Under Starry Skies

by Judy Ann Davis

  The town was empty when Maria approached the boardwalk, still shrouded in a foggy morning gloom. Shopkeepers had not yet come out to sweep their walks or turn their signs from closed to open for business. Far up the street, she heard a wagon plodding toward the center of town, its iron-banded wheels crunching on small rocks. From somewhere behind her, a skinny brown dog raced past, skimming the side of her skirt. She skidded sideways in surprise, shivers running up her arms. She clasped her hands to her chest beating like a war drum.

  “Looks like someone’s a mite jumpy this morning,” a scratchy voice said.

  Lang Redford stepped out from the mining office with Jebb Masters and Pat Wenson. “Well, lookie here, gentlemen, if it isn’t our new schoolmarm. And what could you be doing in town so early in the morning?”

  “I have business to attend to with Betsy Ashmore.” Maria looked warily around, but there was not a soul in sight.

  “The sassy hell-cat with the broom who runs the General Store? And what might you be wanting to buy? Some baubles and ribbons, per chance?” Lang Redford took a step forward and raised a hand to touch her face.

  “Don’t touch me!” Maria shied backward and heard the other men chuckle.

  “My, you’re not really very hospitable to those who work for your dear auntie.”

  “Maybe Miss O’Donnell is just not in a hospitable mood this morning, boys,” a deep voice said. Maria turned to see Frank Norwell step up on the walk and tip his hat. His old weathered face was framed in snow white hair. His hand rested on his gun strapped to his waist. “I would suggest you all move along…and have a good day.”

  “We don’t want no trouble.” Jebb Masters rubbed his jaw.

  “If you do what I say,” Norwell said, “there won’t be any trouble, I assure you.”

  Jebb jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Come, Lang, let’s get out of here. Wherever Norwell shows up, his men are always close by. Right, Pat?”

  Maria watched the trio turn and stalk up the walk.

  Norwell turned to Maria and squinted down at her. “Isn’t it a little early for you to be out and about?”

  She nodded. “I was hoping to talk to Betsy Ashmore before school. Those men caught me by surprise, Mr. Norwell, and I thank you for coming to my rescue.”

  He nodded. “Yes, sometimes surprises are welcome. Sometimes they are not, Miss O’Donnell.”

  “Please call me Maria.”

  He looked down at the boardwalk for a moment, then looked up and smiled. “Did a young man come by asking you to help him learn to read?”

  “Yes, and we made arrangements for Eli to stop twice a week at the end of the school day for an hour’s lesson. His sister, Margaret, is one of my older students. It works out well. He has an excuse to come by, then take her home after his lesson. He appears to be a very bright lad.”

  “That he is.”

  Maria pursed her lips. “Tell me, how long have you lived here, Mr. Norwell?”

  “A long, long time.” He chuckled. “Anyway, at my age, it seems like a long time, my dear. Is something troubling you?”

  “And you knew from the start you wanted to live here?”

  He took her gently by the arm and steered her to a nearby bench. “You’re having doubts?” A puzzled expression appeared on his old weathered face.

  “Maybe,” she agreed, sitting down. She watched him take a seat beside her and remove his hat, hanging it on his knee. “Even if I’m sure I want to stay, I’m not sure others in this town believe my sister and I should.”

  “Is someone trying to scare you away?”

  She withdrew the note from her pocket that she had received yesterday and watched as he read it.

  “This is rubbish, sheer rubbish, my dear.” He looked at her with a disgusted expression, refolded the note, and handed it back to her. “This is the work of some spineless coward. There’s something you should know, Maria. The people who choose to stay aren’t afraid to take a few chances now and then. The losers sit around and wait for the odds to improve. When it doesn’t happen, the losers leave. Winners expect to win in advance and believe life is a self-fulfilling prophecy. They are brave, they are fearless, but they are wily and smart.” He smiled at her and rose. “I hear you are an exceptional teacher, and I think you’re a wily and smart young lady, for what it’s worth.” He patted her shoulder in a fatherly fashion.

  She blushed and looked down at her hands. “Thank you for the advice.”

  “However, my dear, I would take any personal threat very seriously.”

  She nodded, then stood. “I will. Oh, and I want to thank you for the puppy, we are still trying to find an appropriate name for him. He’s a bit rambunctious.”

  Norwell scowled. “Well, let’s hope he lives up to your expectations.”

  “Tye said he’d help train him.”

  “If he’s as good as the mongrel Ashmore owns, you’ll have an excellent watch dog. Every man in town wishes his dog was as devoted as Swamp is to Tydall.”

  Maria smiled. “I guess I’m not supposed to know, but I did find out you were responsible for my beautiful dress. I felt like the belle of the ball at the opening of the Mule Shed.”

  He stared at her a moment with a thoughtful, kind gaze. “Always my pleasure, Maria. Always my pleasure.” He took her gently by the arm. “Come, let me walk you to your destination before you get yourself into more trouble.”

  Minutes later, when Maria knocked on the back door to Betsy Ashmore’s living quarters, she heard quick steps hurrying to open the door. Betsy greeted her with her warm signature smile. She was a petite, energetic woman whose mouth and eyes laughed together and often. She was dressed in a crisp brown cotton dress beneath a many-pocketed, clean canvas shop apron.

  “Come in to the kitchen. I just put on a pot of coffee and took bread from the oven.” She led her through the parlor, her long golden braid swinging in rhythm to her walk as she passed through an archway into the kitchen. Farther beyond, a door led into the store. “I’m expecting my brothers to show up later this morning, since I haven’t seen them in a few days. Here, sit.” She motioned to the huge kitchen table surrounded by eight chairs positioned next to a large, black cast iron stove with six burners, a warming oven, and a tank for keeping water warm.

  “I don’t mean to bother you,” Maria said, “but I wanted to thank you for providing the birthday gift for Lenny Sanderson. The child was thrilled. He never celebrated a birthday before, at least not with cake and presents.”

  “No bother.” Betsy opened the door to the firebox on the stove and threw a few pieces of wood on the hot coals. “I’m always happy to help all our students when given the opportunity. Don’t hesitate to ask me. Education is going to be important to Golden, especially with statehood around the corner.” She retrieved two cups from a cupboard nearby and set them on the table. “I’m glad Lenny liked the coat. Old man Sanderson is a hard worker, even with his ornery disposition. It’s sad with his wife’s death, he can’t seem to pick up the pieces and properly father his own son. Both are in need of a break in life.”

  “Yes, they are.” Maria watched Betsy pour two cups of coffee and set sugar and cream on the table before taking a seat. “I need another favor. This time it’s for me.” She blushed and felt the red heat creep up her neck.

  “Then spill the beans.” Betsy spoke in her no nonsense voice she had perfected over the years after living with four brothers underfoot.

  “I need to learn how to shoot a gun.”

  “I thought Tye was going to teach you?”

  “He tried,” Maria admitted, feeling the heat of her blush deepen. But how to tell her his nearness only seemed to make her more nervous? “But I had just arrived in Golden and everything was so new and overwhelming.” And now I need to learn to protect myself from someone who wants me to leave the Territory or maybe wants me dead.

  “Ah, men!” Betsy said with a laugh. “They always go to extremes with instructions and details whenever it’s something
to do with mechanical parts, especially weapons. Sure, I can teach you, and I have a double shot derringer in the store perfect for you to carry undetected. It’s small and has beautiful ivory handles. I carry mine in my garter.”

  “While you’re minding the store?”

  Betsy nodded and rose. “And I have a revolver behind the counter, too.” She went into the parlor and came back with a small, double-barreled derringer. The ivory scrimshaw handles on the gun were etched with delicate roses, and the gun’s frame and barrel were engraved with intricate scrollwork. “This is mine. My brothers had it specially designed in France.” She set the gun on the table. “You never know when you may need to defend yourself. When do you want to learn?”

  “Soon.”

  “Is there any special reason why you need to learn soon?” Betsy scrutinized her more closely as if she could read her mind.

  Maria shook her head. “Whenever you have a free moment.” She didn’t want to alarm Betsy with the notion she thought someone was following her. In fact, she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t her imagination running away with itself. And she didn’t think she should say anything about the warning on the chalkboard and the note until she had time to talk to Tye. She decided upon another approach. “Well, Two Bears, actually suggested it.”

  “Two Bears?” Betsy’s face registered surprise. “Land sakes, how’d you meet that rascal?”

  How do I explain to someone why I’m teaching an Indian to read and write? Maria smiled. “I met Two Bears when Tye and I were shot at the first time we were on the mountain visiting the Sanderson homestead. We had a small conversation about petroleum jelly which he initially tried to convince me was bear grease.”

  “Oh heavens, that sounds like crazy Two Bears.” A flash of humor crossed Betsy’s face. “I remember giving him some when he had some scrapes on his arms and stopped by to see Julia one day at the Gast ranch. It came into the store as a sample. It’s a derivative of oil and is now becoming very popular for cuts and burns.”

  Maria checked her watch pinned to her dress and stood. “Oh, golly. I have to get to my classroom. The children will be arriving soon. Thank you for the coffee and your help.” She turned to leave, then turned back. “I would appreciate it, Betsy, if we kept our conversation strictly between ourselves.”

  Betsy nodded. “I’ll send one of my delivery boys to tell you when and where we can meet.”

  ****

  Minutes later, true to their word, Betsy’s rowdy brothers arrived for a free breakfast. She was always delighted to have them come visit, and even more joyful to see them leave—especially when they arrived with Swamp, Brett, and Doc Wade in tow. Now she had five mouths and a dog to feed instead of the usual three. Swamp quickly took his place in the corner of the room near the stove where Betsy had placed a blanket for his many trips to see her. She handed Marcus a crock of butter, a knife, and two loaves of bread to slice while she finished a pan of bacon and started on a dozen eggs. There were times when she was more than glad she owned a store. Feeding a bunch of scalawags like the noisy ones before her was no small task.

  “Do we get to tell you how we want our eggs?” Flint slouched down, reaching out and yanking the back of her braid, as he winked at her.

  Resisting the urge to throw the fry pan at his head, she shook her spatula instead. “No! Everyone gets fried eggs this morning, both sides flipped, and you all better hope I don’t break any yolks. Then you’ll get half scrambled, and no, you don’t get to decide who gets that sorry mess. You want a special order?” She gestured to the door. “Go over to the Mule Shed and pay to eat in the dining room.”

  The kitchen filled with laughter. Dr. Wade and Brett grinned and Marcus raised his hands in mock defeat.

  Tye spoke, “See what we have to put up with? And does anyone wonder why my sister is not married? Who’d marry someone with a temper hot enough to tan a hide while it’s still on the horse?”

  Betsy’s gaze circled the table—from Cullen to Brett to Tye. “I don’t see great throngs of womenfolk hankering to hitch up with the lot of you three.” From the corner, Swamp gave a small whine and looked up at all of them. “See, even the dog agrees with me.”

  “Careful, Tye,” Brett warned. “You’re going to get the broken eggs.” He smiled solicitously. “You wound me, Miss Ashmore, with your harsh comment.”

  “I’ll wound you with that knife once Marcus is finished.” She pointed at him with her free hand. “Please refill everyone’s cup with coffee. The more hands, the lighter the work. And toss that poor dog a slice of bacon for his wisdom.”

  But it was Cullen Wade who pushed back his chair and reached for the coffeepot. “Allow me, Betsy, since I’m honored to be able to just sit here and enjoy a good meal, the company of a fine lady, and the ribald humor of your misfit brothers.” When everyone groaned, he added, “And of course, let’s not forget that Brett is all decked out in new duds this morning with the sole intent of convincing the town council to purchase his lumber for the new jail. He shouldn’t be handling anything he can spill on himself before he spins his spectacular spiel.”

  “Oh, heaven forbid, Captain Trumble gets himself dirty.” Tye didn’t try to disguise his sarcasm.

  Dressed in a new sack coat, striped trousers, and a brocade vest, Brett looked at Tye with a sour face. He pointed at Tye’s buckskins. “At least my clothes can be washed without me in them.”

  Tye snorted. “At least some of us really work. Now Doc, here, was up most of the night delivering a baby for Joseph Sarowski’s eldest daughter, Eleanor. A big, healthy boy.”

  “And her second son,” Betsy added, smiling. “Joe will be pleased as punch since all the other daughters have given him eight granddaughters. He longs for grandsons to teach them the trade. Until last night, Isaac—who hangs around with Lenny Sanderson—was his only grandson.”

  Dr. Wade laughed. “Joe was so excited he reverted to speaking Russian, and the only thing I understood was the glass of vodka he pushed into my hand while he mumbled some heavenly incantation his son-in-law later translated as ‘God bless you, Doctor.’ Then shortly thereafter, someone came running and said Lang Redford needed his arm sewn up, so I had to leave the festivities.” He laughed. “Good thing, too. I could have been sporting a terrific hangover.”

  “Lang Redford was knifed?” Betsy asked. “By whom?”

  “A misunderstanding in a card game, according to him.” Cullen set the coffeepot back on the stove and sat back down. “When he’s not gambling at the saloon, he’s at a back table in the barroom playing with some old cronies who hang out there. I don’t know how he fits his work in between card games.”

  Betsy put the platter of bacon on the table and took everyone’s plates one at a time as they handed them around the table to her. Leaving her two eggs in the pan, she filled each plate before she took a seat next to Cullen Wade who rose and politely poured her a cup of coffee before sitting again to resume eating.

  “Tell me, Dr. Wade, what do you know about Emma McNeil?” She buttered a piece of bread. She suspected her brothers had already told him about Emma’s unsettling exit when his name was mentioned at the opening of the Mule Shed Inn.

  “It’s Doc or Cullen,” he said gently while smiling. “I’ve known these idiot brothers of yours for far too long for you to be formal.” He took a sip of coffee. “I knew her cousin who served in the War as an assistant to our medical staff.” He shrugged. “We once briefly discussed Emma’s first husband’s death. He said he was there when they found the body, pulling it from the millpond some three days later after he’d been missing. We discussed the outward appearance of a body having been in the water for a lengthy time—” He looked around the table and then focused his gaze back on Betsy. “Should we be discussing this at the breakfast table?”

  “I assure you, Cullen, there is nothing these foolhardy brothers of mine haven’t discussed at the table that would cause me any distress. You were saying…”

  Cullen shrugged again. �
�It appears, from the information the cousin provided, Emma’s husband was killed initially, then thrown into the millpond where he was submerged for a short time, rather than three days. However, the death was ruled as a drowning.”

  Marcus leaned back in his chair. “Tell us, Tye, have you had to duck any more bullets or dodge anything lately? Every time you take the little schoolmarm on an outing, you get into some sort of trouble.”

  “It’s not amusing,” Betsy admonished above the chuckles around the table.

  “Pretty soon she’s going to dump him for someone who’s a tad bit safer,” Marcus added.

  “Stop it, right now.” Betsy gave Marcus a warning look and was glad he relented. Despite the big man’s physique and his jovial nature, his persistent humor could be wearisome at times.

  “Maybe someone’s trying to scare Tye away from Maria.” Flint stared at the group with a concerned look.

  “Or maybe, someone is trying to scare Maria away from Tye,” Betsy muttered uneasily. She decided she’d have to tell Tye about Maria’s recent visit to learn how to handle a firearm. But she would have to wait until she could get him alone.

  Marcus looked at Betsy’s plate which held only a slice of bread she had been nibbling on. “Aren’t you going to eat those last two eggs in the pan?”

  Betsy shook her head and rose, sliding an egg on Marcus’s plate. “Anyone else?” When no one spoke, she dropped the last one on the big man’s plate as well. “I have no idea where you stow all this food, Marcus. Your poor, poor wife.”

  “Luckily his wife is an excellent baker.” Tye grinned.