Return to Whittakerville

by Shirley A. Roe

  “One moment please. Have a seat.” The young woman moved toward one of the offices. Jeb sat in one of the chairs, his back straight and tense. Anna remained standing.

  “Mr. Whitehall will see you now.” The two young people entered the huge, wood paneled office. A tall, white haired man was standing behind a large mahogany desk.

  “Mr. And Mrs. Whittaker? What can I do for you?” He extended his hand; Jeb ignored it. Anna reached forward and shook his hand, a very unorthodox move for a woman. He smiled at her. “Please have a seat.” Anna took the chair directly in front of the desk, Jeb wandered around the room nervously, his bowler hat clutched firmly in his hand.

  “My husband is Jeb Whittaker, I believe you have an inheritance here for him. An inheritance from his father, Pastor Jebediah Whittaker?”

  “If I remember correctly, there are other relatives that may have a claim to that money. Let me get my files.” He walked slowly from the room staring at Jeb as if he was trying to remember him.

  “See, he doesn't recognize you. That is good. Now sit down for heaven's sake. You are making me nervous.” Reluctantly, he took the chair next to hers.

  “Yes, I was correct, there may be some other relatives with a claim. I am afraid I can't help you.” Whitehall took his seat behind the desk as if to dismiss them. Jeb leapt toward the man, about to grab his lapels. Mr. Whitehall turned white, a loud gasp rose in his throat. Anna pulled Jeb back; he was fuming. Quickly, trying to regain some control Anna produced the letter.

  “I believe this is what you need. Jeb, please let the man read the letter.” She gave him a very stern sideways glance. Jeb glared at Whitehall. Jeb's face was crimson with rage and he was close to losing control. The other man watched him nervously as he took the paper from Anna's outstretched hand. “Now, our money if you please.” Mr. Whitehall read the letter.

  We, Jeremy Whittaker brother of Jebediah Whittaker and his sons, Isaac, Abraham and Ezekiel hereby declare that all and any monies and or property located or discovered in Whittakerville belonging to Jebediah Whittaker be given to his son, Jeb Whittaker. We identify the bearer of this note to be the son of Jebediah Whittaker. We revoke any and all claim to said monies. We sign this decree this day in St. Louis.

  The letter was signed by all of the Whittaker men. He looked up defiantly at the two young people in front of him. “I don't think this will be enough. I am afraid you will have to leave now. You stay away from me, Mr. Whittaker.” Jeb started to rise from the chair. Anna put her hand on his arm, signaling him to sit down.

  “Oh, I don't think so, Mr. Whitehall. My uncle is William Hale, Governor of Wyoming territory. I don't think he will be very impressed by your attitude or your poor treatment of his favorite niece.” Anna fluttered her eyelashes confidently, as Mr. Whitehall turned pale. Jeb just stared at Anna in confusion. What was she talking about?

  “Shall we go and send a telegram to dearest Uncle Willy, Jeb? This man doesn't seem to want to be very cooperative.” She rose and signaled Jeb to do the same.

  “Wait. Perhaps I have been a little hasty. Let me see that letter again.” Mr. Whitehall was frightened of Jeb but the mere mention of William Hale turned him to ice. Anna pushed it toward him. “Oh yes, of course. This is fine. Come back tomorrow and I will have all the paperwork ready.” He forced a smile at Jeb and Anna, both staring at him coldly.

  “I don't think so, Mr. Whitehall. Now go and get the money and the paperwork. We don't have time to come back tomorrow. Jeb, why don't you go and send that telegram and I will wait here for the money?” Jeb looked at her confused. Mr. Whitehall exited quickly. Jeb whispered to Anna.

  “What the hell are you doing? That Hale guy is not your uncle.”

  “Shh, just keep quiet and watch. You have a lot to learn. Now fix your cravat, you are about to become a very wealthy man. And keep that temper in check.”

  After about ten minutes, Mr. Whitehall appeared carrying a large satchel. He placed it on the desk and opened it. Anna suppressed a gasp. The bag contained gold bars, jewelry, money, and several official documents. She removed one of the papers and realized it was a deed. Jeb reached in and took a gold bar from the bag.

  “How do I know this is all there was? Maybe you helped yourself before you brought it in here?” Jeb glared at the man making him very nervous. This one was dangerous, Mr. Whitehall could tell by the look in his eyes. Sweat formed on his brow.

  “Of course, this is all there is. I assure you, sir. I am a lawyer not a thief.”

  “Don't worry, Jeb Honey. If we find out that Mr. Whitehall removed anything from this satchel, Uncle Willy will take care of it. You know how he hates vermin.”

  “Please sign here, Mr. Whittaker and you may take your money. It has been my pleasure.” He held the pen out to Jeb. Jeb glanced sideways at Anna. Anna picked up the paper and read it.

  “Go ahead and sign it, Jeb.” She placed it in front of him. He pretended to read it and signed his name. “The pleasure is all ours, Mr. Whitehall.”

  “Please give my regards to your uncle, Mrs. Whittaker.” Mr. Whitehall showed them to the door, happy to see the back of the pair of them. He had been hoping no one would claim the satchel and had already taken several gold bars for himself. Now he hoped it would not come back to haunt him. “Good day.”

  Anna and Jeb took the bag and headed for the hotel. They dumped the contents out on the bed and stared at it in disbelief. “Wow, when you said a bag of treasure, I had no idea. These deeds must be worth a fortune. It looks like you own half of Whittakerville.” She turned and gave him a huge hug. He was smiling for the first time in a long time. He hugged her gently; the memory of what had happened on the train was haunting him.

  “I wouldn't have it, if it weren't for you Anna, you were so amazing in that lawyer's office. I would have beaten him to a pulp. What made you think of the Uncle Willy thing?” She saw a new respect in his eyes and she liked it.

  “I read about him in the paper, apparently he is a real mean so and so. Most of the court officials are afraid of him so I thought I would try it. It worked, Jeb. Look at all this loot.” She picked up a necklace that seemed to be emeralds and rubies. “Put this on me, I want to see how I look.” Like a pair of children, they played with the jewels, admired the gold bars and threw the money in the air. Jeb was truly happy for the first time in his life. After a few minutes Anna looked at Jeb, smiling. She was pleased with him and with herself.

  “I was proud of you today, Jeb. You handled yourself very well in that office. Except for that one little slip, you acted the perfect gentleman.” He beamed under her praise. “I want you to know that I forgive you for what happened on the train. Let's just forget it ever happened.” She put her arms around his neck and kissed him gently. He kissed her back. He stared into her green eyes, losing his heart. Anna led him to the bed and sat down motioning for him to sit beside her. “We can't have intercourse Jeb, because I don't want to get pregnant. I do care for you. I really do.”

  “But I can give you a drink that will prevent it, Anna. My mother taught me many of the Indian customs. There is a plant that grows wild here and when women drink the tea, they do not get pregnant. I can get you some if you want.” He was taking a chance but he wanted her desperately. She was looking at him with skepticism.

  “Are you sure this will work?”

  “Absolutely, all the Indian squaws use it. They don't tell the men but I know my mother said it works. Can we try it?” He looked at her excitedly. “I will go and pick some right now.” He reached up and gently stroked her bruised cheek. “I am sorry.”

  “Slow down, boy. I might try it but we don't have to rush. We have more important things to do. Now let's take a walk and find all of these properties. Mr. Landowner.” She giggled and grabbed his hand. He went willingly, still thinking about finding those plants and taking her to bed. Anna was thinking about money, lots of money.

  Whittakerville was a thriving pioneer town. Anna and Jeb strolled down the dusty street
passed the tinsmith and wheelwright shop, the barbershop, the post office and the saloon. There were two banks, a clothing store, a Chinese laundry and sawmill. At the saddlery, Jeb stopped and bought a large Stetson hat. “This is more like it, we are not in St. Louis anymore, Anna.” Although he agreed with her new wardrobe choices, he was not comfortable with the small- rimmed bowler hats. He admired himself in the dirty glass of the next shop, “Much better.”

  The town was larger than Anna had anticipated. Anna stopped to browse in the dress shop but came out empty handed. “Nothing that suits, Milady?” Jeb inquired.

  “You must be joking, ready-to-wear is not for me. I have enough dresses for a short while and they have a catalogue in there for made to measure. I guess it is true what they say about pioneer woman having to suffer. Ready-to-wear, indeed.” Jeb just rolled his eyes.

  Many small cottages sprouted around the perimeter of the town, side streets extended off the main street, some with houses, others filled with small shops. They found the blacksmith shop and walked right in. A burly man covered in black soot and sweat, barely acknowledged them. He pounded a glowing horseshoe with his hammer.

  “Excuse me, sir. We are looking for the owner.” Anna brushed a spark from her sleeve. Her nosed wrinkled at the smell of perspiration and burning metal. The man stopped what he was doing.

  “Who wants to see him?”

  “Your landlord, Jeb Whittaker, that's who.” The man looked confused.

  “Old Jebediah Whittaker has been dead for twenty years. Not likely he is looking for me.” He picked up his tools in a large, knurled hand, laughing, about to continue what he was doing.

  “This is Jeb Whittaker, his son and the owner of this property. We want to talk to you about your rent.” The man stopped in his tracks and stared open mouthed at the pair.

  “My rent? You got a deed?”

  “First, let us introduce ourselves. I am Anna Whittaker and this is Jeb Whittaker. You are?” She waited, poised and polished for his answer.

  “Smithers, Bill Smithers. I bin the blacksmith in these here parts for more than two decades. Didn't know the parson had any sons other than the three that left here after he died. You ain't one of them boys. I remember them.”

  Jeb spoke for the first time since entering the building. Remembering Anna's earlier praise, he stretched out his hand to the man. “Jeb Whittaker at your service, sir. I hope we can reach an agreement.” He shook the man's filthy hand and Anna was very surprised but impressed. Smithers seemed more comfortable talking to a man. Jeb produced the deed to the blacksmith shop.

  “Yep, looks like you own it alright. How much rent you want. I ain't paid none for years but I run a good business here and I believe in paying what's due. Ask anyone.”

  “I think five dollars a month will be sufficient. Is that a fair amount?” Jeb was really starting to get into this role. “You can consider all of the time before this as a gift.”

  “Five it is, here is the first payment. Real nice meeting you, how long you staying?” Jeb took the five dollars and put it in his pocket, his first payment as a landowner. He was going to like this life. Anna nodded to him and moved out of the shop leaving Jeb to conclude the conversation.

  “Staying in town, wife and I are looking for a nice house. Thank you, Mr. Smithers and keep up the good work.” He tipped his hat and followed Anna into the street. The blacksmith picked up his hammer and went back to work. Nice couple, rather uppity for this part of the country but they might fit in.

  Out in the street the two young people could hardly believe how easy this was. They were both intoxicated with power and excitement. “May I buy you dinner, Mrs. Whittaker? Now that I am a wealthy landowner, I can afford the finest roast beef in town. This way, Milady.” He laughed, extended his arm like a fine gentleman would, and walked her towards the hotel. Anna walked along the street wondering just how many of the other buildings he owned. She had many thoughts running through her head. Just remember, the deeds are his, not yours, keep him happy. Unconsciously she reached for her cheek. The bruise was disappearing but the memory was still vivid. I will have to watch myself with Jeb. But, I can handle him. At last, I am free.

  Over the next few weeks, Anna and Jeb contacted and collected rent from five more tenants including the boarding house, the feed mill and three houses. Another of the houses that Jeb held the deed for was empty. It was a very large house but in need of repair. “Let's get a crew in here and have it fixed up. It could be a very nice house and it is the biggest in the town. Just think how everyone would look up to you, Jeb. The biggest house in town and the owner of several properties.” Anna was very convincing. Jeb liked the sound of that. The old place appealed to him. It was a two story with a widow's walk on top of the roof. A large porch surrounded the entire house.

  Jeb soon hired a crew and the repairs began. In the meantime, he and Anna stayed in the hotel. One day they visited the churchyard where Jebediah Whittaker was buried. An old woman approached them.

  “Did you know the good Pastor Whittaker? Of course, you both look too young.” They looked at the rotund old woman with disinterest. “I asked if you knew him or knew his family?”

  “I am his son.” The surprised, old lady studied his face.

  “Which one, you don't look familiar and I knew the family.”

  “I am the youngest, Jeb. Who might you be?” The old woman looked at him suspiciously.

  “You do look a might like the Pastor Whittaker, same dark hair and eyes. Nice to meet you, I am Olga Mueller; I knew Martha and the boys very well. Were you born after she left Whittakerville?”

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Mueller.” Jeb was wondering if the old woman would make a connection to Anna. Anna took the extended wrinkled hand but did not give her relationship to Martha away. Jeb took the lead. “My wife, Anna and I are settling in this town. We are fixing up the old Hansen house.” Olga Mueller looked confused but didn't say anything untoward. She nodded and then moved off. Jeb was getting to be a very smooth talker.

  “Weird old bat.” Anna watched her go. “She doesn't look like she remembers what day it is, never mind who is who.” Anna looked at Jebediah Whittaker's grave, tossed her hair and walked away. Jeb walked over, spat on the grave and joined her. “Old busy body will tell everyone in town what you just told her, maybe you should have kept it to yourself.”

  “I have to tell people something. They need to know I am Jebediah's son, especially since I have his name and his land holdings. Stop picking on the old lady, she seemed harmless to me. I assume you don't want anyone to know you are Martha Whittaker's daughter, so we will stick with the ‘wife’ story for now.”

  “No, I don't. I don't need anyone writing a letter to my parents in St. Louis. I am enjoying the freedom. Besides, I like the façade of man and wife. Yes, let's go and see the house. I am so excited about moving in.”

  The renovations were almost complete. All of the outer surfaces had been painted and repaired, with new doors and windows installed. The inside was repainted. A week before, Anna had shrieked at the painter, when the color was not the shade she wanted. Jeb was surprised at the rage she displayed over painting a room. She screamed and waved her fists at the poor man, her actions almost hysterical. Jeb knew she wanted the house to be perfect but he didn't think her actions were justified. However desiring peace, he stayed out of it. The poor man was terrified and promised to repaint immediately. Anna was satisfied now. New floors were installed and only the kitchen remained in need of repair. The two walked through the house. “Won't be long we will have a nice kitchen, where you can cook us some delicious fancy dinners.” Jeb was growing very fond of this house already. It was spring; he could imagine roses blooming in the garden.

  “Ha, that will be the day. You mean the cook will cook us some fancy dinners. These hands do not cook or clean, so get that through your head. We will need at least three servants.” Jeb looked at her, no point in arguing. They continued up the large circular staircase. �
��I will have to have this banister fixed, I don't like the stain.” Jeb just rolled his eyes at her. Anna seemed to be obsessed with the house. “This bedroom is lovely. Look at the view of the hills in the distance. Wyoming really is a lovely place. The grasses are like gold, and you know how I love gold.” She laughed and he put his arms around her.

  “Three servants for Milady, it shall be. Now did you drink your tea this morning?” He had been successful in talking her into drinking the tea but so far they had not had sex. He waited patiently for her to answer him, staring at the golden grasses of Wyoming.

  “Yes, I did. How long did you say I should drink it before it will work?” She was actually anxious to have a physical relationship with him. It would give her another hold over him that would keep him with her, him and his money.

  “At least seven days, it has been nine. But who's counting.” The two of them laughed out loud.

  That night, she let him come to her. He was anxious but kept repeating over and over in his head, I am not like him. I am not like him. Jeb was very gentle with her. She was surprised. Not remembering much of their first sexual encounter, her curiosity for the experience was overwhelming. She urged him on. He was falling in love with her. He wanted her to love him. She wanted sex. When they were both satisfied, he put his arms around her. She snuggled, content in his arms. So that is what the older girls meant by unbelievable. She was truly a woman now. Jeb was sleeping but Anna lay awake planning the move into the new house, the hiring of the servants and how to become the most prestigious woman in Whittakerville.

  Chapter Six

  On the Farm

  Vivienne sat in the kitchen of Isaac and Annabelle's farmhouse. Annabelle was seated on a small stool in the corner. In front of her was a plunger type butter churn. She moved the handle up and down. The sound of the handle blended rhythmically into the background as Vivienne talked. Sissy and Thomas were seated at the table listening to tales of the south. Vivienne was a wonderful storyteller. “In Mississippi, the rivers flow into the delta. One is called the ‘Singing River.’ On certain days when the wind blows just the right way, you can hear the river singing. My Pa and I heard it many times.”