived there, or at least until he came back to town.”

  “Is he coming back?” she asked.

  “I honestly don’t know. Taxes have been paid for the next ten years. He gave me instructions that at the end of ten years, if he hasn’t returned to sell the property.”

  Lacy Lou reluctantly accepted the key and moved from the apartment over the new tea shop to the cottage.

  She was surrounded by Marty and her memories. He left everything, only taking a few clothes from the closet.

  The first night there she cried her eyes out. She wondered if he would ever return. The crazy part was, she felt as though she was home.

  June 1905, Somewhere in Arizona

  When Marty left the prison, the only thing he had were the clothes on his back, a new pair of shoes and three dollars. The three dollars was to buy him a stagecoach ticket out of Arizona.

  The closest town was about a five mile walk in the hot dessert sun. That explained why he and the other men were released early in the morning. It allowed them to get to town before the sun was high in the sky.

  Marty wasn’t ready to return to Silverpines just yet, but he needed to let Luther Garrison know he was coming back. He spent forty-five cents of that three dollars and sent a telegram.

  Another fifteen cents was spent on a steak dinner at the desert town’s restaurant, which Marty promptly brought back up shortly after eating. His body wasn’t used to such rich food.

  Since his prison diet for the past three years was rather plain, he would need to be more careful about what he ate until he was used to heavier foods.

  He slept that night in a livery stable, surrounded by horses. He found the scent of the hay, leather and horses comforting. He wondered if Lacy Lou still had Sugar. He left his horse behind when he caught the stage out of town.

  The next afternoon, Marty stopped by the mercantile. He had been all over the small town that morning, looking for work, but no one was interested in hiring him.

  As Marty entered the store, he noticed an older gentleman gathering up items from the dry goods display. Marty nodded, but kept moving towards the counter.

  “Good afternoon, stranger,” the shop keeper said, as Marty approached him.

  “I was wondering where I could find the stagecoach ticket office.”

  “You can get your tickets here.”

  “How far can I go for $2?” Marty asked.

  The shopkeeper pulled out a paper and laid it on the counter. “That would take you to Phoenix. About 140 miles away.”

  Marty thought for a moment. “I really need to get to Oregon.”

  The shop keeper ran his finger down the page and stopped about half way down. “What part of Oregon?”

  “Silverpines or New Harbor.” Marty knew if he could get to New Harbor, he could get a ride with Dawson Elliot when he came to the seaside town on one of his weekly supply runs.

  The man tapped the paper again. “Looks like it is seven dollars to New Harbor. Add another fifty cents for Silverpines.”

  Marty fingered the money he had left in his pocket. He had nowhere near enough to get home. He looked at the man. “Do you know where I might be able to find work? At least for a short while?”

  “Son,” the man replied. “I can tell you aren’t from around here, so my guess is you were just released.” He placed the schedule and fare chart under the counter. “Folks don’t take too kindly to prisoners hanging around, if you hear what I’m saying. I’d just get your ticket to Phoenix and be on your way.”

  “Thanks anyway,” Marty said and turned to leave the store.

  “Cabarker,” the man at the dry goods display said to him.

  “Excuse me?” Marty asked.

  “Cabarker. About forty miles from here. First City in California. Would get you closer to Oregon.”

  “What’s in Cabarker?”

  “Mostly farming, but lots of places there for work. Brothels. Saloons. They don’t care too much who comes through the town as long as they spend money. Always need workers as most folks just stay until they make a little money and move on.” The man put a few items on the counter. “I’ll take these and ten cents worth of that dried beef,” he said pointing to the display behind the counter.

  “How much to get to Cabarker?” Marty asked the man behind the counter.

  The shop keeper added the dried beef to the customer’s pile. “Cabarker is $1.10.”

  “Okay, I guess I’ll take a ticket there,” Marty said turning to the man who was adding a few more items to his pile. “If you are sure there is work there.”

  The man raised his hand. “There is always work at the Imperial. That’s one of those fancy show places.”

  “Thanks, old man,” Marty said. Before he could pull his money out for the ticket, the man stopped him, placing a gnarled hand on Marty’s arm.

  “You look like a strong young man. I’ll give you a ride if you help me unload my wagon when we get there.”

  “You are headed to Cabarker?”

  The man nodded. “Have a delivery to make to one of the farms there.”

  “That would be great, sir.” Marty held out his hand. “Name’s Marty Gale.”

  The old man looked at the hand stretched out. He gave it a quick pump before releasing it. “Call me Copper.”

  “That’s three dollars and eighteen cents, Copper,” the shop keeper said. “Just add it to your bill?”

  “Thanks, Henry. I’ll settle up as soon as I get back.” While the shop keeper boxed up the items Copper turned back to Marty. “You’ll need to get yourself a hat. The sun is mighty fierce until we get there.”

  Marty went to pick up a hat from the display near the front of the door. He lost his favorite black Stetson in a bar fight. He could still see the man falling to the floor once Marty swung at him. Marty shook off the memory. Some things he just didn’t want to remember. He picked up a gray Stetson with a leather band around the crown.

  “I’ll take this,” he said, putting it down on the counter.

  “You’ll also need a canteen. You can fill it by the pump in the alley,” Copper said. Marty added that to the pile. “Might wanna get yourself something to eat too. It will take all day to get there and there ain’t no stops between here and there.”

  Marty nodded. “I’ll take a nickel’s worth of crackers, a nickel of that dried beef,” he said, pointing to the jar. Marty looked around the store. “And how about three apples from the barrel?”

  “You want to pick them out, or shall I, son?” the shop keeper added.

  “I can grab them.” He brought the apples up to the counter and the man placed all his items in a paper sack. “That will be sixty-five cents.”

  Marty handed him a paper bill and pocketed the change.

  “Let’s go,” Copper said. “I can’t be waiting all day.”

  Marty followed him out front to where a wagon was sitting. There was a brown and white horse hitched to the wagon and a second one tied to the back.

  He quickly filled the canteen with cool water from the pump. He took a long drink and then refilled the canteen before capping it. He lifted the shoulder strap over his head and allowed the canteen to fall next to his hip.

  “Why two horses?” Marty asked.

  “When the sun gets high in the sky, it is hard on the animal pulling the wagon. So, I switch them out every two hours. Part of the reason I leave later too. We’ll be in Cabarker after dark.”

  Marty watched as Copper put his box on the edge of the wagon. He lifted a blanket and slid the box underneath, taking out his bag of dried beef before moving back up front.

  Marty could
see a bucket and water barrel sitting in the wagon bed. Everything else was covered under those blankets.

  “What are you taking out there?” Marty asked.

  “You always ask a lot of questions?” Copper asked.

  “I didn’t mean to pry,” Marty said.

  “Never you mind what’s under there. Just get yourself up and ready to go.”

  Marty placed the bag under the wagon bench and scrambled up on the seat. Copper did the same and sat down next to Marty.

  Marty could understand why Copper told him to get a hat. He wasn’t sure if spending fifty cents of his money on a hat was a wise purchase, but he was grateful he had.

  He had two apples and a piece of dried beef for dinner. They sat in his belly better than steak the night before. He offered the third apple to Copper, who gratefully accepted it.

  They made small talk on the ride over. The air became cooler as the sun went down. Marty shivered, so Copper reached behind and handed him a blanket.

  “Thanks,” Marty said, taking the blanket from him.

  “How long were you in there?” Copper finally asked.

  “Four years.”

  “Most men don’t come out of there alive. Either the work, the heat or the snakes get them.”

  Marty remembered the snake den. He had seen several men go in there, only to be carried out in linen bags at the end of their isolation.

  “It is a rough place to be. I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone.”

  “May I ask what you were in there for? I mean it is a little too late now, but if you are a murderer, I’d like to know what my chances are for getting to Cabarker alive.”

  Marty laughed. It was the first time he had laughed in nearly three years. “You don’t have anything to worry about. I just want to get to Cabarker, earn a few bucks, so I can make it home.”

  “You got a girl there?”

  “I did.” But he realized Lacy Lou was never truly his. And she never would be when she realized what he had done.

  Marty Gale was a murderer.

  Chapter 7

  September 1905

  Five years. Next month would mark five years. Five years since she had seen him. The look on his face when she turned down his engagement still haunted her. If she was to ever marry someone, it was going to be for love; not for the busybodies in town to keep their sentiments to themselves.

  He walked out of her life the next day.

  There were rumors that he may have been spotted in New Mexico, but after that he disappeared. She often wondered what happened to him.

  She looked around the cabin. It certainly looked different than when Mrs. Gale and Marty lived here. The inside had been painted with fresh paint. She purchased new furniture from the Montgomery Ward’s catalog at the mercantile. There were wildflowers growing around the house. They invited the deer and rabbits that Lacy Lou would watch from the kitchen window.

  She had put in a small garden. It was just enough to feed her. There were even two apple trees that she brought down from the mountain as seedlings and planted in the yard. They had given her fruit for the past two years.

  The bedrooms were very simple and non-cluttered. Marty had collected a variety of different items. Fishing lures, books, old tin cans littered the floor of his room.

  Lacy Lou packed up all his clothes and put them in the attic. Everything else she burned as trash or gave to the outreach program at the church. There was one photo of Marty that was taken by a journalist who came to report on the earthquakes that changed everyone’s lives.

  It was taken of him sitting on one of the barrels outside the saloon. Hattie was standing against the railing. He looked so young as she traced her fingers over his face.

  If she could turn back time, she would definitely have done things differently. She would have grasped what was right in front of her with both hands and never let go.

  She missed Marty more than she ever thought possible. Since he left, she had the opportunity to be courted by some of the new doctors that came to town. But as soon as they heard of her past, they wanted nothing more to do with her. She would hear the other nurses whispering when she walked by. As soon as they saw her, they would stop their gossiping and try to look busy.

  When she finally thought she had put the past behind her, someone would bring it up again. It was a wonder she even left the confines of the small cottage.

  She looked at her watch. Her shift started at the hospital in the next hour. She gathered her things, placing them in a bag and went out to the barn. There she stored her prized possession, next to Marty’s horse, Sugar.

  She tossed her bag onto the seat and ran around front to give the automobile a crank. It turned over immediately.

  It was the one thing she splurged on. Since she didn’t have to pay rent or anything, she was able to save money away and purchase the Franklin Model A. It took her two years to save enough money to buy it.

  She had just pulled into the dirt lot next to the hospital and was heading inside when she saw Mr. Garrison wave her down.

  “I need to chat with you, Miss Miller,” he said, quickly walking over the packed dirt.

  Lacy Lou looked at her watch. “I need to get inside and start my shift. Is there any way I can stop by and see you on my way home?”

  Mr. Garrison looked at her. “That will be fine. But this is important, so please be sure to stop by.”

  “I promise,” she said. “I really need to go.”

  She ran inside the hospital to the room where she placed her belonging inside a locked box. She took a quick look in the mirror and smoothed her skirt where it was wrinkled from the car ride.

  She grabbed one of the white aprons from a peg on the wall and covered her dress. It was a muted blue poplin with large sleeves and a trim waist.

  “Nurse Miller, nice to see you today.” Lacy Lou turned to see the evening nurse supervisor coming into the changing room. There were more than twenty nurses that worked at the hospital. Six new doctors had come to Silverpines in the last three years to join Doc Childs at the sanitorium.

  “Good morning, Nurse Parker,” Lacy Lou replied, as she quickly fixed her hair that was falling out of its pins. She hastily re-pinned it and covered the mess with her nursing cap. “Was everything alright over night?”

  Nurse Parker sat down on one of the benches and lifted her leg to rub her ankle. “Dr. Harrison was in a mood. Best avoid that one this morning.”

  “Duly noted,” Lacy Lou responded. Dr. Harrison was a young doctor with a quick temper. Lacy Lou thought he should work on his bedside manner. More than once he had left a patient in tears, berating them for allow themselves to get sick.

  The door opened again and several other women in the same uniform as Lacy Lou and Nurse Parker entered the room. The shift change had begun. Lacy Lou scrambled out of the room and down the hall, hoping to make it before Nurse Stanton saw her.

  Nurse Stanton was looking at a board with notes attached to it, so Lacy Lou could slip in with the other nurses on the day shift. If she thought she wouldn’t be caught she was sorely mistaken.

  “So glad you found time to join us today, Nurse Miller,” Nurse Stanton said, not taking her eyes from the paper in front of her.

  “I apologize, nurse. It won’t happen again.”

  Nurse Stanton turned and looked at her, the corners of her mouth in a frown. Lacy Lou thought she looked like she had just eaten a lemon. Not that Lacy Lou would tell her that.

  “Patients don’t wait, Nurse Miller. Remember that.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Lacy Lou replied. She turned to see Kelly, one of the other nurses roll her eyes.

  Nurse Stanton turned on her heel and walked by them towards the patient wing. She reminded Lacy Lou of a soldier. Her movements were deliberate and precise. There was no room for error where Nurse Stanton was concerned.

  Lacy Lou fell in line and followed the group of nurses down the hall. She wondered how many patients she would have today.

  Twelve. She
had twelve patients.

  Her day was filled with administering medicine, checking vitals, changing bedpans, feeding the patients that needed it, reading letters, cleaning instruments and she assisted in one surgery.

  By the time she left the hospital for home Lacy Lou was exhausted. Being on her feet all day helping patients was rewarding, but oh, did it make her feet hurt. She couldn’t wait to get home and take her shoes off.

  As she walked to the parking lot, she remembered she needed to stop by and see Mr. Garrison.

  She gave a groan and drove to his office towards the center of town. When she arrived, she went inside and sat on one of the lush leather chairs in his office.

  He came out, hearing the bell ring when she pushed the door against it.

  “Miss Miller, please come in. May I get you something to drink?”

  “No thank you,” Lacy Lou said. “I need to get home, so if you can just tell me what this is all about, I can get on my way.”

  Mr. Garrison sat on the corner of the desk and looked at her. His leg was casually draped over the side, with the other one holding him up.

  “I don’t know any other way to say this, so I’ll just come out and tell you.”

  Lacy Lou wasn’t sure what to expect. Was it bad news? Had someone been hurt?

  “What is it?” she asked after an awkward pause.

  “Marty Gale is coming home.”

  Chapter 8

  November 1905, Cabarker, California

  Marty’s fingers flew over the keys. He watched as men and women shoved money in the jar next to his piano. The faster he played; the more money appeared. Money that would take him back home to Silverpines.

  He had been in Cabarker for nearly five months. He had saved up over forty dollars! He was making more money now at the saloons and theater than he ever did hauling supplies for Miss Hattie.

  Marty made a promise that once he hit fifty dollars saved, he would head back to Silverpines. He should hit that amount tonight or the next.

  Marty looked out at the crowd milling around the saloon. He had never been in a saloon that catered to both men and women. He never stepped foot inside Miss Flora’s saloon, making his deliveries by the back door. It didn’t count after the earthquake. The building was an infirmary then, not a saloon!