The duchess should not have mentioned Jedidiah Tanner, and to say he was killed in a gunfight might give her away. Besides, she tried hard not to think of him these days. Not knowing what to say, she returned to her meal and did not answer.
It seemed pointless to question her further, so Daphne changed the subject. “I share the infirmity of a useless left hand with Kiser Wilhelm.”
At the mention of royalty, the duchess quickly brightened. “Truly? I was not aware he had an infirmity.”
“Oh, my yes. His happened at birth, but he has little more use of his hand than I have of mine.”
The opening was too good to pass up. At last, a chance to test her new friend’s knowledge of Europe’s society. “Have you met him?” the duchess asked.
“Unfortunately, I have not. I have had the good fortune of being in the same room with Czar Nicholas and the Czarina, although I was not formally introduced. What a lovely couple they are.”
“How exciting,” The duchess was about to ask another probing question when she glanced outside. “You must tell me all about it someday. I believe it is snowing. We best hurry to our rooms before we slip and slide and break our necks.”
*
Early March brought the promise of better weather and no one was happier to see it than the Whitfields. Gloria was able to visit more often in the afternoons, and Ben usually joined them for dinner. It helped, but it didn’t alleviate all of Abigail’s loneliness. She was so despondent on most days, she had not even considered redecorating the place. It was just as well. After all these years, the rooms had already been every conceivable color.
“Oh, but perhaps you and Ben could live with us,” said Abigail as soon as butler Johnston sat the silver tray on the table, and then finished serving their tea.
“Mother, we have a home and we are happy there.”
“I know. It is just that this place needs something to liven it up and…I miss you terribly.”
“You managed while I was away at school.”
“Yes, but then I thought I would have you back for a few more years, at least. Now you are married, and…”
Gloria skillfully brought up something else. “Tell me about the Easter Parade float. Have you decided what you want on it?”
Abigail brightened. “I have indeed. Claymore has asked one of the farmers if we may use his flatbed hay wagon, and the farmer has agreed. We shall hang cloth over the sides to hide the wheels, naturally, and…”
“You could let Provost MacGreagor play his…”
Abigail instantly reeled back. “Have you lost your wits? I’d not let that old goat anywhere near our float. If he wishes to play his screeching bagpipes, let him walk down the street like everyone else.”
“It was just a thought. The man is getting old, you know, and he would be pleased if you asked him to be part of raising funds for the orphans. It is the Easter Parade, after all, a time of forgiveness, you have always said.”
“But, Gloria, what do bagpipes have to do with orphans? His playing will scare off all the contributors.”
“Well then, let him ride and simply hold up a sign.”
Abigail was not terribly pleased with that idea either, but she gave in. “Very well, he can sit on the back and wave a flag or something.”
Gloria leaned over and hugged her mother. “You are a very good woman, you know. Shall you invite him, or shall I?”
“I am more than happy to let you have the pleasure. Now, I was thinking of a very large image of a starving child.”
“The grocery just got in a large shipment of individually wrapped Carmel candies. They are only twenty cents a pound. What if we let all the MacGreagor children ride on the float and throw candy to the other children?”
“What a splendid idea. With one on each side holding up signs urging people to donate to the orphans…but I was going to have the children collect the coins.”
“True, but I bet Blair and some of her friends might volunteer to do that part.”
“If Cameron will let Blair out of his sight. He has become monstrously overprotective of her.”
“In that case, we shall ask Mr. Cameron to walk with them.”
“Oh, I knew you would know what to do, Gloria. How would I ever get on without you?”
“Perhaps you could learn how to knit?”
“I know how to knit, but I can never manage to get the measurements right. One side is too long and the other too short. Besides, when I take up knitting or even mention that I might, a look of intense pain crosses your father’s face.”
Gloria tried unsuccessfully to hide her giggle. “What about crocheting doilies or tablecloths? Father cannot complain about that.”
“Alas, these eyes do not work well enough for the smallness of the stitches, but I thank you for the suggestions. I shall soon think of something to do… surely.”
Gloria reached over and touched her mother’s hand. “Perhaps you might make something out of crepe paper for the float.”
“That flimsy paper that comes in rolls?”
“And in many different colors. Perhaps you could make bows or flowers to put on the top of the wagon.”
Abigail gave that some thought. “Perhaps I could at that.”
*
A stiff breeze blew across the barren landscape between the Linder farm and the land Lillie Mae’s family owned in Peyton. Tumbleweeds rolled in the breeze, caught on something, broke free, and rolled still farther. Yet, the old Macintosh apple tree was beginning to add blossom buds to new leaves, and when a falcon flew across the sky, Earl Flood raised his pretend rifle and pulled the trigger.
“Missed,” Willis teased. He leaned down, picked up a small rock, and threw it as far as he could. It hit a tree stump and bounced off. “When are we leaving?”
“I have been thinking about that.”
“I think about it all the time. It is all I think about these days. If we do it, I am going to buy me a ranch right next to yours in Wyoming.”
“If we do it? Not losing your nerve, are you?”
“Me?” said Willis. “You know me better than that.”
Earl chuckled and then grew serious again. “The thing is, Lillie Mae knows who we are. If she sees us, we’re as good as caught. We need a reason for her to leave Marblestone and come home.”
“What reason?”
“That is what I’m trying to come up with. You got any suggestions?” Earl asked.
“Nope…well maybe. We could say her mom is bad sick.”
“She might believe it if you call, but what if she calls someone in town and they say we’re lying.”
“You’re right. That is just the kind of thing Lillie Mae would do.”
Earl glanced toward home, saw his father waving him over, and started that direction. “We will have to think of something…something that isn’t a lie.”
*
In Colorado, ample snowfall in the mountains promised a prosperous year for the farmers, which in turn, would heighten profits for the businesses in Colorado Springs. The days were mild, the nights were not as cold, and flocks of chirping birds greeted the MacGreagors and their staff each morning. Naturally, spring meant spring-cleaning, and there was plenty of that to do. Warmer clothes were put away and lighter ones brought out of storage. That meant extra laundry.
Furthermore, the flatbed wagon parked near the carriage house was being turned into a float for the Easter Parade. It was almost finished, and even Abigail was pleased with the decorations. She often searched the sky, anxious that it might rain and wilt the crepe paper bows and flowers.
When Butler Alistair got up from the dinner table in the servants dining room to answer the telephone, Lillie Mae thought nothing of it. Instead, she was thinking of having just one more biscuit to top off another scrumptious dinner.
“Lillie Mae?” Alistair asked.
“What?”
“The telephone is for you.”
She slowly turned to stare at him, and then pointed at herself. �
��Me?”
“Aye.”
That was not likely, but if Alistair said it was, who was she to argue? Hesitantly, she got up, took the earpiece he handed her, and talked into the wooden wall phone mouth-piece. “Hello?”
“Lillie Mae, you best come home right away.”
“Horace, is that you?”
“Your Pa done kilt himself.”
“Horace Colton, are you lying again?”
“I am not lying this time.”
“That is right, I remember now. You only lie when you do not like the sound of the truth. Put mother on.”
“She locked herself in her bedroom and will not come out. Come home, Lillie Mae, you are needed here.” With that, he hung up.
The sound of the loud click made her jerk the earpiece away from her ear and stare at it. At length, she hung up and when she turned around, everyone was watching her. “That was Horace Colton. He has been trying to marry me since I was ten. He is a terrible liar, always has been, but he might be telling the truth this time.”
“The truth about what?” Brookton asked.
“He says my father killed himself.”
Her offhanded remark caught everyone by surprise. “You best sit down?” Alistair said, getting up to catch her if she fainted.
“If it is all the same to you, Mr. Alistair, I best be on my way. It will take two days complete to get there as it is?”
“Where is home?” Cook Jessie asked.
“Peyton?”
“Peyton is not that far,” Connie offered.
“It is when you have to walk,” Lillie Mae said. “It is several long miles from there to here, and I suspect it is the same distance back.”
Any other time, the other servants would have laughed, but now was not the time. “You could take a train,” Connie suggested.
Brookton quickly spoke up, “If she had any money. She sends it all to her mother each month.”
“I can loan her the money,” said cook Halen.
“And I could add a bit more for extras,” said Butler Prescot.
“Truly?” Lillie Mae asked. “I will pay you back as soon as I get paid, I promise.”
Prescot was a little rattled at Lillie Mae’s lack of emotion, and wondered if she would break down before they could get her home. “Of course.”
“Then I shall just go pack my things.”
As soon as Lillie Mae was gone, Cook Halen said, “One of us should go with her.”
To everyone’s surprise, Brookton spoke up. “I shall go…with your permission, Mr. Prescot.”
“I think we can manage without you for a few days,” Prescot answered. “I shall ask Mr. Hannish if he will let Dugan take you to the station in the buggy.” Prescot left his dinner and hurried out of the kitchen.
*
Willis was surprised when Earl came riding up to the house. Earl’s father hardly ever let Earl ride one of the horses. Willis opened the screen door, went out, and let it slam behind him.
A woman inside the house shouted, “Willis, what did I tell you about letting that door slam?”
“Sorry, Mom.”
Earl smiled. For as long as he could remember, Willis always let the door slam. He dismounted and then waited for Willis to come around to his side of the horse, so his mother could not hear what they were talking about. “Jeb Flynn is dead.”
Willis chuckled. “He finally drink himself to death?”
“No, he got shot. Mr. Burns at the mercantile says Horace called Lillie Mae and she is coming home. It is time.”
Willis glanced at the house and then turned his attention back to Earl. “When are we leaving?”
“First light tomorrow morning. Meet me in town next to the mercantile and do not say a word to anyone.” With that, Earl mounted, turned his horse, and rode away.
“Shot?” Willis muttered. “Who shot him?” He lifted his hat, scratched his head, and then went inside to tell his mother. She was a good and kind woman, and Willis was going to miss her, so he hugged her before he gave her the news about Jeb Flynn. It was an unusual thing for him to do and she looked a little surprised, but she smiled and patted the side of his newly grown beard. “I do believe it makes you look older. I’m afraid you will always have a baby face, but the beard and mustache does make you look older.”
That afternoon, Willis was nervous and couldn’t seem to concentrate. He delivered the basket of food his mother made for the Flynns, paid his respects, and took his time walking home. That is when he ran into his other best friend, Pete Harris.
*
As planned, Dugan was set to drive Brookton and Lillie Mae to the train station in the MacGreagor buggy the next morning. They were running late because Lillie Mae insisted she get all of Blair’s clothes ready for the upcoming week. With everyone helping, that chore was finally completed. Satisfied, she handed her traveling bag to Brookton and walked out the door.
All the servants came outside, waved goodbye, and watched the buggy turn down the hill and go out of sight. After they went back inside, Butler Alistair drew in a heavy breath. “I must say I am relieved to see her go. ‘Tis unnatural not to cry when your father passes away, and she has shed not one tear.”
Butler Prescot nodded. “Perhaps she does not believe he is dead.”
“Or she is glad he is.”
“Do you suppose she will come back?” Prescot asked. “She is the eldest child and her mother might need her to stay.”
“Nay, she will come back. They likely need the wages she sends to her mother more than her help at home.”
“True.” Prescot started for the front door, and then opened it for his fellow butler. “Did you manage to slip some extra money in Brookton’s pocket before he left?”
“I did. He should be well set for any emergencies that might arise.”
“Good.”
CHAPTER 4
They were all set. At least that is what Earl Flood thought just before dawn, as he waited beside the mercantile in Peyton for his best friend, Willis. He preferred to think the horse he sat upon was borrowed rather than stolen, although he didn’t exactly have permission to take him. At any rate, the years of labor he’d put in on his father’s farm had to be worth something. Besides, the horse he took was old and about to drop dead anyway.
He expected them to be on their way by now, but there was still no sign of Willis. Earl was becoming more nervous by the minute. It wouldn’t be long now until his mother discovered a few things missing, such as his change of clothes, a water canteen, his blankets, two apples, and the aspirin he needed for the sudden headaches he was prone to have. After that, his father would find the horse missing and come looking for him.
Earl watched the elongated shadow of the mercantile appear, as the sun peeked over the horizon. Quietly leaving town was out of the question now. Where was Willis? If Willis was stupid enough to try to take their new breeding stallion, his father probably caught him. He didn’t think Willis was that stupid, but what else could it be?
At last, Earl heard the sound of far off horse racing down the dirt road toward town. Relieved, he peeked around the corner of the building only to sharply catch his breath. Willis was not alone. Instead, Pete Harris was with him and that was not a good thing. Willis liked Pete – Earl did not. Besides, they didn’t need a third man for what he had in mind.
Nonetheless, when they arrived, he signaled for them to follow him and galloped away. With all due haste, the three of them rode away from their little, lonely and forsaken town, leaving a cloud of dust behind them. The most direct route to Colorado Springs was beside the railroad tracks, so as soon as they were across the tracks, Earl turned that direction and slowed his horse to a trot. When he reached a junction, he turned down the road that led into the Black Forest. An hour later, he halted his horse and waited until the other two did the same.
Earl turned in his saddle to look back at a grinning Pete. “I’m surprised to see you. Where are you off to?”
Pete always was arrogant,
and he had no reason to change now. “Thought I might tag along and get some too.”
“Some what?” Earl asked.
“He knows,” Willis admitted.
Earl glared at his best friend. “I thought we agreed not to tell anyone.” Willis only shrugged. “You are willing to give him a third?” Earl asked, his glare even fiercer than it was before. “I thought you were smarter than that.”
Again, Willis shrugged. “We need three – two to go in and one to watch the backdoor in case someone tries to escape.”
“You could have talked to me about it first.”
Pete chuckled. “Too late now.”
Earl wanted to slap that silly grin off Pete’s face, but decided to ask a few questions first. “Did you bring a gun?”
“My pa does not hold with guns, remember?” Pete asked.
Earl turned his horse around. “Smart man. What about you, Willis?”
“I almost got caught taking the horse,” Willis admitted. “Maybe we can steal a couple of guns somewhere.”
“You cannot even steal a pie off of Mrs. Janson’s window sill without getting caught.”
“That was years ago,” Willis argued.
Earl found having the only gun somewhat comforting and wondered if he could shake Pete somehow. On the other hand, Pete could identify them and that was not good… not good at all. The best idea was to get it over with and then get as far away from the other two as possible. That was the best idea, but he had a sinking feeling he found impossible to ignore. Far too much could go wrong, especially with Pete along.
Pete Harris was two years younger than the other two, had no real purpose in life that Earl could see, and mostly just hung around the mercantile. His father was a miner, something his son refused to do, mainly because Pete had an aversion to hard work. Earl didn’t much respect anyone who wasn’t willing to work, and there wasn’t any reason to expect Pete to do much in the way of pulling off this robbery either. Maybe, just maybe, that would work in Earl’s favor. The best thing Pete could do was stay out of the way.
“How are we supposed to find this place?” Willis asked.
“Lillie Mae said it was between Colorado Springs and Manitou Springs,” Earl answered. “We will find it.” After the horses were rested, they rode to the middle of town, asked someone how to get to Manitou Springs, and then started up the hill toward Marblestone. Halfway up, Earl spotted a mansion. He led them into the woods where they dismounted, tied their horses to trees, and then crept the rest of the way up the hill. As long as they kept crouched down, the new growth on the vegetation was just high enough to hide them.
Marblestone Mansion, Book 10 Page 5
