by Kit Morgan
She looked at the sky, then across the flower-dotted prairie and the small forest bordering it. She could live here for a very long time. But was Amon Cotter the right man to live with? She did have a choice, and the town was supposed to be full of bachelors, not all of which could be as hideous as that Moresy person. The best thing she could do at this point was be patient and get to know the man next to her, even if he was holding a blade of grass between his fingers and blowing on it like a madman.
She jumped when it made an odd sound, almost dropping her pie.
“You call that a whistle?” Cutty scoffed. He plucked a blade, put it between his thumbs and produced an even louder noise.
“I say,” Newton remarked, “how did you do that?”
“It’s easy,” Cutty said with a smile. “Here, let me show ya.” He plucked two pieces of grass, handed one to Newton, the other to Nettie. “Now ya hold it like this, see? Then ya blow.”
Newton and Nettie exchanged a quick glance before both did as he demonstrated, putting a blade between their thumbs, then holding it to their lips.
“Go ahead,” Cutty urged. “Try it.”
They did. Nettie was the first to make a noise, albeit a small one. Newton didn’t.
Cutty fell backwards onto the ground and laughed as he pointed at him. “C’mon, son – ya can do better than that!”
Newton narrowed his eyes at the blade between his fingers and gave it another go, this time producing a sound. “By Jove, I did it!”
Nettie laughed as Amon made another noise himself. Soon the four were creating quite a racket, while unseen by them, a tall dark stranger watched them from the trees and smiled.
Fourteen
The next day Amon showed up at the hotel in the afternoon to call on Nettie. She wasn’t surprised to discover she was excited to see him. She and the others had laughed until their sides hurt the day before, and she couldn’t remember when she’d had such a good time. Part of it was her brother’s dry wit and Cutty’s laugh-out-loud interruptions. But the main reason, she realized, was that she was becoming highly attracted to Amon Cotter.
She checked her hair in a small mirror, pinched her cheeks a few times for good measure, took a deep breath, smoothed the skirt of her dress and headed for the door. She’d hardly seen Newton all day and wondered what he’d been up to. He knew Amon was coming to call. She supposed that Cutty would be in attendance, which meant that, knowing they were properly chaperoned, Newton was free to do as he pleased. She just wondered what he pleased to do.
She went downstairs to find Amon waiting in the lobby with Cutty. Both watched her descend the stairs and she noticed Amon had a light in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. Could it be he was attracted to her as well? “Good morning gentlemen,” she said when she reached the bottom. “What shall we do today?”
“You mean what sort of mischief are ya gonna cause?” Cutty asked with a wink.
“There will be no mischief-making until after lunch,” Amon said. “Have you had yours?”
“No, I haven’t,” she said. “What do you suggest?”
“Why don’t we try Mrs. Dunnigan's cooking today?” Amon said with a grin.
“Oh dear me,” Nettie said. “I’ve heard of dear Mrs. Dunnigan’s cooking, but I’ve only met her the one time.”
“Who hasn’t heard her?” Cutty said dryly.
“Heard of her,” Nettie corrected.
“No, I mean heard her – that woman’s as loud as an elephant!”
Nettie and Amon both laughed. Even Seth chuckled behind the front counter.
“Of course, it will mean dining in the saloon,” Amon pointed out.
“From what I hear it’s hardly a saloon,” said Nettie. “I suppose that’s one thing I’ll grow to love about this town. It hasn’t many vices.”
“Ha! That’s what you think!” Cutty said as he shuffled toward the hotel’s main doors. “Ya just ain’t been here long enough.”
Amon stared at her a moment, ignoring him, before he offered her his arm. “Shall we go find out if what he says is true?”
“Very well,” she said. “Let’s go see what horrible forms of debauchery he’s referring to.”
Amon laughed. “I’m curious to find out myself. Maybe there are things around here Cutty knows that the rest of us don’t.”
“When you find out what they are, tell me!” Seth called after them. Amon waved in response and, with Nettie on his arm, left the hotel.
By then, Cutty was already halfway up the boardwalk. “It seems our chaperone is getting ahead of us,” Nettie commented.
“That’s because he’s as hungry as I am,” Amon said with a chuckle. “Did he have breakfast with you?”
“No, I took tea and toast in my room this morning.”
“You ate alone?”
“Yes. Is that so strange?”
“No, not strange at all, I just presumed you had breakfast with your brother every morning.”
“We may be twins, but we are not so attached at the hip as some might think.”
“I should hope not, especially if we marry. I would hate to wake up to find your brother sitting at our breakfast table each morning.”
That he’d said if instead of when rankled. She stiffened, words forming … but it would be impolite to say them. “In England, quite a few families live together, up to three generations in one household.”
“We have something like that here as well,” he said. “Look at the Cookes – they all live in one house, except for Jefferson and Edith.”
“What if my brother did come to live with us?” she tossed out. She wanted to see if he’d say if again. She didn’t like the way it made her feel.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Amon said. “So long as he carried his share of the load. I’m not in the habit of supporting grown men.”
“My brother is perfectly capable of taking care of himself and would not be a burden. In fact, I think he would be a great asset and would work very hard.”
“Then he’d be most welcome, even aside from him being your brother. One can always use extra hands around a farm.”
“I thought you were just going to build a house on your land, not an entire farm.”
“How else do you think we’d survive?”
Her heart fluttered. “Your craft, of course.”
He shook his head. “That’d be nice … but the folks around here can only use so much furniture. We’re going to have to have other things to feed us. A milking cow, chickens, maybe a few pigs. But don’t worry, they’re easy to take care of.”
“Yes, I know …” She caught herself. “That is … I’ve heard they’re not much trouble.”
“Really? Who told you?”
“Constance,” she said quickly. That was at least partially true – Constance had talked about Harriet the cow at the sewing circle.
“Well, if anyone would know it would be Constance and Penelope.”
“What sort of livestock do Penelope and her husband have?”
“The same, as far as I know – with the addition of one cranky rooster,” Amon said with a laugh.
When they entered Mulligan’s Saloon, Cutty was already seated at a table and waved them over.
“A cranky rooster?” Nettie asked. “Why don’t they eat it?”
“Penelope would never hear of it. She’s quite attached to the little fiend – says it saved her life once.”
Nettie raised both eyebrows at that. This was a story she hadn’t heard. But then, she didn’t know her cousins well. All she’d had to go on before arriving here were the rumors floating around the Baron’s household, and there weren’t even many of those.
They joined Cutty and sat. Within moments Mrs. Dunnigan came to take their orders, or rather tell them what was on the day’s menu. “Three pot roasts?” she barked.
“Pot roast!” Cutty gasped. “It’s our lucky day!”
Nettie’s eyes widened at his sudden enthusiasm and she turned to Mrs. Dunnigan. “I take it the
roast is exceptional?”
“Best in the territory, I’m told,” Mrs. Dunnigan said, her eyes narrowing as if daring someone to say otherwise.
“And we won’t challenge you on that,” Amon said. “Three plates, please.”
“Coffee or water?”
“Both,” he told her. “If you don’t mind.”
“Why should I mind?” Mrs. Dunnigan asked in a huff. She turned on her heel and headed back to the kitchen.
Mr. Mulligan stood behind the bar polishing glasses. “Glad you could finally make it for lunch, Amon. Haven’t seen ye in a while.”
“I’ve been busy out at the camp, is all.”
“Looks like you’re busy with other things now,” Mr. Mulligan said with a wink.
Nettie blushed. She supposed being the only single woman in town and courted by a local was big news. That Cutty was their chaperone only added amusement. She glanced around the saloon and noticed quite a few men were in attendance, though none of them were drinking. Instead, all of them were eating. “Do they serve spirits here?”
“Spirits?” Amon asked.
“She means whiskey, cotton brain!” Cutty said with a roll of his eyes.
“There’s no need to get snippy about it,” Amon quipped.
“I’ll not fault you for it,” she told Amon, smiling. “Where I come from we often use the term ‘spirits’ to refer to drinks of an alcoholic nature.”
Amon looked at Cutty. “How did you know what it meant?”
Cutty shrugged. “Must’ve heard one of the Cookes say it.”
“Oh,” Amon said then turned his attention back to Nettie. “To answer your question, yes, they do serve ‘spirits’ here. Though none of them will haunt you unless you have too much.”
She laughed at his joke, thinking it clever, and wondered if she’d be able to match his wit. “As this is a saloon, I would have assumed so, but in Clear Creek nothing is as it seems.”
Cutty sank an inch or two in his chair. “Ya can say that again,” he mumbled.
Nettie and Amon smiled at his remark just as Mrs. Dunnigan brought their drinks. The pot roast soon followed, and before she knew it the meal was done. It had been delicious, as promised – so much so that she’d barely stopped to think before finishing it all.
“Would you like to take a stroll through town?” Amon asked, pushing his plate away. “I need to pick up a few things at the mercantile.”
“Of course, I would love to. Cutty?”
Cutty wiped his mouth with a napkin. “What’re ya askin’ me for? I’m the chaperone, remember? I have to get dragged along with ya whether I like it or not!”
Nettie tried to suppress a giggle and wound up snorting like Constance instead.
“What’s so funny?” Cutty asked as he got up from his chair.
“You are,” she laughed. “You act like you don’t care for the job, but I know you’re having as good a time as we are.”
Nettie and Amon saw the corner of his mouth twitch. Clearly he was trying not to laugh, which caused them to chuckle all the more.
“You three get out of here!” Mrs. Dunnigan yelled across the saloon. Several men hunkered down in their chairs as she stormed across the room waving a cast-iron ladle. “Take your horseplay outside!”
“We ain’t playin’ with no horses!” Cutty barked back.
“I didn’t say you were … pah!” Mrs. Dunnigan shook her utensil at them. “Now get out! Unless you’re having pie!”
“No thank you, Mrs. Dunnigan,” Amon said to appease her. “We’ll buy some candies from Wilfred, if you don’t mind.”
“Fine, then!” she said with a final wave of her ladle and marched back to the kitchen.
“My, but she’s excitable, isn’t she?” Nettie observed.
“Ya have no idea,” Cutty remarked as he smashed his hat onto his head. “Let’s go get ourselves some licorice whips.”
Amon came around the table and offered her his arm again. “That sounds like a good idea.”
She gazed into his eyes and felt her heart flutter again. Good heavens, she was really starting to like him! She just hoped he didn’t say if again anytime soon.
* * *
Cutty studied the young couple as they walked ahead of him. They liked each other, he could tell – their attraction was even more evident today than yesterday. He wasn’t exactly sure when he’d noticed it – when they were naming the clouds the day before? On the wagon ride back to town? Maybe when Amon took off after Nettie when she went to fetch her brother from the stand of trees?
Who knows? All he did know was that he was sure his daughter and Amon Cotter were falling in love. She’d marry him, start a family …
He gulped. Family meant children, which meant … egad! Cutty stopped and leaned against a post. Good grief – he’d be a grandfather! He swallowed hard and watched Nettie and Amon walk on as an unfamiliar longing started in his gut. He had a sudden flash of sitting in Amon and Nettie’s home, bouncing babies on his knees before Sunday supper. Newton would be there and they’d play cribbage together after they had their dessert and coffee …
Tears stung the back of his eyes, and he almost choked. But he got a hold of himself before anyone saw, and forced one foot in front of the other. He had to tell them, somehow, some way, that he was their father. Of course, when he did, he would run the risk of losing them forever. They hated Thackary Holmes for abandoning them, hated him for the scandal he’d caused and they had to bear. Hated him so much that they’d left England to come to America in hopes of escaping his legacy.
And they’d come here. God, he decided, had quite the sense of humor. But if it hadn’t been for God and the things He’d put Cutty through, he’d probably still be Thackary Holmes. That thought scared him even more than the thought of telling his children who he had been.
He was glad now to be plain old Cutty, a vagabond, a handyman, of no consequence, position or wealth, who owned nothing but the clothes on his back and a funny-looking gold piece he’d found in a cave. Who knew if that was really worth anything? Was it even real gold? But all the same, he’d tucked it away to keep it safe.
Come to think of it, where did he put that thing?
“Cutty!” Amon yelled from down the street. They’d already reached the Wallers’. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Sorry! Woolgatherin’!” he called back, then hurried to catch up. “Guess I cain’t think and walk at the same time no more,” he added when he finally reached them.
Amon’s laugh brought Grandma Waller to her front door. “What in tarnation is going on out here, a party?”
“Hello, Grandma,” Amon called to her. “I was just laughing at something Cutty said. How are you today?”
“Joints don’t hurt as bad as yesterday, but my feet sure do. How about you?”
Nettie giggled.
“Never been better,” he said, then turned to Nettie. “You’ll find that Grandma tells it like it is.”
“I can see that. A good trait, I should think.”
“If someone asks me how I am, why wouldn’t I tell them?” Grandma came off her porch to join them in the street. “And I expect the same in return. Now what brings you here?”
“Nothing,” Amon said. “We’re just walking to the mercantile.”
“Well then, carry on and don’t let me bother you. Whenever someone’s near my porch I just figure they need tending.” She looked at Cutty. “Speaking of which, how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” he said with a wave his hand. “Gonna get me a licorice whip.” He turned away and started across the street. He didn’t want Grandma asking him too many questions, or getting too close a look at him with Nettie. After all, she and Doc Waller had seen him without his eye patch and might spot a resemblance. He himself had noticed it yesterday – she had the same dimple he had. Cutty’s own mother had had it, and her mother before her. But Newton didn’t.
Yes, of the two, Nettie looked more like Thackary Holmes than her brother. Why that
was, considering they were identical twins, he had no idea. But for some reason he saw more of himself in her than his son. Newton reminded him more of their mother Elizabeth …
He swallowed hard as he reached the mercantile steps. “Ya comin’?” he called over his shoulder.
Amon nodded, said something to Grandma, then headed across the street with Nettie. The three entered the mercantile together and went straight to the counter. Cutty slapped his hand on it like it was Mulligan’s bartop. “Serve em’ up, Wilfred!”
Wilfred studied the three a moment then turned to the candy jars behind him. “Licorice whips, lemon drops, cinnamon candy?”
“Make mine a licorice whip,” Cutty said and slapped the counter again.
“What would you like?” Amon asked Nettie.
“Oh dear. Are those the only three selections?”
Wilfred turned. “Nope, we got peppermint sticks and …” He glanced around conspiratorially. “Irene baked some fantastic cookies this morning. I can run upstairs and get some if’n you’d like.” He patted his stomach. “If’n I don’t give a few away, I’ll eat the whole batch.”
“Bring em’ on down!” Cutty quipped. “I’m sure they’ll go great with a licorice whip.”
“How about you, Amon – you want some?” Wilfred asked.
“Bring enough for everybody,” he replied, then asked Nettie, “would you like some candy with yours?”
“A peppermint stick, I think,” she said with a smile as she gazed at him.
Cutty watched them out of the corner of his eye and leaned against the counter for support. The picture of a homey hearth flashed into his mind again, with Nettie, Amon, Newton, grandchildren, even a puppy! He sighed at the sudden craving, one no amount of licorice whips or cookies would satisfy. “Hurry up, Wilfred, we got things to do!” he barked, trying to drown out the noise in his heart.
