Lily was moved by all the attention and the fact that near strangers were willing to spend a long, hot day helping her. Her cheeks heated up so much she was tempted to reach into her satchel and find her fan. When she glanced up she found both John and Dustin staring at her.
“I don’t know what to say. It is such a generous offer.”
“Mother, look,” Becky said, coming forward. She shyly touched the cuff at the end of Lily’s sleeve. “Did you notice the lace work? Lily, I hope you don’t mind me pointing this out. We were looking for Rosepoint Lace the last time we went into Abilene. Did you do this work yourself?”
“Go on, Lily,” both John and Dustin said at the same time. They looked at each other for a fleeting second and then looked away.
An awkward moment of silence descended.
“Yes, I did. My sisters and I all learned to make lace from an early age in Germany. By hand with only a needle. My mother is incredibly talented. She handed her love of it down to us.”
“It’s beautiful,” Winnie said, taking a closer look. “The finest I’ve ever seen. I’m sure we’ll be some of your first customers when you open.”
John’s smile sent tingles down to her toes. “It was Lily who sewed up my wound,” he said, pointing to the red line, which was still tender looking, on his face. “She did a fine job, too.”
Uncle Winston jumped in. “Tools and such, do you have any? Paint brushes, scrapers, hammers and saws. Nails and screwdrivers. If not, the boys can bring ‘em out.”
She looked at John for the answer.
“Yeah, that would be helpful. I don’t know yet what Bixby has around here in the way of carpentry things,” he said, then laughed at the absurdity of the statement as he waved his arm wide. “Except all this.”
Everyone laughed.
John looked over to where Tucker and Bixby were taking in money quickly, then glanced back at Lily, his eyebrows arched in question.
“I guess we better get to work,” Lily said. “While there’s still something to do. It was a pleasure to meet all of you.”
The group moved away. “See you tomorrow,” Becky said, as she waved.
Chapter Nineteen
“Whoa,” the stage driver shouted out, pulling back on the reins. The tired horses came to an abrupt stop in front of the same Wells Fargo stage office where John and Lily’s coach had halted eleven days prior. The stage jerked a couple times, settling in, and Charity heard the driver press the foot brake down with crushing force. “Rio Wells,” he called out sharply.
An employee came out and opened the door for Charity and Theodore. “Have any problems between Draper Bottom and here?”
“Trouble?” Theodore asked. He’d been the first one out and reached up to assist Charity.
“No,” she said, waving Theodore’s hand away and climbing out easily on her own. “Why do you ask?”
“Three people were killed not too long ago coming in from the East.”
Charity looked around, taking in the dirty-looking street and the hotel across it. Well, that was certainly reason enough to ask. She was glad she hadn’t known that news before, during the hours of solitude out in the badlands. Then when his words registered, she gasped. “From the East?”
He nodded. “Two men and a woman. She was to be the new teacher here in Rio Wells. Come all the way out from New York only to be murdered the day before reaching town.”
Charity grasped the man by the arm as he turned to go back into the stage office, stopping him n his tracks. His surprised face gaped at her.
“Do you know the men’s names? The ones that were killed?”
“No miss, I don’t.” He pulled free and walked quickly away.
In a panic, Charity glanced around the town but didn’t see anyone else to question. She ran into the stage office as she heard her trunk hit the dirt behind her, tossed down by the guard. She was disappointed to find that the man she’d already questioned was the only one there.
“Is there anyone else here who might know the names of the men who were killed?”
“No, miss, it’s Sunday. I’m the only one here.”
Theodore came up to her side. “Charity what’s wrong? Why are you so upset?”
“Because I’ve had this bad feeling for a while that something awful has happened to my brother and now this man tells me that three of the passengers last week were killed. What if one was John?”
“Where is everyone today, anyway? The town seems deserted,” Theodore asked, without answering Charity’s question.
The clerk reached under the counter and brought out a two sheet newspaper and opened to the center fold. He turned it upside-down so the newcomers could read it. “Big sale today down on Dry Street. That’s just around the corner. Lots of things being sold off at a fraction of the cost. Everyone’s over there.”
Charity ran out without saying another word. “Come on, Theodore,” she called, picking up her trunk with strong arms, intending to take it with her.
The driver stopped her before Theodore could. “Give me that before you hurt yourself, miss.” He grasped it and had to tug several times before she finally let go. “I’ll take this to the hotel across the street and they’ll hold it for you until you decide what you’re going to do.” His eyes were still round that she’d handled the heavy box so easily.
“Thank you,” she called as she took off at a run. Theodore was following behind. Within moments she was close to the corner and she could hear laughter and talking. Rounding the street she stopped dead in her tracks. Why, it must be the whole town of Rio Wells and then some. If she had to guess there must be near three hundred people looking at a street full of junk. She plunged into the throng of townsfolk, looking back and forth.
She stopped in front of a man who was looking at an extraordinarily large bottle of molasses. “Excuse me, sir. Do you know a man named John McCutcheon?”
He paused to look at Charity. “John McCutcheon? No. I know Winston and his sons, though.”
“Do you see them here anywhere?”
He straightened and looked around for a few minutes. “Sorry, no. But that don’t mean they aren’t here. I can’t see everyone, you know.”
“Yes, I know,” she answered as she moved on. Her heart was getting heavier by the second.
“Charity, wait up,” Theodore called as she pushed her way through the crowd.
“Why, Bixby, you ol’ goat. This man wants to give you two dollars for that old clock. I think you’re getting a heck of a deal.”
Charity stopped at the sound of familiar laughter. She turned in the direction and scanned the people. Gasping, she all but ran and vaulted into John’s arms, almost knocking him over.
He had to set her away to see who it was. “Charity!”
“I was so sure you were dead,” she said, barely getting the words past her strangled throat. She squeezed tightly, making sure he wasn’t a figment of her imagination and would be gone when she opened her eyes. “You’re alive. You’re really here.” She stepped back and opened one eye slowly, fearfully. “Aren’t you?”
Just then Theodore burst through the crowd and ran into Charity’s back knocking her back into John’s arms.
“What the heck is going on here?” the old man next to John asked loudly. “Who is this young woman?”
John set Charity away again but by the stricken look on her face he knew that she’d noticed the ugly red line running from his hairline to the center of his ear. “This is my baby sister,” he said proudly. “Charity, meet Dr. Bixby, the man I’ll be replacing someday.” He winked at the old man. “We don’t know when that day is just yet, but that’s all right.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said without much conviction. She reached up as if she were going to touch John’s face, but didn’t. Her expression was soft, sad. “What happened?”
“Our stage was attacked. I made it, but three others didn’t.”
Lily was watching from a few feet away. He waved her over.
“This is Emmeline, then?” Lily asked, coming to stand by his side.
John let out a bark of a laugh that grabbed everyone’s attention. Heads turned in their direction. He shook his head. “No. This is my sister, Charity McCutcheon. She surprised me. She made the trip all the way from Montana by herself.” He looked at her and then glanced around at the people. “You did come alone, didn’t you? I haven’t seen Luke or Matt or anyone.”
“No,” a voice called out. “I came with her, John. Do you remember me?”
A tall young man stepped forward, a worried expression marring his face. The face was familiar to John but he couldn’t quite place from where. “Uhhh.”
“It’s Theodore Browning, “Charity piped up. “You know Leonard Browning from Y Knot. He’s the attorney for the ranch.”
“I’ll be, Theodore. You’ve grown two feet since I saw you last. I have to admit I would not have placed you on my own. How old are you now?”
“Twenty.”
“Well, welcome to Rio Wells. You too, Charity. Gosh, I’m happy to see you.” He gestured toward Lily. “This is Lily Anthony from Boston. Dr. Bixby.” He pointed past Bixby. “That’s Tucker Nobel. All the town’s people that have come out to support our sale.” John caught sight of Mr. Shellston watching them from the other side of the street with interest. When the man noticed John looking his way, the banker walked off.
“Where are your things?” he asked.
“I left them at the hotel.”
“Good. I think that’s the best place for you now unless you want to be crowded in with us at the office.” He shook his head. “Don’t think you’d like that. Depending on how long you stay we’ll work out other arrangements.” He laughed, still delighted at seeing his baby sister. “For now we have to get back to work.”
“Dr. McCutcheon,” a female voice called, as a slender young woman made her way through the people.
“Hello, Louise,” he replied. “Louise is the postmistress and works across the street from the hotel,” he said to Charity. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for some new dishes, at a good price, of course.” Her brows rose in hopeful interest.
John pointed. “Right over in the corner. I think there are several sets.”
A smile blossomed on Charity’s lips. She gestured at Theodore. “We can help too. With more of us working, these things will be gone all the faster.”
Chapter Twenty
A handful of shoppers mulled around, the majority of Dr. Bixby’s collection of eclectic stuff, gone. “Okay,” John said as he motioned the workers to gather around. “Let’s finish up and get the remainder of the items off the street before night falls. We don’t want to be accused of creating an eyesore. There’s not much. We can put it round back, in the alley for now.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Bixby said. “Why don’t we give the remaining things to the Grady’s to sell in the mercantile? To make amends. Maybe we’ll get back into their good graces. They’ve been fine neighbors all these years and I hate to see our friendship deteriorate over this.”
John nodded. “Good idea, Bixby.”
“I haven’t seen ‘em leave yet,” the old doctor replied. “I’ll go ask. If they agree we can take it over now and be done with it. “ He handed John the cash he’d been collecting and headed down the boardwalk toward the mercantile. Tucker also gave the cash he had to John, who combined it with the money in his pockets. The wad was so large he had to use two hands. “I’ll take this inside. Come on, let’s go in.”
Harriett greeted them at the door looking rested and happy. “How did the big sale go?” she asked the young women as they entered.
“Good, Tante. It was a success.”
The group crowded into the waiting room and filtered into the kitchen, where a tea kettle was just starting to let off some steam. Whistling pierced the air. “I’m having tea. Would anyone else like some?”
John opened the cupboard drawer and stuffed the cash inside. “I think Doc Bixby should have the honors of counting the take when he gets back. Without all his stuff this wouldn’t have been possible.”
John pulled out a chair for Lily and she sat at the table with the two boys. “So, Theodore,” he said, “what brings you to Rio Wells?”
Theodore’s face reddened a bit then he spoke up, “I wanted to try something new.”
John looked over his shoulder at Charity to see if she had anything to add. She’d traveled in the stage with him for the past week. She shrugged.
“I’d like to find employment,” the young man added. “You wouldn’t need any help in the doctor’s office, would you? Help of any kind? I’m good with numbers and office type work. I’ve had experience at my pa’s place.” The young man’s gaze moved slowly over to where Charity was standing and all of a sudden John thought he might know the reason for Theodore’s journey.
“Hmm. We have Tucker here already. That’s something I’d have to give some thought to, being I’m so new. I’ll let you know.”
Just then Bixby came in the back door. “Boys, girls, the Grady’s will be happy to take the rest of the stuff off our hands. Let’s get it moved to their back door. They’ll take it inside.”
Everyone stood up to go, including Lily.
“Wait, Lily, I want to talk with you,” John said. He signaled for the others to go ahead.
“You should take Harriett back to the hotel,” John suggested. “It’s been a long day and she looks tired.”
“But I’d rather help with the clean up.”
“I appreciate that, but now with Charity and Theodore we have plenty of able bodies to help. And, besides, what else do I have to do today? I don’t see a drove of patients breaking down my door for services.” He laughed. “Just get Harriett back and get her something to eat. Soon your dream of having your own shop will be realized. And, tomorrow is going to be a long and busy day. You should rest up, too.”
“All right. But only because of my aunt. It does not feel right to have all of you doing all the work.”
“I understand.”
“Good. I am not one of those little figurines of a milking maid I have seen in china shop windows. You know the ones, with a little kerchief on her head and a milk bucket in her hand? I am not made of porcelain. I will not break.”
John couldn’t stop the grin that was wobbling his mouth.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She was eyeing him suspiciously. “Oh, just in case you’d ever need it, the combination to my safe is—ten, ten, thirteen”
“Why?”
“Just to be cautious. One never knows when trouble might strike. It’s the numerical equivalent to JJM—John Jake McCutcheon—in case you forget. If anything were to happen to me, I want you to be able to get to it. Who knows, the jewel could actually belong to Harriett.” He placed his hand on the small of Lily’s back and encouraged her toward the door. “Now, go on.”
The sun dipped behind the distant peaks as John sat relaxing on the porch of his office, enjoying the peacefulness of the now quiet street. It felt good to rest and just do nothing. Gave him a moment of solitude to examine his feelings about his life and living it in this new town, among other things. In about an hour, after Charity had time to clean up, he’d head over to the hotel and pick her up and they would go to dinner and catch up on things at the ranch. He was glad she’d taken the matter into her own hands and come for a visit, even if she had almost surprised the life out of him. Still, he couldn’t get over his parents letting her come all this way on her own—well, with the company of Theodore Browning, he corrected himself.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Bixby said, striking a match and lighting the lantern hanging next to his shingle. John had yet to hang his.
John scoffed good-naturedly. “You don’t know me well enough yet to recognize if I’m being quiet or not.”
“I do, indeed,” he replied matter-of-factly. “What’s on your mind?” Bixby took his time p
ulling another chair closer to where John lounged, and sat down.
A few moments passed before John said, “A lot of things.” He crossed his legs out in front of him and laced his fingers behind his head. The street was near vacant being it was Sunday and most people would be sitting down soon to supper. The pungent air, thick from the mineral spring, coiled around him. It was a far cry from the crisp mountain freshness he’d grown up with, filled with scents of pine and wild grass, but he was resigned to embrace his new life with an open mind.
“Lily Anthony being one of them?”
John looked over at the old man and slowly shook his head amazed at the old man’s astuteness. “Could be.”
“She’s a pretty one, McCutcheon. Nice, too. You could do a lot worse.”
Was he that transparent that everyone could see what he was thinking? And feeling? He’d made no overt advances toward the young woman or spent that much time with her since reaching Rio Wells—well, maybe he’d spent a lot of time with her, but her aunt was his patient. What was he supposed to do? “I suppose you’re right.”
“So. What’s stopping you?”
“You’re one irritating old man, Bixby. Anyone ever tell you that before?” The white kitten jumped from the roof of the telegraph office across the street, landed on some crates stacked three high, and then made for her master. “I’m just sitting here minding my own personal business and you come out and give me the third degree.”
Bixby picked the kitten up when she reached his feet and stroked her back. She started to purr. “Well?”
“There’s someone else.”
He stopped stroking and looked over at him. “Who?”
“My intended in Boston.”
Bixby gave a low whistle and resumed the affection he was giving to the kitten. “Well, that changes things, don’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want it to change things?”
John looked at the man. “What do you mean? Change things so I can proceed with Lily or change with Lily and proceed with Emmeline?”
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