Miss Thorne Blossoms

by Jordan Bollinger

  "That's all right," Gus insisted. "I like to believe that's how our community has grown so strong and united—we help each other out—because, at some point, everyone needs help. The best way to pay me back is to promise to do whatever you can to help someone else sometime in the future."

  "Absolutely," Stratton assured him, as he sat.

  "Now," Meg said, looking at Victoria, "what's going on?"

  "Well, we have several things we want to discuss. However, I suppose I should start with my news. I've been evicted. Or, at least, I will be, come the end of October."

  Gus frowned, and shaking his, added, "That can't be right. I'm sure Cooper had a long term lease—five years, or so."

  "Well," Dr. Thorne answered, "apparently, he does – or, rather—did. It's supposed to be another two and a half years—give or take. But, the new owner claims that he has no agreement with Mark Cooper or me. He wants me out. I have until November first only because Mark prepaid for almost a full year before he left town last fall."

  Scowling, Gus said, "Let me guess...the new owner's name is Brumbell?"

  "Yes, but how did you know?"

  "Although I've never met the man, I've been having troubles of my own with him, ever since he arrived in town. Never have I had difficulties with my workers—until he took over the running of the saloon."

  "Ah..." Victoria said, with a sigh. "That brings us to a second reason for our meeting. I have a room at the hotel, because I expected it to be noisy and didn't want to be across the street from it."

  She looked over at Neil, encouraging him to pick up the story.

  So he did, "I've been staying there. And it's not only noisy, it's raucous. I thought I heard a scream one night, but didn't see or hear anything else. And, I've been listening. However, the girl, Kit, can't stay there anymore. I've told Dr. Thorne I'd be worried for her safety."

  "Actually, Meg's spoken to me about that. For some reason," he said, smiling at Margaret, "she won't accept the idea that her quarters are just that—her quarters. And, she may have whomever she pleases there with her."

  "Because, in the end, it is your building," Meg said, stressing the word. "And, I wanted to make sure that Eva was all right with Kit staying on a more...ah...permanent basis."

  "Yes," the doctor said, "I'm grateful for you taking her in. After meeting Mr. Brumbell, I would take her to the hotel with me, before I allowed her to stay there alone."

  "What's he like?" Gus asked, in a low voice.

  "He's horrible," Dr. Thorne said. "I know I shouldn't judge people, but he's dreadful. And, I'm so glad that I wasn't alone when he burst in. He's an awful bully and frightens me."

  "Why? What happened?" Gunderson asked.

  Stratton spoke before Victoria had a chance to answer, "He barged in and spoke in a loud, menacing way. I came downstairs in time to hear him threaten the doctor."

  "What?" Meg said, in a shocked, disbelieving voice.

  "He made an extremely thin veiled threat about how she might be out before November first. I believe he said something like, 'Who knows what might happen before then.'"

  "Really?" Gus said. "Maybe we need to talk to Frank Dunkirk about this."

  "Oh, no," Victoria sighed, "please don't. I'm sure it was my speaking to the sheriff the other morning that made Brumbell so angry."

  "Does anyone else find it interesting," Gus began, "that Brumbell shows up and we find that poor girl? I mean, they did arrive in close proximity to each other."

  "But, by that same logic," Neil argued, "You could accuse me of being responsible for the dead girl, since I’ve only been in Manchester a little while."

  "And, the same might be said about me, as well," Victoria said.

  Meg looked at Stratton and the doctor, smiled and said, "No one who's met either of you—spoken to you—could believe that."

  Neil eyed her critically, before he answered, "While I appreciate your confident and positive assessment of me, not all villains look like monsters."

  "Yes," Margaret said, "Of course, you're right."

  "Well," Gus recapped, "None of us like Brumbell. And the doctor needs to find a new location for her surgery. Anything else?"

  "As a matter of fact," Neil began, "It looks as if I won't be able to get any crops planted this year. And, I'm not at all sure I'd be a good—or even adequate—farmer. So, I was wondering if you know of anyone who might be interested in buying my cow and chickens."

  "Is the cow giving milk?" Gus asked.

  "Yes."

  "You shouldn't have any trouble at all selling it, or your chickens. But what are you going to do?"

  "My father was a carpenter. I thought—or rather, the doctor thought—I might try my hand at that."

  "I see. Well, the town's growing every day. Good carpenters are a welcome addition to the population. But, won't you want the milk and eggs your animals would provide?"

  "No, because I won't be going back to the farm."

  "You see, Neil is going to stay upstairs over the surgery, even after his hand is healed. I don't want to come in one morning and find everything destroyed. I'm hoping that Mr. Stratton's presence will serve as an adequate deterrent to any...ah...mishaps or mischief."

  "That's probably a very wise idea," Gus said. "So, you won't be living at your place?" he asked, as he turned to Stratton.

  "No."

  "Would you consider renting it? Or, even selling it?"

  "Well...maybe. Why?"

  "I have a hand who has been courting a girl for a year or so. He works with my cattle, but he's always wanted to try his hand at farming. He's afraid the ranching means being out on the range a lot and thinks that by farming, he can better provide for a wife—when he gets married. He might be interested in renting your place, and see how he fairs."

  "But," Neil protested, "he'll be almost as late in planting as I would be if I farmed once the doctor eventually releases me."

  "First, if you want to farm your land—this year," Gunderson told him, "we'll get your fields planted. I have the men and equipment to get the job done in one day. Now, does that make you rethink any of your plans?"

  Shaking his head, Stratton answered, "No. If my wife and baby had lived, I would have given farming a good try. But, it was to make a home for her and our family. Since I've actually had time to consider everything, I see I wasn't doing it for me—that I really have no true desire to be a farmer. So, I'd rather try my hand at something else—something I actually know about. And, carpentry is that something."

  "Well, what if I have Jonah take Daniel with him one evening soon? That would give the young man a chance to take care of the animals, as well as, plenty of time to look around the place. And, he'll be able to talk things over with Jonah should he feel the need. Then, if he likes the place, he can talk to his girl. And, if she agrees, he can approach her father. How does that sound?"

  "Sounds like a fine plan."

  "Excellent!" Gus said, grinning. "Then, if everyone is in agreement, I'll take you out there, and you can tell him what will go with the property and what won't, and whether you want to sell outright, rent it to him, or rent it to him with the understanding that he's buying it."

  "All right, what's next?" Meg asked as she perused her menu.

  "Does anyone," Victoria said, staring at Gus and smiling, "have any ideas about where I can move the surgery to? I expect whenever I go I'll need to make repairs and renovations, so I don't want to put things off. And, in truth, I'd like to be out of that man's building as soon as possible."

  "Well, there are one or two empty storefronts along the main street," Gus told them. "However, while I couldn't say for sure," he continued, "I bet you anything, Brumbell will own them, as well."

  "Why am I not surprised?" Victoria sighed. "What about empty lots? Perhaps, I could buy a lot and build?"

  Gus shook his head, "Not that I know of."

  "Wait!" Meg said. "Miranda owns a lot. It's leased out. She told me her father leased it to someone—a while ago. So
mething about his planning on building a restaurant, but once they built the hotel, he abandoned the idea. But, I think there is still a year or so to go on the long-term lease."

  "Well, maybe we could contact the lessee. After all, he's not doing anything with it."

  "How can I find out? How soon can I hope to get the property?" Dr. Thorne exclaimed.

  "Whoa..." Gus said. "First—and I truly hope you know I'm not saying this as an insult—I don't think either you or Miranda should contact the man. If he's who I think he is, he won't want to deal with Miranda, even though she's now the legal owner, let alone a woman doctor. I'll run out to the Hendriksen place and find out if Miranda is willing to sell, or even lease the property to you. Then, if she is, I'll contact the man. If he's who I think he is, he lives in Chicago, so I'll have to send him a telegram."

  "You can't expect to solve all of everyone's problems, can you, Gus?" Neil asked, smiling.

  Meg let out a low, long laugh. "Oh, but he can. I don't believe there's anything he can't fix."

  Gus turned and gave Margaret a little smile, but then said, "No, I can't fix everything, but that doesn't stop me from trying."

  Chapter Twelve

  Gus and Neil pulled up in a wagon to find a man and a young woman coming from the barn.

  "Oh, Mr. Gunderson," the girl squealed, "is it true? Is it true that Daniel can buy this place?"

  "Well, the details need to be worked out. But yes, I do believe it's true...Alice, is it?"

  "Mr. Stratton," the man began, "are you sure you want to sell? It's a nice place. I mean, you are absolutely sure?"

  "If you want it, sir, you can buy it. Or," Neil said, "you can rent it and see if you want it. I'm even willing to rent it to you with the understanding that you're buying it. I'm sure that Mr. Gunderson will work out all the details so that everyone is happy. There's a cow and some chickens, and some other things—a bit of furniture, and perhaps some kitchen items.

  "I'm planning on taking my clothes, books, and a few other personal items; a minimum of kitchen utensils, and the bedroom suite. However, although I haven't spoken to Dr. Thorne—I believe she will let me swap the bed I'm using now for it. If she isn't willing, I'm sure she'll sell it to me. So, there will be a bed here—just not that bed. My father made that set for my mother as her wedding gift. And, I'll be keeping my horse and wagon."

  Gus gestured for Stratton to get back onto the wagon seat, smiled at the happy couple, and said, "We'll leave you two alone—to look around more. But, don't stay too long. We don't want Alice's father to come looking for you."

  Then he jumped onto the bench seat, gathered up the reins, and drove away—leaving the soon-to-be-marrieds exploring the property and chattering excitedly about their future together.

  "They seem like a nice couple," Neil said, as they traveled down the rutted dirt road towards town.

  "They are," Gus answered. "Daniel's a good worker, and he'll be sorely missed. But, he's been wanting his own place. And Alice is a good and patient girl. Not everyone would wait for more than a year, while their intended earned more money for their future."

  He looked at the younger man and asked, "So how much of what happened between the good doctor and Brumbell did she leave out? If she's anything like Margaret, I'm sure that there was a bit of editing in the story she told us."

  "Actually," Neil told him, "she was pretty dead on..."

  "But?"

  "Well, when I popped out of the stairway, he looked me up and down and then leered at her. As if there was some sort improper relationship between us."

  "Really?" Gus drew up the reins and brought the wagon to a stop. However, instead of saying anything else, he just stared off into space.

  Finally, Neil asked, "What? What are you pondering?"

  "Perhaps nothing," Gus answered, "it's just that over the years I've come to realize that people often accuse others of what they, themselves, are guilty of."

  "I don't quite understand."

  "I've discovered that if one of my ranch hands suggests another is taking things that don't belong to them, he's the one who's doing the pilfering. Or, someone who accuses another of drinking, is the one with the problem."

  "Oh..." Neil acknowledged. Then he went quiet.

  *****

  "Oh good," Dr. Thorne said, as she turned at the sound of the opening door, smiled at Neil, and added, "I want to change your bandages this afternoon."

  "Well, I'm back now," he said. "I hope I didn't misspeak, but I promised the couple there would be a bed left—among some other things—in the house. But, my father and uncle made the bed, in fact the entire bedroom suite, and I don't want to leave it. I thought I could bring my things here, and replace them with the things upstairs. Don't misunderstand me. I'll pay for them. I...I spoke before I thought it through, but I didn't think you care about anything up there."

  "I truly don't," Victoria exclaimed. "You don't owe me anything. It's just... I feel badly about having them foisted off on this young couple."

  "Well, they seem like a sensible and deserving couple. They'll appreciate anything they're given and pass them on to others, when they, themselves, no longer need them."

  "Tea or coffee?" the doctor asked Neil, with a smile.

  "Tea," he answered. Then he added, "But don't tell anyone. I wouldn't want the idea I'm a tea drinker to get around."

  "I can't believe a man a sensible as you are would say such a foolish thing. After all," Dr. Thorne said, "Gus Gunderson is fond of tea, as well."

  "Now, how would you know that?"

  "Meg told me."

  "Well, since Miss Meg would never ever exaggerate about such things, I suppose I've nothing to worry about," he quipped. "Since he is the town's most manly man."

  "Oh, I hadn't realized that." She let out a soft, low laugh, and said, "Come on, let me look at your wound."

  Stratton yielded to her request, thrust his arm out, and watched as she carefully unwound the bandaging. The original stitches dotting his skin were pink and puckered the length of the wound. The last few stitches—the ones she'd removed a few days before so she could clean out one end of the cut, and then stitched it again—looked nearly as well healed.

  She smiled as she wrapped a fresh dressing around his hand. Then, although she left the sling hanging around his neck, she didn't put his arm through it.

  Instead, she placed her hand is his good hand and said, "Squeeze my hand. Don't see how hard you can squeeze. Just a nice, firm squeeze." After he'd obliged, she switched, so he held her hand with his injured one, and said, "Now, again, please."

  She smiled and added, "Very good. The injured hand is a bit weaker, but I don't find a significant difference."

  Then, she handed him a ball of wool yarn, about three and a half or four inches in diameter. "I want you to squeeze this when you're reading, or just sitting on the back porch daydreaming. Again, not as hard as you can, just firmly. It will help rebuild your flexibility. But, slip the arm in the sling when you feel tired. All right?"

  "Yes, ma'am," Neil said, grinning at her.

  *****

  Neil woke up, sat up straight in bed, and listened. He was sure he hadn't dreamt the scream this time. He stood up and dragged the chair over to the window and sat, hidden in the darkness and looked out.

  The saloon appeared closed for the night, because the windows were shuttered and no lines of light shone behind them. But he continued to sit and watch behind the muslin curtains, at it and the street below.

  He was just about to go back to bed, when a man slipped out of the alley beside the saloon and walked down the street. Neil watched him as he passed below the window. He was a perfectly ordinary man. The thing was he moved from shadow to shadow, as if he didn't want to be observed.

  However, Stratton let it go. The man probably washed glasses or swept the floors. Perhaps, he wasn't able to support himself or his family by just what he earned in his day job or on his farm. And, working in a saloon wasn't something he was proud
of or wanted generally known.

  Still...Neil was sure he'd actually heard a scream, this time.

  Chapter Thirteen

  "Well," Gus began speaking, even before he reached their table in the back corner of the hotel restaurant, "I heard from Miranda's man. And he's more than willing to be released from his lease...for a small stipend."

  "What?" Victoria exclaimed.

  "Why should he expect to be paid—no matter how small a sum—to release him from his financial obligations?" Meg asked.

  "Because, he realizes someone wants to use the property and he intends to take advantage of it."

  "But, Gus," Meg argued, "Miranda needs that money. I don't think she has any real assets, other than that piece of property and the farm. She can't afford to lose the five—or even two—years of rent he owes. Even if Victoria does buy the property."

  The doctor merely sighed, as if the mere thought of buying property and building her surgery and residence made her feel happy and contented.

  "Calm down," Gus insisted. Then, with a wide grin, continued, "I may have implied that as the lessee, he was responsible for the taxes on the property. Which, of course, had accrued over the years—with interest. He was going to figure out what portion of the rent he felt he owed, and would get back to me."

  "But surely," Miranda said, "I'm responsible for the property taxes. And, while I might have overlooked this, since my father died. It can't be more than the two years. I'm sure Papa would have paid any taxes that were owed."

  "He did. In fact, he prepaid for the duration of the lease. It was the very first thing I checked on. After all," Gus told them, still grinning, "I didn't want to use the taxes as leverage if he'd actually been the one paying them."

  "So, now what?" Victoria asked.

  "Well, I've looked up the deed and walked the property lines. It's much bigger than I thought."

  "Are you sure?" Miranda countered. "I am sure Papa said it was a small lot."

  "Compared to some of the lots on the main street, I suppose it is. But, it's bigger than the workshop lot. It's also directly across from it. So, it doesn't have the central location that you have now." He looked around the table at Neil and the women and said, "You know, we didn't discuss the possibility of you buying the surgery building from Brumbell. Is that an option you might be interested in looking into?"