One Bright Morning

by Duncan, Alice

  “And how much would you like, ma’am?”

  The question made her blush. She didn’t know. She’d never bought yardage before. Her aunt had doled out fabric by the inch when she was growing up, and Kenny had brought her lengths of cloth from Lincoln occasionally. She’d made all of Annie’s clothes out of left-over odds and ends she had at home.

  “I—I don’t know,” she stammered.

  The well-trained clerk didn’t look at all disconcerted at her innocent confession. Instead he just asked, “What do you intend to make out of it, ma’am?”

  “Well, I guess a dress for my little girl and me,” said Maggie.

  The clerk eyed her critically for a few seconds. “I think ten yards will provide enough for both of you. If you’d like more for sunbonnets, you can get twelve yards for a dollar.”

  Jubal was watching Maggie closely. He saw that she seemed terribly confused and realized she’d probably never done this before.

  “I think the twelve yards is a pretty good deal, Mrs. Bright,” he said thoughtfully in an attempt to rescue her. He was unprepared for the swift look of gratitude she shot him. It hadn’t occurred to him before how satisfying helping out Maggie Bright could be.

  “Yes. Thank you. I’ll take twelve yards.”

  “What about spool cotton?” asked the clerk.

  “Yes, please.”

  The clerk pulled a spool of thread from the shelf behind him. “Do you need cardboard for the bonnets?” he asked politely.

  Maggie’s mouth dropped open. She’d always stiffened her bonnet brims by stitching layers and layers of fabric together, quilting them until her fingers ached from the tiny needlework, and then starching them until they couldn’t have bent if they’d wanted to. The thought of putting cardboard into a bonnet’s brim to hold it stiff had never occurred to her. All at once she visualized how easy it would be to make a slatted bonnet with openings to slip strips of heavy cardboard in and out. Lord, that would make her life easier. She looked at the clerk shyly.

  “How much is the cardboard?” she asked very softly.

  Jubal wanted to curse and tell her he’d buy the damned cardboard. How much could cardboard cost? He held his tongue. Maggie couldn’t help her circumstances. She couldn’t possibly know that, all at once, just in the time he’d been standing with her here at this dry goods counter, one of Jubal’s major priorities in life had become seeing to her welfare.

  “Two cents,” said the clerk.

  Maggie smiled with relief. “I’ll take some, then,” she said happily.

  “Do you need edging? Lace? Ribbons? Buttons?”

  Maggie thought hard. She had lots of lace scraps she’d rescued from old dresses and bonnets. She wasn’t so sure about buttons, though. She wanted to make Annie’s dress out of a pattern she’d saved from a McCall’s, and it required a row of tiny buttons. The only buttons Maggie had were big and ugly.

  “I’d like some small white buttons, please, about twenty of them.”

  The clerk scanned his notions shelf for a moment or two. “Here you go, ma’am, they come on papers of twelve each, so here are two of them. Genuine pearl buttons.”

  The buttons winked at Maggie from the counter. They were shiny, pretty, and little, exactly what Maggie had hoped for. She beamed at the clerk.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” replied the clerk with a smile. “That will be one-twenty-seven, please, ma’am.”

  “Oh, yes.” Maggie was momentarily flustered. She glanced quickly at Jubal.

  “Will you please hold Annie for me, Mr. Green?” she asked bashfully.

  “Why don’t you just let me pay for this, Mrs. Bright?” Jubal asked gruffly. “It’s the least I can do.”

  Maggie looked positively shocked. “Oh, no, Mr. Green. I could never let you do that.”

  She thrust Annie into Jubal’s arms and opened the little bag that dangled from her wrist. Very carefully, she counted out the appropriate number of coins while Jubal held her daughter. He looked almost scared at having to carry the baby. Jubal couldn’t remember ever holding a baby before, not even Sara. He eyed Annie with misgiving.

  Annie smiled at him and reached for his nose. “Ho, Juba,” she said, and pulled his nose.

  Jubal laughed. “What are you doing with my nose, Annie?”

  “Juba’s nose,” affirmed Annie with a wise nod.

  “Yes, that’s Jubal’s nose, all right. And this is Annie’s nose.” Jubal pinched Annie’s nose, and the little girl giggled.

  The clerk handed Maggie her package of goods, carefully wrapped up in brown paper and tied with string, and Maggie felt very sophisticated when she turned toward Jubal again. When she discovered him engaged in a nose-pulling match with Annie, her big-city airs dropped from her shoulders with a laugh.

  “Here, Mr. Green, I’ll trade you.” She offered Jubal her package, and he gave her back Annie, and they began to wend their way through the rest of the mercantile.

  Maggie’s nose led her from the fabrics to the toiletries counter. The sweet smell of fancy Paris soaps, sachets, bottles of toilet water, talcums, bath oils, skin balms, lotions, hair tonics, and pomades drew her like a magnet.

  “Oh, my goodness, Mr. Green, I’ve never seen anything like this in all my life.”

  Jubal considered telling her he already knew that, but he restrained himself. He smiled as he watched her reverently walk up and down the aisle, her eyes wide and wondering at the vast selection of goods available for purchase. He noticed a little display of different toilet waters, and picked himself up a bottle of lilac fragrance. He wasn’t exactly sure when or how he would give it to her, but he knew he would.

  Maggie paused over a pretty display of hairbrushes. One in particular caught her eye. It was advertised to have come all the way from England. Its boar bristles were stiff, cream-colored, and new, and its wooden back was painted black and lacquered to a fare-thee-well. It was decorated with a pretty bouquet of flowers in pink, blue, and white on green stems, and Maggie thought she’d never seen anything so beautiful in her life. She picked it up very carefully.

  “Oh, look at this, Annie,” she breathed. “Isn’t it pretty.”

  “Pretty fowers,” Annie confirmed. She reached for the brush.

  “Better not touch it, Annie,” her mother said. “It’s not ours.”

  “Not ours,” Annie said, her little voice mimicking her mama’s regret.

  Maggie placed the brush back on the counter with great care.

  Jubal, strolling along behind Maggie and Annie, waited until they had turned down another aisle before he picked up the brush and tucked it under his arm along with the bottle of lilac toilet water. He felt silly all at once, hiding these things from the woman he intended to give them to.

  “Just about ready to go?”

  Dan walked up to Jubal and Maggie just as Maggie thought her head would start spinning if she stayed in the huge mercantile any longer.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Yeah,” said Jubal. “I’ve got one or two other things to see to. You go on out to the wagon.”

  Dan nodded and guided Maggie through the maze of merchandise and out to the wagon.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that in my life, Mr. Blue Gully,” Maggie whispered when they were out in the light of day once more.

  Dan grinned. “Garza’s takes some getting used to.”

  “I should say so.”

  Maggie began fanning herself as she peered around. It was hot again today. El Paso didn’t seem quite as hot as the bare desert had, but it was plenty warm enough to suit Maggie. There seemed to be a permanent pall of dust hanging a foot or so above the ground, stirred up by people and animals walking along the dry street. Maggie noticed a couple of little funnel clouds hovering in the distance, where the wind had whipped the loose dirt into dust devils.

  “It’s real dry here,” she ventured to Dan.

  “Yep,” he agreed. “It is that.”

 
Neither one of them saw Jubal step out of Garza’s, take one look at Maggie fanning herself with her flat hand, and turn himself right around and march back inside the mercantile. When he emerged again, he not only carried Maggie’s bundle of fabric, but a little paper packet of his own, as well as a pretty folding fan.

  “Here, Mrs. Bright, you’ll need this in this neck of the woods.” He shoved the fan into Maggie’s hand when he joined her and Dan beside the wagon. He then turned immediately and stuffed his packages inside the wagon.

  Maggie’s mouth dropped open and her eyes got big.

  “Oh, my, Mr. Green. I can’t—”

  “Yes you can,” snapped Jubal, interrupting her protest. “Now come along. We’re going to the seed store.”

  He grabbed Maggie’s arm and hauled her around and held onto her arm as he ate up the distance to the seed store. Maggie had to run to keep up.

  Dan watched them race off down the street with a big grin on his face. He followed them at a leisurely amble.

  “Thank you, Mr. Green,” Maggie panted when Jubal had yanked her inside the seed store and she could catch her breath long enough to speak.

  “You’re welcome,” Jubal grunted.

  Four Toes was already in the store. He’d been considering Maggie’s flower garden while she’d been mooning around the mercantile.

  “How about some dahlias and cosmos, Mrs. Bright?” was Four Toes’ greeting. “They’re pretty, and I think the colors will go together.” Four Toes was soberly contemplating the pretty illustrations on the flower advertisement printed up by the seed distributor.

  Maggie had been reverently inspecting her brand-new fan. It was made out of stiff paper, separated by tiny stick ribs, and folded up tight. The paper was white and it was decorated with bright flowers.

  She looked up at Four Toes’ words, though. “Flowers?” she whispered in wonder. “You’re buying flower seeds?”

  “Well, we never got your flower bed planted on your farm. Jubal’s got room for a dozen flower beds at his place.”

  “Oh, but, I can’t—”

  Jubal was feeling really, really touchy now, although he couldn’t have told anybody exactly why.

  “Will you stop saying you can’t do this and you can’t do that, Mrs. Bright?” he snapped at her. “We came in and tore up your whole life and then dragged you away from your home. The least we can do is make your stay at my place pleasant. You saved my life, for God’s sake. If you don’t think my life’s worth a few flower seeds, I sure do. If you want flowers, for God’s sake, shut up and buy some seeds.”

  Maggie’s mouth shut with a snap and her eyes dropped.

  Jubal felt like a big bully.

  “Thank you, Mr. Green and Mr. Smith,” Maggie said humbly.

  Four Toes had stared at Jubal with astonishment, as though his gruff outburst took him by surprise. But when he heard the quiver in Maggie’s voice, he turned his attention to her. With one last, puzzled glance at Jubal, he took her gently by the arm and led her over to look at the pretty flower poster.

  By the time they left the seed store, Maggie had forgot all about Jubal’s grumpiness. She and Four Toes had selected seeds that would, with any luck and a good deal of tender care, produce huge purple and pink dahlias, pink and white cosmos, and lavender and purple petunias. Maggie’s eyes were bright with excitement.

  Jubal watched her with satisfaction.

  “Annie, we’re going to have pretty flowers,” she told her daughter in a happy whisper.

  “Fowers pretty,” said Annie.

  “I can’t begin to thank you, Mr. Green,” Maggie said to Jubal shyly.

  Her eyes were positively shining at him. Jubal didn’t guess he needed more thanks than that, but her words suddenly gave him the excuse he’d been looking for to get her to accept his next surprise without arguing with him about it.

  “Yes, you can,” he said.

  Maggie sobered up in a second and looked at him with puzzlement. Oh, Lord. This was it. What she’d been waiting for. She knew it couldn’t be this easy, just go with him to El Paso and be taken care of.

  “I’ll do anything I can, Mr. Green,” she told him somberly. She expected him to demand that she cook and clean for them while she stayed on his ranch. She had expected to do that anyway, had meant to offer a long time ago, in fact, but had been distracted. “What would you like me to do?”

  “You can come with me,” Jubal said.

  “Why, certainly, I will. Where are we going?”

  “To get you some spectacles.” Jubal spoke the words as though he neither wanted nor expected any fuss from her.

  Maggie, whose head was swimming with all the new things she had seen today, not to mention the prospect of new clothes and a flower garden, was slow to comprehend his words. When she did, she stopped dead in her tracks, stunned.

  Jubal’s arm, the one that was healing, jerked painfully when she stopped so suddenly.

  “Ow!”

  “Spectacles?”

  “Spectacles.” Jubal let go of Maggie and rubbed his arm. It was throbbing like a son of a gun, and he wanted to swear but didn’t, out of deference to Maggie.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Green,” Maggie whispered softly. She reached out to rub his arm, too. Her touch sent a thrill through Jubal that surprised the hell out of him. “But—but you can’t mean to buy me spectacles.”

  “I can, too,” Jubal snarled. He didn’t trust that thrill he felt at her touch and jerked his arm away from it. That hurt it even more.

  “But that’s just too much, Mr. Green. Spectacles cost a lot of money. I—I can’t accept such a fine present.”

  But Jubal had been prepared for that.

  “Yes you can, Mrs. Bright. Your eyes are bad. There are people who want me dead, and because you helped me, they want you dead, too. If you can’t even see the stars at night, you sure as hell won’t be able to—to protect your daughter from somebody who wants to kill her. You’ll be in a new place in unfamiliar country, and the better your eyes are, the better you’ll be able to stay alive.”

  Maggie didn’t say anything for a moment. Her brain was whirling. Jubal’s words made sense to her, but it didn’t make any sense at all for him to pay for her eyeglasses.

  “I guess you’re right, Mr. Green,” she said at last.

  “You’re blamed right I am,” growled Jubal.

  Maggie took a deep breath. “But you still shouldn’t have to pay the expense for my spectacles. I have plenty of money since you gave me that reward money for Mr. Jack. I can pay for them.”

  Jubal scowled down at Maggie. He couldn’t figure out why she was so blamed irritating. She just insisted upon arguing with him every blessed time he wanted to do something for her. It annoyed the hell out of him.

  “Blast it, Mrs. Bright, will you quit fighting with me about it? I’m going to get you some eyeglasses, and I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

  He yanked on her arm again. Maggie didn’t want to make a scene on this public street, so she trotted along beside him. But she decided that, when the critical moment came and it was time to pay, she would reach into her own handbag and use her own money. She wouldn’t allow Jubal Green to pay for her spectacles. That was just too much largesse to accept in one day.

  Maggie was a little nervous about her eye exam since she’d never had her eyes tested before. She sat very straight in the examining chair and stared at Mr. Whitney with trepidation. He tried to put her at ease with the friendly banter he used with all of his patients, but this was too new to Maggie and she couldn’t relax.

  But when Mr. Whitney held up different combinations of lenses in front of her eyes and told her to read the big chart in front of her, Maggie was astonished at how much more clearly she could read the letters printed on the chart. She could hardly wait to look at the world through those lenses. She nearly cried with the wonder of it all.

  Jubal watched her in alarm. He recognized that misty-eyed look of hers. He held Annie on his lap during Magg
ie’s examination and hoped like the devil that she wouldn’t bust into tears.

  She didn’t, but she was very disappointed that she couldn’t simply wear her new spectacles home. Mr. Whitney kindly explained that it took time to grind the lenses and fit them into the frames, so it would be at least two weeks before she could take possession of them. Maggie was atingle with anticipation.

  She didn’t get the opportunity to put her payment scheme into operation at the end of her examination. Jubal had recognized that look in her eye, too, and forestalled her.

  Since both his mother and father wore spectacles, he had established a relationship with the eyeglass man in El Paso a long, long time ago. When the time came to pay, he merely told Mr. Whitney, “Send me a bill, Whitney.”

  Mr. Whitney said, “Sure thing, Mr. Green.”

  And Maggie was left to gape at the two of them in surprise. She certainly wasn’t about to fight with Jubal in front of the merchant so she waited until they were headed back to the wagon before she said anything.

  Then she told him firmly, “Mr. Green, when that bill comes, you give it to me and I’ll pay it.”

  It didn’t sound as though she planned to entertain any waffling on his part, so Jubal eyed her consideringly. “All right,” he finally said. He didn’t guess the gods would get him for one little fib.

  Maggie continued to stare at him in concern for a second or two, but she didn’t guess there was much she could do about it right now. She decided she’d just be sure to watch the mail. Of course, she had no way of knowing that somebody from the ranch had to ride to town to pick up the mail.

  Maggie had expected to start out for Jubal’s spread as soon as they left the optician, but Jubal had another idea in mind.

  “It’s been a long time since we’ve been to city, Mrs. Bright. Dan and Four Toes want to visit friends and relax for a few hours before we get on back to the ranch. And I want to do some scouting around.”

  “Scouting around?”

  “Yeah. I don’t think Mulrooney knows we’ve left for Texas yet, but if he does, chances are I’ll be able to find out if I talk to a few people I know in town.”