AUTHOR'S NOTES:
"Maria Bennett" and all original material included in this story are the creations of Darcie Daniels.
Thanks to Deb, as always. You're the best cheerleader around, sweetie.
This story came about while I was listening to Maria Callas sing "Casta Diva." That song describes one of the heroines in this story (and it ain't Maria.)
Setting: May 1881
Maria tried to hold back her tears, but it was no use. The story was just too good. She daintily dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief as she sat reading upon Mr. Call's bench.
Mr. Call was asleep. It was too bad, in Maria's opinion. She was sure that he liked to be read to, especially when the story was this good. She shrugged, supposing that it could not be helped. Maria turned back to her reading.
She sniffed. The story was so romantic. Maria knew that millions of women cried while reading it, too. It was a bona fide classic.
She finished the last pages and moaned at the tragic end. It was so piteous, so heart-breaking ... Maria could not stop her tears. It was a bad thing to wear glasses at such a time. Tears always welled at the bottom of the glass.
She began to clean her glasses as Mr. Call woke up from his mid-day slumber. She still sniffed, speechless over such tragedy. He looked over to her in concern.
"Something ailing you?"
Maria replaced her glasses, this time dabbing her nose with handkerchief. "Oh, Newton--" she began, unable continue. How could she explain such misery? She pointed to the volume in her hand. "This story ... this story is so ... so good!"
He looked at her as if she was crazy. "If it's so good, why you crying then?"
Maria knew he couldn't possibly understand. He was a man. Men only cried when they had a toothache. Instead, she merely quoted, '"For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.'"
He grunted. "Huh, mush."
"It is not," Maria protested. "Just picture it: Juliet takes this potion to make it appear like she's dead, and then Romeo, not knowing she's really comatose, takes poison to end his life. Juliet wakes up, she sees that her true love is dead, and she then stabs herself. 'Oh, happy dagger,' she moans, and then she falls over in a heap. It is so sad."
Mr. Call harrumphed. "Sounds crazy to me. What fool person would take something to look like they're dead? About as likely as having poison on hand to do yourself in. Sounds like something those traveling shows put on. Never did trust a man in tights."
Maria appealed silently to God for patience. Her poor blood brother had little sense of culture or refinement. "It is highly romantic, no matter what you might think." Then she smiled mischievously at him. "Why, you ought to fashion yourself after Romeo and woo some damsel with words of love and poetry. I can see it now. As you wax in iambic pentameter, you fearlessly shoot off any of her other callers with your pistol. Ah, it gladdens the heart."
Maria could not help giggling at the thought. Mr. Call looked disgruntled.
"I ain't wooing no girl," he argued when she was quite finished. His blue eyes looked off aloofly.
Maria looked at him for a moment. Then she sighed. Her poor blood brother was still not over the loss of Hannah. He knew about agony and suffering since her death. His story had no romantic appeal to it at all.
"Perhaps Juliet should have gone on living without her Romeo. It would have been the brave thing to do," Maria concluded softly.
Mr. Call's eyes returned to her, disgusted. "Don't take no courage to breath in and out."
Then he stood and stalked away from her.
Tears welled in Maria's eyes as she watched him leave.
She threw her volume to the side. His story was sadder than anything Shakespeare had ever written.
She shook her head, clearing away her tears. Her poor blood brother needed her help, but what could she do? Her attempts at matching him with Miss Mattie Shaw came to no good, and besides, Miss Shaw was in Miles City. Perhaps if she could only contrive some reason to visit Miss Shaw there ... but what could she say to bring Miss Shaw back?
Then Maria saw Miss Florie walk towards the dry goods store. The beautiful dark-haired woman was radiant. Expectancy clearly agreed with her.
Well, Maria thought. It would be safe to bring back Miss Shaw now. Mr. Mosby clearly could not pursue the blond woman when everyone knew that Miss Florie carried his baby. Maria sighed, sadly remembering the day she learned of Miss Florie's pregnancy. The news broke Maria's heart. Maria wondered if she could ever love another man other than Mr. Mosby. Mr. Mosby was truly one of the best men she ever knew.
Yet, Maria wondered why he had not married Miss Florie. He was building a house for her on the other end of town, so surely he must have some kind of plans for the beautiful brunette. Maria sadly remembered at one time how she wished that Mr. Mosby would build a house for her ...
Maria shook her head. She could not think of such things now. Her family was more important than her own silly romantic notions. She had to do what was best for them, not think about what might have been.
But what to do about Mr. Call? Was it possible that she could get him to take her to Miles City to visit Miss Shaw? Surely he would resist the idea, even if he did not guess her match-making plans for him and Miss Shaw.
No, Maria thought. It won't work. There was no way that Mr. Call would fall for it. For the present, Miss Shaw was out of reach. Maria needed to focus on matching him with someone else. But who?
If there was one woman on earth that Maria could have picked for Mr. Call, it was clear that Miss Enona Horn was not it. The woman had a layer of dust on her a mile thick, and her long blond hair was matted with sweat and grime. It had only been three days since the blond woman had come into town with a dead man in tow, and she was presumably there to collect his bounty. Although Maria could not begrudge her Mr. Call's profession, it clearly was not a ladylike thing to do. Besides, Maria knew that if truly came down to it, Miss Horn could whip her in a fight.
Yet that was all she knew of Miss Horn ... that she was a woman bounty hunter with a wild look in her eye. Maria could not get any information from Mr. Call about her. Indeed, she could not talk to him at all. The two bounty hunters were like best friends - always in each other's company. Maria had never seen anything so singular ... Mr. Call never took to anybody.
Indeed, she still could not believe it as she spied them from inside Mr. Creel's general store. The bounty hunters were walking down the street, intent in conversation. Maria could not guess what they were talking about, but they seemed to be arguing. Mr. Call's bright eyes flashed, and Miss Horn moved to walk away. Then they turned towards her.
Maria dodged from their sight, nearly knocking over some glassware. She steadied herself and the glass as all eyes in the store centered on her. Mr. Creel quickly moved away from the counter and placed the endangered items away from her reach. Then he returned to Mr. Mosby and Mr. Shelby. Maria felt her face go red.
The men looked at her in amusement for a moment and then returned to their conversation with Mr. Creel. Mr. Creel continued to eye her warily.
Maria shook her head. She could not be bothered with such things. She had to know what was going on outside with Mr. Call and Miss Horn. She spied out the window once again. She stomped her foot. They were gone. Her near clumsiness cost her the chance of knowing what happening.
She shrugged, returning to her shopping. It really was a bother when no one would tell her anything.
She was fingering some yarn when she heard something shift on the top shelf. She had no time to duck as a big bolt of fabric came crashing down on her head.
The next thing she knew that she was on the floor. Mr. Mosby, Mr. Shelby, and Mr. Creel crouched at her side.
"Are you all right?" she heard Mr. Shelby's concerned voice ask her.
Dazed, Maria sat looking at the fabric by her side. "It's blue," she muttered.
"Here, help her up," Mr. Mosby suggested. The men gently took her arms and raised her upright. Mr. Creel began to straighten the bolt of fabric.
"I didn't touch it," Maria told Mr. Creel quickly, proclaiming her complete innocence in the matter.
Mr. Mosby hid a small smile. "She's fine, I think. No damage done."
Maria could not believe her luck. The two Southern men were always witnessing her most embarrassing moments.
"Perhaps you ought to see Dr. Cleese, Miss Bennett, just in case," Mr. Mosby kindly suggested. "We can escort you there, if you like."
Maria shook her head. It was likely that an anvil would drop from the sky on her head, and she did not need the two handsome Southerners to witness any of her further humiliations. "No, I'm quite all right. Thank you, though."
Mr. Mosby nodded and then turned to Mr. Shelby. "Coming, Robert?"
Mr. Shelby continued to regard her. "In a moment."
Mr. Mosby glanced at his friend, then to Maria, and back at Mr. Shelby. He nodded and left.
"Please allow me to escort you outside, Miss Bennett," Mr. Shelby told her, offering her his arm.
Mr. Creel looked at both of them warily. He apparently regarded the former fugitive and the walking catastrophe with suspicion.
Maria frowned at the storekeeper. She had money, and if she needed to, she would take her business to a catalog. She had patience.
Mr. Creel saw her displeasure and smiled in appeasement. He knew that she was one of the richest women in town.
Maria shook her head and took Mr. Shelby's arm, eager to leave. She hated feeling like she had done something wrong when she had not.
It was a relief to walk out into the fresh, spring air. It was warmer than usual, and thankfully, all the mud had been gone for weeks. It was safe to cross the street again.
"My, my," Mr. Shelby grinned at her. "I must say things do happen to you, don't they?"
Maria blushed once again, remembering the fabric bolt and how he saw her shoeless a month ago.
"I'm afflicted with Mr. Call's disease, I think," she said, referring to the bolt of fabric. "Things keep hitting him on the head, too."
Mr. Shelby frowned in confusion. Then he looked over to the empty bench in disgust. "He's a bounty hunter."
Maria yanked her arm away from his. "He's my blood brother," she hissed.
Mr. Shelby's eyes narrowed. "You can forgive me if I don't care for bounty hunters, Miss Bennett."
Just then, they heard the click of a gun.
"Shelby," Miss Enona Horn growled, aiming her pistol at the Southern man. "You're coming with me."
Maria stared at her in alarm. Mr. Shelby did not even raise his arms, but his eyes glowered at the woman bounty hunter. Mr. Call stepped in front of them.
"It's all right. He's been cleared."
Miss Horn remained still. "I tracked him for months round Kalispell way. Bastard got away."
Mr. Call looked back to Mr. Shelby. Mr. Shelby did not move. Mr. Call's eyes returned to Miss Horn. "Don't matter none anyhow. He's a free man now."
Miss Horn frowned, and then let her finger off the trigger. She regarded Mr. Shelby from head to toe. "Yeah, but probably not for long."
Miss Horn stalked away. Mr. Call followed her.
Maria sighed in relief.
"I don't care for bounty hunters, Miss Bennett," Mr. Shelby repeated, staring after the blond couple. Then he turned and tipped his hat to her. He stalked away in the opposite direction.
Maria pinched the corner of her inner eyes. She had a headache.
##
Maria's eyes narrowed as she watched them from over the rim of her book. She knew it was rude to spy, but this was important. Mr. Call and Miss Horn were sitting at a table at the Lonesome Dove Hotel eating dinner.
Maria observed the two of them. They both ate without regards to proper table etiquette, and Maria could swear that Mr. Call's personal hygiene was on the decline since the arrival of the woman bounty hunter. The longhaired woman had a small piece of straw in her locks. Mr. Call had a corresponding mate tucked in the wrinkles of his shirt.
Maria's jaw dropped. Miss Horn was staying at a room in the hotel. The very least they could have done was use it. Anyone could have walked in upon them in the livery.
The bounty hunters were in an intense personal discussion. Maria longed to know what they were talking about, but they spoke in whispers. Maria was pleased to note that their conversation did not appear to be the hushed tones of lovers. No looks of longing or intimacy were exchanged, but rather they both had a thoughtful light upon their face. Maria decided that they were solving a mystery, yet she could not fathom what kind of problem they were trying to solve. If only they would talk a little louder, then perhaps she could hear. Maria briefly considered moving to another table, but repositioning herself might be misconstrued as obvious inference.
She sighed, resigning herself to observing the longhaired blond woman and the hold she seemed to have over her blood brother. Indeed, Maria had to admit that Miss Horn was beautiful. Why, the straw complimented the feather in her hair, and Miss Horn's blue eyes were nearly as bright as Mr. Call's. Not only was there a wildness in her looks, but there was a wildness in her very being.... Miss Horn had the look about her like a wounded animal.
Maria frowned. Wounded animals were dangerous, and it was just the very thing that Mr. Call's gentle nature would be attracted to. But could Mr. Call fall in love with this woman? What kind of woman was she really? Would Miss Horn break his already brittle heart into more shattered fragments?
A fierce sense of protection surged through Maria's body. She would not allow him to get hurt if she could help it. Maria would have to find out Miss Horn's intentions concerning her blood brother if it was the last thing she did.
She resolved herself to go confront them at that very instant when a man standing near her table interrupted her.
"Miss Bennett," Mr. Shelby said, hat in his hands. "I would like to ask for your forgiveness at my abruptness earlier today. I was distracted, I fear, and very rude. Please forgive me."
Maria barely heard him as she saw the two bounty hunters leave the hotel. She stamped her foot underneath the table. Now she would not find out about Miss Horn until perhaps the next day.
Maria bit her lip, and then looked up at the Southern gentleman. He knew a little about Miss Horn, surely. The woman bounty hunter apparently trailed him at some point in his past.
"Yes, yes," Maria smiled at him as charmingly as she could, gesturing for him to sit at her table. "Have you eaten, Mr. Shelby? Miss Carpenter serves some fine venison."
Mr. Shelby grinned at her. "Thank you, no, I've already eaten."
Maria frowned. How would she ever find out about Miss Horn? She could never catch the bounty hunters apart, and anyone she knew that was remotely connected with the blond woman could not give her any information.
"Later perhaps?" Mr. Shelby suggested. "Will you have dinner with me tomorrow?"
Maria always thought that Mr. Shelby ate his dinner with Mr. Mosby. "Won't your friend mind?" she asked, looking back at Mr. Mosby's usual table.
"Railroad executives will be here tomorrow. I'm sure he'll dine with them. He hardly requires my company for that."
Maria wondered if she heard bitterness in his voice, but Mr. Shelby did not seemed outwardly affected. Perhaps he really did not mind.
Maria supposed dining with him could not hurt. If he was anything like Mr. Mosby, then Mr. Shelby was likely a charming companion. Perhaps she could even get some information about Miss Horn's character. "Yes, Mr. Shelby, that would be fine."
The Southern gentleman nodded at her. His boyish grin was rather disarming. "6 o'clock?" Maria could not help giving him a befuddled smile. "Yes."
"Fine. I'll meet you here."
Maria nodded at him. She could hardly say anything when he smiled at her like that.
Mr. Shelby replaced his hat, nodded at her, and left. Maria watched him. He was rather handsome.
"Seems right cozy to me," she heard Austin's voice mutter behind her. He sat down at her table.
Maria moaned inwardly. She wondered how long he had been eavesdropping.
"You in with Shelby now?" he asked snidely. "He murdered a man, you know. You'd think you'd know better."
Maria's mouth tightened in anger. "He's been cleared of that, as you are well aware." Mr. Shelby's acquittal caused a severe rift in Austin and Maria's relationship. Her cousin had treated her rudely ever since.
"I'd watch out, if I were you," Austin shrugged. "Can't trust a man like that."
"It's just dinner, Austin."
"You really think he's interested in you?" he asked incredulously. "He wants funding for some logging project he wants to start here. He's just after your money."
Maria did not believe that. Mr. Shelby had always been kind to her ever since he arrived in Curtis Wells. He could not have known that she was rich from the very start. "Mr. Mosby would give him the money, if that were the case," Maria argued.
Austin chuckled. "You think Mosby cares about that right now? All he wants is his precious railroad. Shelby just wants your money."
Maria doubted that a friend of Mr. Mosby's would be a fortune hunter. "He seems a nice man."
"Boy, you sure can play the fool." Austin shook his head.
"It's just dinner," Maria repeated, losing her patience. Austin was the fool here, not she. "I just want to ask him about Miss Horn."
Austin looked at her, perplexed for a moment. "Enona? I'd stay away from her, if I were you. You don't need to eat dinner with Shelby when I can tell you that."
"What?" Maria asked, growing concerned for Mr. Call. "How do you know her?"
"She packs a wallop," he explained, standing up from the table. "Watch your backside."
Maria shook her head as she watched her cousin leave the Dove. Austin's word could not be trusted. She decided that Mr. Shelby was more amiable companion than her cousin. She would eat with him any day.
Maria nearly dropped her packages as she left Mr. Creel's general store the next morning. Miss Horn was finally alone, and she stood near to the store window. It was a prime opportunity to meet the woman bounty hunter, and it was unlikely that Maria would get another chance like this. She had to introduce herself. She could not trust Mr. Call to do such things. He never did like to follow proper rules.
Maria wondered how to approach her. Maria could not just come right out and question the blond woman's intentions regarding her blood brother. It might be rude and a little dangerous. Besides, Mr. Call did appear to like this woman. Perhaps she ought to trust his judgment and give the blond woman the benefit of the doubt, if only for the meanwhile.
Maria swallowed, trying to gain her courage. How does one talk to a wild woman? "Good morning," she finally said to the blond woman.
Miss Horn, lost in thought, realized that Maria was talking to her. She merely grunted.
"How are you this morning?" Maria inquired politely about her health.
Miss Horn gave her an odd look. "Fine."
"Lovely weather, isn't it?" Maria commented.
Miss Horn shook her head, growing impatient. "Who are you? What do you want?"
Maria had to give her credit. She was just as direct as Mr. Call was.
Maria put down her packages and offered the bounty hunter her hand. "My name is Maria Bennett. Mr. Call is my blood brother."
Miss Horn saw her hand but did not shake it. "Funny. He never said nothing about having a sister."
Maria shrugged. Mr. Call was never a vocal sort of man. "Oh, we're quite close. We sit over there and have many pleasant conversations."
Miss Horn regarded the bench and then looked back at her as if she was crazy.
"He's a wonderful man," Maria continued. "Don't you think so?" She regarded Miss Horn with scrutiny. The bounty hunter had better agree with her.
"Look, I don't got time for this," Miss Horn argued, beginning to walk away. Maria stepped into her path. Miss Horn gave her a steely stare. Maria felt her heart beat faster. Miss Horn was of the dangerous sort, and Maria could tell that the bounty hunter's patience was nearly at an end.
"He's my blood brother," Maria repeated. "He's family. I have to take care of him."
Miss Horn did not reply for a moment. "He's a big boy. He can take care of himself."
"I just don't want to see him hurt."
Miss Horn stared at her. Her blue eyes hinted of her own pain. "He ain't gonna be hurt by me. Now leave me alone." The blond bounty hunter stalked off.
Maria picked up her packages. Oddly, she felt reassured by the encounter. Perhaps Miss Horn was not all that bad.
Maria pinched her cheeks, bit her lips, and straightened her hair. With her new dress on, she really did not look that bad. Laughing at the mirror, she defied Miss Horn to look as well as she did.
She really hoped Mr. Shelby was already downstairs. There was nothing worse than waiting alone at a table. As Maria locked her door, she could hear that the Dove was already bustling. Putting the key in her sleeve, Maria re-straightened her dress, trying to still her breath. It was only dinner, she told herself. Her real purpose tonight was only to find out more about Miss Horn. It did not matter that Mr. Shelby was handsome and charming. Then she remembered how he kissed her the night of his acquittal. That did not matter either, Maria blushed. She was doing all of this for Mr. Call. He was the higher purpose here.
As she descended the stairs, Maria smiled when she saw Mr. Shelby sitting near the front desk. He was waiting for her. He looked up, stood, and grinned. He offered her his arm when she reached the base of the steps.
"You look lovely this evening, Miss Bennett," he said as she placed her hand in the crook of his arm.
"Thank you," she returned, blushing a bright red. He was quite handsome, too, yet Maria was unsure of how to return the compliment.
Mr. Shelby ushered them to the last empty table. The dining room was packed. Miss Carpenter and several waitresses had their hands full as they took orders and delivered meals.
Mr. Mosby and several railroad executives were already dining at the best table in the room. Maria and Mr. Shelby could clearly see them.
"What will you have, Miss Bennett?" Mr. Shelby asked her as they stared over the menus. A waitress was already there to take their orders.
Maria already knew the menu by heart. She ate there quite frequently since she moved back into the Dove.
"The venison, Mr. Shelby."
"Venison for us both," he told the waitress. The waitress nodded, collecting their menus. They ordered coffee and tea for drinks.
They stared at each other for a few awkward moments.
"Lovely weather, isn't it, Miss Bennett?" he commented, clearing his throat.
"Yes, quite. I'm told that it usually rains more at this time of year."
Maria looked down at the silverware, not sure of what else to add. She wanted to say that she did not miss the mud that went with the rain, but she was unsure if Mr. Shelby would appreciate that remark.
"Yes," he nodded. "That's what they say."
He did not make further comment.
Maria hoped their drinks would arrive soon.
"It's dryer here than in Virginia," he added. "We have more humidity."
"Really?" she asked. "Virginia must be so green. The books say that Virginia is lush with fine trees. They even say that you have a swamp or two. I've never seen a swamp."
Maria bit her lip. Perhaps she said too much at once.
Mr. Shelby grinned at her. "Well, grant you, there weren't a lot of swamps where I grew up, but I must say, swamps are fine things. I saw my first alligator in Alabama when I was five. Nearly scared me half to death at the time, but once you see a few, you get over it. What you really want watch for in swamps are the mosquitoes. They'll eat you alive, Miss Bennett. I've seen bugs out there bigger than you are and twice as thirsty."
Maria laughed at the image he inspired. "Sounds like good fishing waters, Mr. Shelby."
"Ugly fish, but good eating," Mr. Shelby replied. "So, I've told you about my alligators and fish. You tell me about your childhood."
Maria could not help but return his charming smile. His boyish grin was infectious. "I grew up in New York," she began. "Later I lived in Maine with my aunt. Aunt Elinor was the best of women. We'd watch the fishermen bring in their big catches from our hill."
"Maria was a poor little orphan girl," Austin suddenly interrupted, plopping himself on an empty chair at their table. Her cousin looked like he had been drinking, and he reeked of cigar smoke. "Her parents and brother died in a fire, you know. So sad."
He looked at Maria with mock sympathy and smirked at Mr. Shelby. "It's a wonder she survived. Guess they don't make fires like they used to."
Maria moaned inwardly. Austin must have really hated her. "Austin, go away," she hissed.
Mr. Shelby looked angry.
"Now, now," Austin stroked his scraggly beard, giving her his most patient look. "I have to see to my cousin's interests, now don't I?"
Maria bit her lip at his sarcasm. How he must hate her.
Austin addressed Mr. Shelby. "As a Southern gentleman, I'm sure you can understand how I have to protect her welfare. She's rich, you know. It's just one money-grubbing man after another. I have to do what I can to protect her. You can understand that."
Mr. Shelby grasped the edge of the table. He did not say anything.
"Well, she had that brief encounter with Mosby. Good thing I got her out of that one before too much damage was done. Poor girl. Damn near drove herself crazy over him. She probably still fancies herself in love with him, that bastard."
Maria could not look at either man. She wished she could sink underneath the table to hide her mortification.
"Austin, please," she begged.
"You want to go outside?" Mr. Shelby growled.
Austin ignored his challenge. "Imagine my surprise when a stage robber wants to dine with my cousin. Why don't you tell her about that, Shelby? You robbed a stage here a few years back. We formed a posse but couldn't find you. Slippery bastard, aren't you?"
"Leave now," Mr. Shelby commanded, gritting his teeth.
"Why all this show?" Austin demanded, gesturing at the table. "You don't need to woo her none. All her money is in the bank. All you gotta do is rob it. You're good at that, aren't you, Shelby?"
"You hate me," Maria whispered to her cousin as Mr. Shelby's fists pounded on the table.
The whole dining room suddenly seemed to focus on them. Mr. Mosby's eyes narrowed as the railroad executives turned to see what the commotion was about.
Mr. Shelby took a deep breath, straightening his fingers. He gave Austin a mock smile.
The diners returned to whatever they were doing.
"Nah," Austin finally replied to her. "Why would you think that?"
"Austin, please leave," she begged him.
Austin roughly pushed himself out of the chair. "I can tell when I'm not wanted."
He left the Dove with a smirk on his face.
Maria sighed into her hands. She could not believe how her cousin must have hated her.
Mr. Shelby did not say anything. His jaw twitched in tension.
"It's not you," Maria tried to explain to the Southern man. "It's me, really. Austin has been like this for a while. He doesn't like me much, you see. It's been so hard ..." she said, her voice trailing off. She bit her lip hard to keep herself from crying. "He can be nice," she said.
"He's no better than a low-down dog," Mr. Shelby commented.
Maria knew it, especially when her cousin acted like this, but there was no way she could possibly admit it aloud. She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. She, too, pushed herself up from the table. "I don't feel well, Mr. Shelby. Would you mind?"
He stood as well, looking at her in sympathy. "Of course not. Perhaps some other time, Miss Bennett?"
Maria tried to smile at him but found it difficult.
"I'm at the Ambrosia if you need me," Mr. Shelby told her.
She nodded. She knew that he had a room at Mr. Mosby's establishment.
"Good night," he said.
"Good night."
It took all her strength to not run up the stairs to her room.
Austin was a heel.
"She should have hit Austin on the head instead," Maria commented as she and her blood brother watched the marshals lead away a man named Cavanaugh. Miss Horn and Mr. Call apparently brought the fugitive to justice the night prior, but not until after Miss Horn had rendered him unconscious.
This man Cavanaugh was the big mystery the two bounty hunters were trying to solve all this time. Maria still did not understand the entire particulars of it.
"I think she hit him when she came to town the first time," Mr. Call stated about Austin. The bounty hunter settled himself on his bench, putting his hat over his eyes.
That bit of news raised Miss Horn in Maria's estimation. Maria was still very unhappy with Austin's behavior the night before, and she said so to Mr. Call. Mr. Call could merely nod about Austin's behavior. Apparently, he knew all too well what her cousin was capable of.
One good thing was that Miss Horn's leaving earlier that morning did not overly affect Mr. Call. He had enough hurt in his lifetime for more.
"What were you doing with Miss Horn, anyway?" Maria asked. "What did this Cavanaugh have to do with it? Do you like her, Newton? Is she coming back to town, you think?"
Mr. Call did not remove his hat from his face, yet he spoke into it. "Leave it be. Ain't none of your concern."
Maria had no patience for such arguments. "Now, don't you think if you just tell me what was going on that there would be less trouble for everybody? It certainly would be less bother for me."
Mr. Call removed his hat. His azure eyes stared right through her. "You don't need to know everything." Then replaced his hat on his face.
Maria stomped her foot. He was like arguing with a brick wall.
"Worry about your own affairs," he added.
She did not want to worry about Austin. She was angry with Austin.
"Austin just can't keep on doing this," she said.
Mr. Call did not comment into his hat for a moment. "I wouldn't worry none. Heard tell Austin walked into a fist last night."
Maria could not believe it. "Austin was in a fight?"
She could hear him snickering under his hat. "Not so much a fight. He didn't even throw a punch."
"You were there?"
Mr. Call did not answer.
"Austin was in a fight, and you didn't stop it?" Maria demanded angrily.
"Weren't none of my business. Figure he had it coming."
Maria shook her head. Men.
"Who hit him, then?"
Mr. Call grunted into his hat. "Can't rightly say."
"Won't say is more like it," Maria muttered.
"Weren't none of my affair."
Maria nodded. That was always his excuse, yet he always seemed to know everything going on in town without uttering a single word to anybody. She wished she could have his uncanny skill.
"So what you are saying is that I need to sit down here and mind my own business. Is that right?"
He continued to speak into his hat. "Yep."
"And I don't need to find the man with a broken hand this morning?"
He grunted in agreement.
"You're saying it wouldn't do any good anyway."
"That's about the size of it."
Maria could not help laughing at him. Her blood brother had some pretty outlandish ideas at times. Then her thoughts turned serious.
"Do you ever think Austin will let me move back into the newspaper office?"
Mr. Call thought about it, and then replied. "I wouldn't worry none. Things have a way of working out."
She regarded her blood brother. He looked the perfect picture of serenity. His hat, his jacket, his boots - all were in a position of repose. She smiled. Maybe Mr. Call had a good idea for such a beautiful spring morning.
Maria sat on his bench with him and breathed in deeply. It was the perfect day to just relax.
END
June 2002
See also: The Swamps of Virginia