by Nan O'Berry
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Soon,” Charity repeated and with one last glance in his direction, she disappeared into the saloon.
Stone watched her slip inside the saloon before starting back toward the Hawkins house. Without Charity on his arm, the sunlight seemed more muted. With a sigh, he kicked at the clump of clay. Right now, Saturday seemed awfully far away.
He walked toward the bunkhouse deep in thought until Levi Hawkins voice turned his head.
“Stone.”
He glanced up.
“Stone,” Levi called again and lifted a hand. “Come here, son.”
Jogging over, he drew up before his employer. “Sir?”
“I want you to ride out to Ransom’s and Clay’s place. Let Emma’s family know as well to come to the party and perhaps stay a while.”
Stone’s expression grew sober. “Yes, sir.”
Levi glanced at the back door. “The missus just thinks you’re going to take these gifts to the ladies and remind them of the party. I want you to let the menfolk know what’s really going on.”
He nodded.
“Get your horse ready.”
Hurrying to the barn, he threw a saddle on the closest mount.
The dapple grey gave him a look of indifference.
“Hush Rogue,” he spoke drawing up the cinch. “We’ve a job to do, you and I. The quicker we get it done, the quicker you’ll be back for a good measure of oats.”
As if understanding, the animal nickered and flicked his head.
Stone reached for the bridle and slipped it over the horse’s head. Throat latch buckled, he led the horse from the stall and to the open lot in front of the barn. He didn’t have to wait long before Levi emerged, carrying two brown wrapped packages.
“I convinced my dear wife, that a basket would be too cumbersome on horseback.”
Stone nodded, yet to himself he would have liked to have been a fly on the wall with that conversation. “Thanks.” He flipped the buckle on his saddlebags open and stowed them away.
“The names are written on the paper, so you won’t get them mixed up.”
“I’ve got it.”
“Ready?”
“Yep.”
“Mount up,” Levi instructed in his usual directive tone.
Stone tossed the reins over Rogue’s head and with a foot in the stirrup drew himself up and into the saddle.
“Here.” Levi handed him the package and for a moment, he held on.
Stone glanced down waiting for his next order.
“Ride slow out of town,” Levi warned him. “I don’t want Pierson to get any idea we are circling the wagons so to speak. If he’s at the bottom of all this, I want him to make the first move.”
“Right.”
Levi let go.
Stone placed the bundle beneath his arm. With a tug of his hat, he turned his mount toward the west end of town.
Once out of sight of the prying eyes of the town folk, Stone tapped Rogue’s sides and the dapple gray broke into an easy gallop. The gelding’s long strides ate up the miles between the express station and Ransom.
Pulling into the yard, Stone caught sight of his friend coming from the barn.
“Stone.” Ransom’s hand rose in greeting. He put the pitchfork he’d been using against the door and hurried to the yard where Stone sat on his mount. “Good to see you.” He smiled.
“Same here.” Leaning down, Stone extended his hand and the two shook. “You coming to the party?”
Ransom nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it. Dell is looking forward to talking to Mrs. Hawkins and Anna.” He folded his arms across his chest. “It’s hard on her out here with only her dad and me to talk to.” He glanced toward the house and a small shadow crossed his features. “She’s been downright emotional these past weeks. I think getting away from here for a few days will do her good.”
“I know Mrs. Hawkins is looking forward to having everyone home.”
Ransom’s mouth tugged to a smile. “Home. Yeah,” He lifted his hat and brushed back the damp hair beneath. “It does seem more like home than where I grew up. I can’t wait to see Levi.”
The door to the cabin opened and Dell moved into the daylight. Spying Stone, her face broke into a huge smile. “Stone! What a surprise.”
Stone stepped down from the saddle and waited as she moved toward them.
Ransom stepped beside his bride and slid an arm around her shoulder.
“It’s so good to see you.” she beamed.
“You are looking good, Dell.” Stone nodded.
“Getting prettier every day,” Ransom murmured.
Dell blushed and shoved him with her elbow. “You mean getting bigger.”
He chuckled. “I love it.”
“Oh, Mrs. Hawkins sent some things for you both.”Stone reached into his saddle bags and pulled the package entrusted to him. “She told me to say she can’t wait to see you and hopes that you’ll be staying a few days longer.”
“Oh.” Dell reached for the brown paper wrapped package. Not waiting, she tore the covering away and looked at the fabric. “Both pink and blue.” She turned and smiled at Ransom. “Just in case….”
“In case.” He winked.
Her gaze moved back to Stone. “Can you stay for supper?”
Stone shook his head. “Wish I could, I have to get to Clay’s place.”
“Well, I’ve got some leftover chicken from yesterday. If you wait, I can bring you a leg or two to tie you over?”
“Your fried chicken? I will wait.”
Laughing, she moved away her eyes still clutching the fabric to her chest.
Stone looked over at his friend. “I can’t believe you are going to be a father.”
Ransom rubbed his neck. “Me either.”
They watched Dell retreat to the inside of the house.
Then, Ransom turned to Stone. “Everything going okay for you?”
Stone gave a nod. “Can’t complain, I do my route but more and more, I’m glad to come back to the station.”
Ransom’s eyes widened. “Really? What’s so important at the station?”
All too quickly, Stone realized he’d give more information that he liked to admit. He shrugged his shoulders. “You know, get back with the guys?”
Ransom glanced at the ground and gave a rough chuckle. “I find it hard to believe a bunkhouse full of hardened faces makes you happy to return.” He leaned back. “No, I would bet my bottom dollar that it is a much prettier face.”
Stone could feel heat rise into his cheeks.
“I knew it.” Ransom grinned. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Here you go,” Dell called from the doorway. “Ransom, you come and sit down and eat a quick bite with Stone. Work can wait.”
“You heard the boss.” Ransom grinned. He slapped his open palm onto Stone’s shoulder. “One thing you learn, my friend, is when the wife speaks you follow directions. She’ll not rest until she gets you fed for your journey.”
Together, the two walked toward the covered porch where Dell stood waiting.
Stone decided to fill Ransom in as Levi instructed, as soon as Dell left them a moment alone.
Charity had seen Stone ride out earlier. Her heart seemed empty as if the warmth had disappeared from Three Rivers. She wrapped her arms around her torso and hoped the warmth might bolster her loneliness. Standing at the window, she could hear the swish of the boom as Ruby brushed away the dirt and sand that made its way onto the front porch.
“I need to find something to do.” Turning, she made her way down the back stairs to the kitchen. She stood quietly at the doorway
Old Mike kept rattling the glasses as he cleaned up from last night’s gaiety. “You going to stand there all day, or help?”
Charity couldn’t help but grin.
Mike turned and gave her a gawking stare. “Get yourself an apron. You can dry while I wash.”
“Sure.” Charity walked in and grabbed the worn apron on
the hook next to the door. Pulling the strap over her head, she laced the ends around her and tied them in a bow at the front. Moving next to old Mike, she picked up a towel and began to dry.
Old Mike was probably no more than fifty some years of age, but in his youth he must have lived hard. His wiry hair no longer held color. Instead, the strands had long since turned to the color of gun metal gray. His gnarled hands gripped the edge of a tray and held it up so that the ivory bubbles could drain back into the pan. “Dip it, then dry it off.”
“Yes, sir.”
Working together, the two developed a good rhythm. Once the first tray was empty, Mike brushed the dampness from his fingers by dragging them along his apron. Grasping the dishpan, he lifted it and carried the pan toward the back door, casting the dirty water out, and onto the ground. Mike paused and spit a stream of tobacco juice in its wake. Shifting the plug of tobacco to his other cheek, his eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “Hear you are leaving.”
Charity glanced in his direction. “Yes.” She swept the towel around the tray and placed it on the shelf behind her.
“Humph. You think that’s wise?”
“I want more, Mike. I don’t want to deal cards anymore.”
For a moment, the old miner thought about her words. “Can’t blame ya.” He shuffled back to the sink. “Ain’t no fun working at a saloon. Specially, in this here town.”
Charity stacked several glasses one on top of the other and slid them on the table behind her.
“When you leaving?”
She gave a shrug of her shoulders. “I’m not sure. I have to find a place to live.”A tentative glance over her shoulder, she summed up her courage and spoke, “Mike, there’s an old house by the river.”
“You must be talking about the old Miller place.”
She nodded. “The one behind the saloon here.”
Mike glanced out the door. “Yep. Old man Miller came to Three Rivers when it wasn’t more than an Injun encampment.” He gave a gruff laugh. “Folks over at Fort Valor thought he was a might touched in the head. But, Miller was smart.” Mike pointed a finger at his own forehead as if to emphasize the narrative. “He began to build a corn mill. It was his hopes to make a fortune turning the grain into meal.”He paused to lift another pan of dishes onto the counter.
Charity watched him. “What happened to him?”
The dishes rattled as he set them down with little care. “He won’t no farmer. Couldn’t wrangle a cow if he were given instructions. But, the man knew how to find a good vein of silver. When the boom ran out, they moved west to the next strike.”
“And left the house.”
Mike nodded.
Charity picked up a glass. Her mind began to wonder back to the conversation with Olivia. She needed a place of her own. A house that was abandoned might be cheaper than renting one of the cabins down where the miners stayed. It would also put Pierson at least a street away from her and behind the Crystal Dawn.
“If you are thinking about that house, best see Mr. Merrick. He bought the property. He just might give you a mighty fair price. Of course, it’s gonna take a lot of work to make it livable again. Right now, only skunks, possums, and raccoons seem to dwell there.”
Charity swallowed as she gave a flickering glance to the rusted and faded tin roof in the distance.
“You could do it, Miss Charity. There’s folks that would help you. McMasters, the boys at the relay station. Why, even me.”
His remarks put the smile back on her face. Charity put down the cloth and glass and stepped beside him. “Thank you, Mike.” Rising on her tip toes, she planted a soft kiss on his bearded cheek.
To her surprise, he blushed. “Awe, Miss Charity.”
Still smiling, she drew the sash loose and slipped the apron off, then heading toward the door, Charity called back, “I won’t be long, Mike, I want to get a look at this house.”
“You want me to get my scatter gun and follow you?”
“I’ll be okay.”
The sun touched and warmed her shoulders even though the air was cool. Moving past the trees that blocked sight of the saloon, she continued toward the river’s bend. With each step, the faded white porch came closer into view. Charity paused at the gate. Once, a long time ago, someone had painted it blue. But the baking sun and the cold winter wind had long since faded the color.
She looked down at the gate on the picket fence that seemed to be hanging by one hinge and with a gentle touch pushed it open. It squeaked in protest but allowed her to walk by. An overgrown scraggly rose bush sat perched before the left hand edge of the house like a cat arching its back in an attempt to keep others from entering.
“Don’t worry,” Charity whispered. “I don’t want to hurt your home. I want to bring it back.”
Two steps up and she encountered the porch. The boards would need to be replaced. She inched her toe onto the surface and tested its strength. Finding it able to hold her weight, she crossed to the door. She turned the handle but the door budged only a fraction of an inch. Leaning her shoulder against the wood, she took a deep breath and pushed. The bottom of the door groaned in protest as it gave up ground and fell back.
Cobwebs staked their claim to the archway that led to the rear of the house. Stepping inside, she looked at the fireplace and the curved wall that looked out onto the porch. It didn’t take much to imagine sitting in the light, sewing on a new design. Another vision wormed its way into her day dream, one where a handsome man with dark, wavy hair sat warming his feet by the fire. She brushed the dust from the mantle and wondered what Stone would say.
“Well, well, well, look what finally came out into the light?”
Charity’s hand froze.
Pierson!
“You weren’t invited.”
Her comment made him chuckle.
Listening, she could hear his footsteps as he drew closer to where she stood.
“Nice house.”
Charity turned to look at him.
His hands brushed back the coat to rest on his hips just below his vest. Pierson turned his head to gaze around the room before resting his eyes once again upon her. “Plan on playing house, Charity?”
“That’s none of your business.”
He lifted the left edge of his lip in a mocking smile. His eyes narrowed as he moved closer. “I can give you so much more.”
She turned her gaze away and stared at the grain of the wood showing through the paint. “I’m not interested.”
“Sure.”
She moved toward the opening that led to the kitchen determined to put distance between her and the freight owner.
“My.” He breathed deep and turned to look out the window. “Such a long way from the saloon. Don’t you think it’s quite dangerous? I mean a woman with your reputation.” He turned to look over his shoulder. “Men might think you’re free and easy.”
She swallowed and met his gaze with one of her own. “Please leave me alone, Pierson. You have no right to follow me here.”
“Ah, but, if I were that young pony express rider, it would be different wouldn’t it?”
Charity said nothing.
Pierson gave a dark chuckle. “Dangerous times, Miss Mitchell, these are dangerous times. A man can die so easily. Why, just look at what happened to Mr. Whitley and to poor Mr. Davidson. Your friend could be attacked by the hostiles or his horse could step in a gopher hole and break a leg. Wouldn’t it be terrible to die of a broken neck?”
Charity could feel the terror rising. “You-You leave him alone.”
Pierson walked to where she stood.
She turned her back to him afraid that he could see the fear in her eyes. His hands found her shoulders. It wasn’t like Stone’s touch. There was no warmth, just a clutch like steel. He must have leaned close; she could feel the heat of his breath and turned her head away.
“We could make a deal, you and me,” he whispered. “Something of advantage to each of us.”
Anger boil
ed inside of her. She wrenched her shoulders from his grasp and whirled to face him. Her stomach twisted in revulsion. “A deal? A deal? Just like what you offered to that girl in Frisco? Then you beat her. You beat her till she died. Tell me Pierson, did it make you feel big?”
Hatred smeared across his face. His hand came up ready to strike.
Charity stepped back and turned her face away, awaiting the blow. To her surprise, it didn’t come.
“Hey, Charity?” Anna called out. “Charity? Are you there?”
Pierson’s head turned. His arm lowered.
“You better leave.”
He dropped his arm completely and turned.
For a moment, she waited afraid there would be another outburst.
Instead, he glanced at the doorway then turned with a smirk. “I guess you win this round, Charity.”
She held her breath and watched as he moved toward the opening just as Anna bounded up to the door.
The young girl stopped. Her eyes growing round as she gazed from Charity to Pierson.
“Don’t worry, Anna, come on in. Mr. Pierson is on his way out. Aren’t you?” Charity challenged.
Pierson looked back at her. There was nothing but malice in his cold hard eyes. “This house will take a lot of work, Miss Mitchell.” He stared at Anna before turning his gaze back to Charity. “Let me know if I can help.” His gaze moved from her toes to her head.
Suddenly, Charity felt dirty.
“We can work out a payment schedule.” He laughed.
Pushing past Anna, Pierson left the house.
Charity stood in the silence wondering if she’d ever be truly free of men like Pierson. She’d forgotten Anna was at the door until the young girl gave a knock on the wood. Putting a smile on her face, she turned to greet her. “Sorry, Anna, Pierson just needed someone to bully. So, what brings you over here?”
Anna stepped into the house. “I saw him coming over and thought you might need some company.”
“You did, did you?” Charity gave a chuckle. “Is that all?”
Anna shook her head. “No. Stone told me to look out after you. You know he’s in love with you.”
Startled, Charity stared at the Hawkins daughter. “How do you know?”
Anna took a deep breath. “I know. I might be just a no more than a child in Momma and Daddy’s eyes, but I know what I see in a man’s eyes. Stone has that look when he looks at you. I hope someday, someone special will look at me like that.”
