"Maria Bennett" and all original material included in this story are the creations of Darcie Daniels.
Forgive me. I had to indulge in romantic goo.
Thanks to Floyd Orr, who unknowingly, has inspired many a LD work.
December 1881
Maria read the engraving on the headstone:
In Loving Memory of
Hannah Call
Born September 9, 1858
Died December 5, 1878
She allowed her uncle and cousin to grieve in peace as she placed a wreath on her aunt Sarah's headstone. It had been exactly three years since her cousin Hannah's death. Maria had never known her late cousin, but she knew what Hannah's death meant to her family. They were still suffering from her tragic loss.
Maria frowned as her uncle's body wracked with silent sobs. Someone once told her that he was a newspaperman. The uncle Josiah she knew wavered between insanity and lucidity and was barely able to function as the town's puppet mayor. Maria had no doubt that Josiah would probably go into another of his episodes - probably more than likely that very night if he got a hold of some liquor. He was a very sad man.
Her cousin Austin was just as pathetic, but in an entirely different way. He knelt down to his father and tried to place a comforting hand upon his shoulder. Josiah shrugged off his son and bowed down in deeper pain. Austin tried to mask his hurt, but it was of no use. Maria saw the barely perceptible twitch in his jaw. Her cousin looked up at her and turned away.
Maria faced her aunt's gravestone once again. She did not know what kind of comfort she could be to them. They were still hurting so much. Any effort that she made seemed to be useless.
Her gaze drifted off to the livery. Mr. Call was mounted on his horse. He was watching them. A sorrow seemed to weigh down his shoulders.
Maria frowned. Her blood brother maintained an air of aloofness to hide his misery. Even now, she knew that he would not come down to be with them. He could not visit Hannah's grave until he was alone, and even then, it would be very difficult for him. Maria wanted to help him desperately. She wanted him to know that she would always be there for him. She nodded to him. He reared back and then kicked the Hell Bitch into a trot. He headed out of town.
It was all so sad, she thought as she watched her uncle and cousin get up from the gravesite. Josiah staggered away. Austin followed him helplessly. Maria lingered, placing a wreath on her cousin's stone. What else could she do for the cousin she never knew?
The mourning party returned silently back to town. Many townspeople watched them. Josiah clutched his Bible. Austin lingered at his arm, hoping to support his father if need be. Maria walked about ten paces behind them. They all wore black. They were not quite together, but they were all apart.
Mr. Mosby stepped down from the porch of the Ambrosia Club when he saw them. He removed his hat and tried to say something to her uncle, but Austin glared at the town proprietor and ushered his father away. Mr. Mosby sighed, and then he waited until Maria reached him.
"I'm sorry for your family's loss," Mr. Mosby told her. "Your cousin was a fine woman."
Maria was aware that Mr. Mosby had kissed Hannah at one time. No doubt Hannah's death had affected him, too.
"Thank you, Mr. Mosby," Maria replied.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
"I understand, Mr. Mosby, that you supplied Hannah's headstone. I want to thank you again for your kindness to my family. I am sure that they were not sensible of it at the time."
He shook his head and gave her an awkward smile. "Think nothing of it. It was least I could do."
Maria nodded to him.
He replaced his hat and bid her good day.
Maria tightened her shawl and followed her family back to the newspaper office. It was likely to be a cold day.
A few days later.
"Mr. Root," Maria reprimanded him. "Pay attention." Maria had been trying to show him a map of Montana Territory. If Mr. Root was going to take her on the stage to Miles City in a few days, then he should best know where he was going.
"Can't. I'm busy," the big man told her. He was, too. He was unloading bags from the stage.
It frightened Maria immensely to go on the stage, but Maria felt that she had no choice. She wanted Christmas to be extra special that year for her family, and the items in Mr. Creel's general store were not exactly what she had in mind for presents. That only left Miles City. She was glad that Mr. Root would take her on the stage. No doubt Mr. Root could handle any dangerous situation should it arise. Maria only doubted his sense of direction.
"Mr. Root," she told him as he threw down more bags. "Curtis Wells is right here. Miles City is right there. It is imperative that you know exactly where you are going."
The big man's face brightened with amusement when he saw her point to the various places on her map. "Hell, Maria. I've been there hundreds of times. I could drive that run in my sleep."
"Oh no, Mr. Root," Maria replied, now growing distressed. "You mustn't be sleeping on your watch. You need to be fully awake when you take me. I insist that you get plenty of rest between now and then. I think you should get something to eat and go straight to sleep. This is no time for your usual cavorting about."
Mr. Root laughed at her. His big arm pulled her in close for a bear hug. "You're a hoot!" he said, chuckling at her.
"Unhand me, you big brute," Maria managed to say. He was squeezing the life out of her. The man was most annoying, especially when he treated her in such an undignified manner.
He tousled her hair and let her go. "Say, why don't you and me go get a drink when I'm done here?"
Maria straightened her hair, annoyed to the extreme. Only Mr. Root would ever suggest something so ludicrous. But still, she needed to show him the map.
She was about to suggest that they have tea when the door to the coach opened. Miss Amanda Carpenter stepped out. She did not look well.
Maria looked suspiciously at Mr. Root, wondering if his driving was to blame, and then she stepped toward Miss Carpenter. "Are you all right?" she asked.
Miss Carpenter was dressed impeccably from her maroon-colored hat to the hem of her finely-trimmed skirt. The only thing amiss was the buttons opened at her throat, revealing her clammy skin. Miss Carpenter leaned against the door. Her face physically blanched.
"I'm fine," Miss Carpenter managed to say.
She took a step and would have fallen if Maria and Mr. Root had not caught her.
"Miss Carpenter!" Maria called out to her in alarm.
"Get a doctor!" Mr. Root yelled to someone in the street. He picked up Miss Carpenter and proceeded to head towards the hotel.
"My bag," Miss Carpenter moaned weakly. "My leather bag." She pointed to it as Mr. Root carried her off. Maria picked up her bag and followed them. Mr. Root entered the hotel and took the ill woman up the stairs to her room. He unbuttoned her over-jacket. Miss Carpenter's blouse was soaked with sweat. The beautiful woman moaned.
"It's all right, Amanda," Mr. Root said, trying to soothe her. "Doc Cleese will be here any time now."
Maria emptied Miss Carpenter's washbasin out the window and rushed down the stairs for fresh water. The hotel was empty. It was before the dinner time bustle.
She toted the water up the stairs, wondering where Dr. Cleese was. He must have been out on another call. It was unusual for him to be so late.
Mr. Root took the basin from her as Maria grabbed one of Miss Carpenter's towels and soaked it through with the water. She dabbed Miss Carpenter's brow. Maria could feel the heat of Miss Carpenter's skin through the cloth.
Maria looked at Mr. Root in concern. Miss Carpenter was terribly ill.
Mr. Root frowned. "Stay with her," he ordered. "I'll get help."
Maria could hear his heavy footfalls down the steps. She turned to Miss Carpenter, continuing to sponge her face.
"My bag," Miss Carpenter moaned. "My bag."
"It's all right," Maria told her. "Don't worry. It's here."
The brunette woman weakly grasped her arm. "Bring it. Please."
Maria was about to tell her she would when she heard the heavy footfalls of Mr. Root once again. He had been gone for only a few seconds. Dr. Cleese must have already been on his way.
"Dr. Cleese is coming, Miss Carpenter. Try to rest."
Mr. Root entered the room, immediately followed by Dr. Cleese. Dr. Cleese wore a heavy, white linen duster. He carried his medical bag. He looked at Maria and Mr. Root.
"Will you both wait out in the hall until I come out?" Dr. Cleese asked.
Maria and Mr. Root complied with his wishes. Maria saw Dr. Cleese fasten a handkerchief around his mouth just before he closed the door. She frowned, looking at Mr. Root.
"I hope Miss Carpenter is not seriously ill."
The big man sat down on the landing, his gaze directed towards Miss Carpenter's door. "I guess she'll be all right. Doc Cleese was sure wearing a funny getup, wasn't he? He was wearing that when I met him at the door."
"Thank goodness he is prompt," Maria remarked. She wondered about Dr. Cleese's attire, too, but she did not comment. They waited in silence until Dr. Cleese opened the door. Mr. Root stood up.
"At this stage, I just cannot tell," Dr. Cleese told them gravely. "Miss Carpenter will have to be placed under observation. She is exhibiting the early signs of the disease. Her fever is high, the welts on her chest ..." Dr. Cleese shook his head with worry. "I'm afraid I don't have any other choice. I only wish you had taken her directly to my office instead of here."
Mr. Root frowned. "We still can, can't we? Unless Amanda's real bad."
"No, no, Luther. Miss Carpenter mustn't be moved," the little doctor replied. His body tensed when he looked at both Mr. Root and Maria. "And I'm afraid, neither can you. You've both been in direct contact with Miss Carpenter. You cannot be allowed to expose the other members of this community to the disease."
Maria frowned as Mr. Root asked angrily, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Please, Luther," Dr. Cleese implored him. "Allow me to explain. Before I even received word that Miss Carpenter was sick, an urgent telegram was sent from Miles City. They've had an outbreak of small pox, and they've been telegraphing all the stops from the departing stages. I'm afraid that you and Miss Carpenter have inadvertently brought small pox to Curtis Wells from Miles City. Believe me, I wish we could have stopped you just before you arrived in town, but we just barely received the telegram. The stage was already here before we could take prompt action. Now, we have no choice. We will have to quarantine anyone that you and Miss Carpenter have come into direct contact with since you entered Curtis Wells. That means you, Maria, will also be quarantined with Mr. Root and Miss Carpenter. We have no choice."
"That's crazy," Mr. Root spat out. "I ain't staying here." The big man pushed passed the physician and made his way roughly down the stairs.
Dr. Cleese frowned at Maria. "He will not go far. Guns have already been posted at the door."
Maria could not believe it. She, too, rushed down the stairs, only to see Mr. Root confronting several men with trained shotguns.
"There are guns at the exit, too," Dr. Cleese confirmed when he reached the bottom landing. "Neither of you have a choice."
"But Dr. Cleese," Maria protested. "I had small pox when I was a child. I shouldn't be able to catch it again, should I? There's no need to keep me here."
"Yeah, me too," Mr. Root added. "I had it one winter when I was out trapping."
"Good, then neither of you will become ill," Dr. Cleese said, "but you still cannot be allowed to carry the disease to others. I'm sorry, but both of you will have to remain here for at least two weeks." He dug into his medical bag and pulled out several medicine bottles. He handed them to Maria. "Please give one teaspoonful of each of these to Miss Carpenter every four hours. Send word if her condition worsens."
Maria sighed as Mr. Root let out an explicative. He was as unhappy with the situation as she was.
"Also send word for any provisions you may need," Dr. Cleese said.
He exited the hotel. The guards gave him wide berth as he took off his linen duster. The door closed, leaving Maria and Mr. Root alone to nurse an ill Miss Carpenter.
Maria frowned. This was not how Christmas season was supposed to be.
Try as she might, Maria could not get Miss Carpenter to keep the blanket over her bosom. Miss Carpenter kept throwing it off in her feverish delirium. Maria wished that when she was sick that her bosom could heave like that. She looked down at her own fronts and supposed that it was not going to happen. Still, she supposed it was better her fronts did not have the welts that Miss Carpenter's had. Maria hoped that Miss Carpenter's skin would not scar.
Mr. Root knocked on the door.
Maria quickly threw the blanket over Miss Carpenter's bosom. She had to protect the woman's modesty.
Mr. Root entered the room. "How's she doing?"
"She still has a fever and a rash, I'm afraid," Maria frowned, looking down at the beautiful woman in assessment. "I think she is better. She's not thrashing about like she was."
Just then, as if to prove her wrong, Miss Carpenter tossed off her blanket in the feverish throes of delirium, revealing her cleavage. Maria quickly replaced the blanket, struggling with the woman.
"Mr. Root!" Maria chided. "Do Miss Carpenter some courtesy and kindly turn around."
Mr. Root chuckled as Miss Carpenter finally settled down. He stood still. Maria sponged the ill woman's brow.
"Ain't nothing. Say, I'm hungry. What's for dinner?"
It was only the first day of their confinement, and already Maria felt like thrashing him. The big man was most annoying.
"I'm hungry, too, Mr. Root, but don't you see I'm busy? Why don't you manage something for us?"
Then Maria thought better of it, her nose crinkling in dismay over what Mr. Root might make for dinner. Also, he more than likely did not know how to make a proper cup of tea. He was probably a horror in the kitchen.
"Never mind, Mr. Root. Perhaps it's better that I arrange dinner matters. Will you sponge Miss Carpenter's brow?" she asked, delicately demonstrating the maneuver for him. "You mustn't use too much water, mind you. You must not soak the poor woman. And you must promise to close your eyes, Mr. Root. I'm afraid she's in too feverish a state to protect her modesty. Promise to close your eyes, Mr. Root. I insist."
Mr. Root quickly crossed the room in two steps and took the sponge from Maria's grasp. He was laughing at her.
"Ain't closing my eyes. I'd best see what I'm aiming at," he said. "Don't want Amanda to go off and haul on me if I can help it."
Maria frowned. She supposed that made sense. She always suspected that Mr. Root had a poor sense of direction. He needed all the help he could get.
"Will you be all right with her?" she asked. He was too much of a ruffian to be let alone with such an ill woman.
"Go on now," Mr. Root waved her away. "She'll be fine. I've tended the sick before."
Maria's eyes narrowed in disbelief. She made her way down the stairs. She cursed the fate that contrived her into these awful circumstances. It was going to be a long two weeks.
"And just where is everyone going to eat?" she heard Mr. Mosby demand as Maria made her way up the stairs with the dinner tray. Mr. Mosby and Dr. Cleese were arguing just outside the front hotel doors. "Couldn't you have quarantined them somewhere else? The hotel is a major business in this town."
"I had no choice. I told you that, Clay. This is serious. Three people have already died in Miles City."
Maria heard a pause. "Dear God," Mr. Mosby replied. "Are you sure it's small pox? Are you absolutely certain that Amanda has small pox?"
"She has the welts and the fever. There's nothing to indicate otherwise. If we can keep her here, then it will not spread."
"And I suppose you want to limit everyone to and from town? Damn it, Doctor. We don't need to be labeled a plague town."
"No one's died here yet. I don't intend for it, either." Then Dr. Cleese stepped through the door. Maria came down the stairs to greet him. The little doctor looked distressed. She placed the tray on the table.
"Ah, Maria. How is Miss Carpenter?" the doctor asked in fatigue.
"I think her fever is down. Mr. Root is upstairs with her now. I was just going to bring them dinner."
"You are such an angel of mercy, Maria."
Maria grimaced at him in annoyance. She wished that the little doctor would not say such things.
"I'll tell Mr. Root to come down to you," Dr. Cleese continued. "I need to examine Miss Carpenter."
Her glance rested on the doctor briefly, and then she walked over to the front doors of the hotel. She wanted to talk with Mr. Mosby if he was still there. When she opened the door, Maria was greeted by shotguns.
"You're not going anywhere, lady," Mr. Pratt told her, sticking a long barrel to her nose. "Steer clear."
Maria frowned, backing off.
"Put it down, Pratt," Mr. Mosby ordered. He must have lingered to talk something over with his men. "She isn't going to harm anyone."
Maria smiled at the town proprietor in gratitude. "I need to talk with you a moment, Mr. Mosby. I promise I won't get any closer than this."
Mr. Mosby shook his head at the absurdity of the situation and waved his men away. He looked at her in pity. "What can I do for you, Miss Bennett? Is Amanda all right?"
"I think she is doing better. I'm not as worried about her as I was," Maria replied. It was awkward talking to him when he was more than four feet away.
"Good," Mr. Mosby nodded. "Let me know when she improves. This is entire nonsense, if you ask me."
"I don't wish to be here for Christmas, Mr. Mosby," Maria told him. "I can't be away from my family for that long."
"I don't think the doctor is giving you much choice, Maria," Mr. Mosby told her gently.
"I understand, but someone has to take care of my family. Please, Mr. Mosby?" she begged him. "Will you look after them? They need me, and I can't be there. Will you make sure that they don't get into too much trouble while I'm confined here? I can talk to them, of course, like I'm talking here with you, but that isn't the same. They need someone to look after them. Will you please watch them?"
Mr. Mosby seemed taken aback by her request. "Maria ..."
"Just watch them is all I ask. Please?"
Mr. Mosby sighed. "If they so much as sneeze, I'll let you know. How's that?"
Maria nodded. She felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
"It'll be hard to watch Call, however," he continued. "He rode out of town, if I recall."
Maria frowned at that. "Is it true you are not letting anyone into town? Please, you must let him back in when he comes. Poor Newton might catch his death of cold out there. Please let him in. This is his only home. I promise you that he won't spread any disease around if he did catch something anyway. You know how he keeps to himself."
Mr. Mosby chuckled to himself. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but yes, Mr. Call will be welcome back to Curtis Wells. Now, would you also like me to sprout wings and fly to the moon, Miss Bennett, or will that be enough to satisfy you at the current moment?"
Maria laughed at him. "Thank you, Mr. Mosby. You are most kind."
She heard Mr. Root's heavy footfalls down the stairs.
Then she implored the town proprietor again. "Please come visit me. Have Mr. Shelby come visit me, too. Make sure that my uncle and cousin and Newton also come. I have two long weeks alone with Mr. Root and Miss --"
Then Mr. Root appeared at the doorway. "Dinner's getting cold, Maria. You talk too much." He picked her up by the waist. "See you, Mosby," he told the town proprietor as he hauled her over to the dinner table.
"Unhand me, you big oaf," Maria muttered. She waved goodbye to a laughing Mr. Mosby.
Perhaps one good thing may happen out of this inconvenience, Maria thought as Mr. Root plunked her down on a chair. She might be able to teach Mr. Root some etiquette in the two weeks they were alone with Miss Carpenter. He most certainly needed it.
As she cleaned up the dishes, Mr. Root went upstairs to tend Miss Carpenter. He was to administer the medicine left by Dr. Cleese. The doctor claimed that Miss Carpenter's condition was better.
Maria brought some broth up with her for Miss Carpenter. She gently tapped on the door with her foot.
Mr. Root opened it. His normally jovial face was worn with fatigue. He helped Maria set the broth down on Miss Carpenter's nightstand.
"Her fever's broke," Mr. Root said quietly. "She's asleep."
"That's good," Maria whispered.
"She'll be right hungry in the morning," he added.
"I suspect so."
Maria settled down on Miss Carpenter's chair for the night. She would have to be there when Miss Carpenter awoke. Mr. Root bid her goodnight and left the room. He did not even suggest that they have some fun. Maria bit her lip. He was certainly acting odd.
Maria did not know why she got up from her chair, but she felt that she ought to check on Mr. Root. She saw him sitting on the landing. His head was bowed.
"Mr. Root?" she asked gently, sitting down beside him.
He looked at her and then bowed his head again.
Maria thought perhaps that he, like most men, did not cope well with sickness. "She'll be all right, Mr. Root."
"I know."
"Are you all right?" she asked, placing her hand on his shoulder.
He looked at her and gave her a small smile. "Just remembering, is all." His gaze returned to the steps. He did not speak.
Maria sat with him in silence. She gently patted his shoulder.
"My wife died a couple of years back. The doctors couldn't help her none. Just don't like waiting, is all."
Maria was stunned. "I didn't know you were married. I'm so sorry."
"You can't think of me married, can you? But she did. She was the right prettiest thing I ever saw, and she liked me, too. Imagine me - married! Don't that beat all." He slapped his knee at the wonder of it.
She looked at the big man in a new light. He was gentle despite his size, and she knew that he could be a good friend.
"No, Mr. Root, it may not be too hard to imagine." She squeezed his shoulder.
He grinned, grabbed her, and pulled her in for a bear hug. Maria let out an unexpected grunt. "Do you mind, Mr. Root?" she protested. She felt like she was turning blue from the lack of air.
"You're all right," Mr. Root told her, tousling her hair before finally releasing her.
"I suppose you are, too," she admitted, though she was highly annoyed about her hair. "You're good for Newton. I know that. You continue to be his friend. He needs constant supervision, as much as I suspect you do, Mr. Root."
Mr. Root chuckled. "You're funny. Say, why don't you and me find Amanda's good stuff downstairs and have us a drink?"
"None of that now," Maria said, wagging her finger at him. "Now go straight to bed. Off with you now. I've got a whole list of chores for you in the morning. You need to be fully refreshed."
Mr. Root laughed as he bounded down the stairs. "Good night."
"Good night."
It did not surprise Maria that Miss Carpenter tossed off her blanket during the night. What surprised her was that Miss Carpenter's bosom was no longer spread with welts. In fact, they were faded. In a day or two, the welts would not even be noticeable. Miss Carpenter no longer had a fever. With Miss Carpenter's lovely brunette hair spread angelically over her pillow, Maria could not tell that Miss Carpenter had even been ill.
Maria moved to replace the blanket when Miss Carpenter stirred from sleep. She moaned.
"Do rest, Miss Carpenter," Maria told her. "You've had a fever, but now it seems that you're all right. I'll go down and fetch your breakfast, if you like."
Miss Carpenter winced in pain as she tried to sit up. She squinted at Maria in curiosity. "What are you doing here?"
Maria sighed. "I suppose you ought to know the unfortunate truth. Dr. Cleese thought that you had contracted small pox. You had a fever, and welts were all over your chest. He had you, Mr. Root, and I quarantined here because he was so sure of it. Now it seems that you are just fine. Perhaps now we can all leave, though I don't understand what could have caused your rash in the first place. You had us worried."
Miss Carpenter shook her head for a moment, and then remembered something. "My bag. My leather bag," she muttered, frantically searching the room. The brunette woman tried to get up, and then she thought better of it. She moaned in pain.
"It's all right," Maria said, trying to soothe her. "It's right here."
Maria fetched the bag. It was in the corner where she had placed it the day before.
Miss Carpenter snatched the bag. Then she looked at Maria. Tenderness seemed to touch her large blue eyes. "Thanks," she nodded.
Maria nodded back at her curiously as Miss Carpenter searched the contents of her bag. Maria heard the rustle of papers. Soon, it appeared that Miss Carpenter found what she was looking for. It was an amber glass bottle. Miss Carpenter tossed it into a nearby trash can.
"Finegan McGee's Toilette Oil," Miss Carpenter explained sheepishly. "Normally I swear by the stuff, but I must have got a bad batch."
Maria nodded in understanding. Sometimes it was very difficult to keep the skin soft in the rough Montana clime. A woman had to do what a woman had to do.
"That explains your welts, but what about your fever?"
"I was feeling poorly before I even got to Miles City. Had something of a cold for sometime now."
Again, Maria nodded. It seemed to explain everything. "Good, then we will need Dr. Cleese to examine you and give you a clean bill of health. Then perhaps we can all leave. I don't think Mr. Root can tolerate being cooped up here for the next two weeks, and I want to get back to my family. I doubt Uncle Josiah or Austin know how to decorate for Christmas. And I'm sure you want to get back to running the hotel. It's only been a day and already people are clamoring to be let in. The food at the Number 10 is just not as good."
"You mean it's just been us? You, Luther, and me? Where's my help? What happened to all the hotel guests?"
Maria shook her head. "I don't know. I don't think there were guests. I think they turned Emily out before she was exposed to us. Isn't she your only help now?"
Miss Carpenter nodded absentmindedly. "Damn," she spat out. "Bad for business."
Maria knew that the beautiful brunette woman was a good hotelkeeper. The hotel always seemed to be running efficiently. Mr. Mosby must have been pleased with that, Maria thought, though she knew that he did not seem to trust Miss Carpenter. She wondered why he let Miss Carpenter run his hotel. Maria questioned Mr. Mosby about it once. He mentioned something about keeping his enemies closer ...
Maria herself did not trust Miss Carpenter at one time. She knew that Austin and Miss Carpenter were lovers, and Miss Carpenter seemed to influence Austin negatively. But now that seemed over. Besides, Maria realized that Austin was perfectly capable of getting into trouble with no help from Miss Carpenter. Perhaps it was unfair to blame Miss Carpenter for Austin's troubles.
Again, Miss Carpenter moaned when she tried to get up from bed.
"Rest," Maria repeated. "I'll get you some breakfast. Everything will be back to normal in the Dove in no time. You'll see."
Maria hated being wrong. It did not matter to Dr. Cleese that Miss Carpenter did not have small pox. All three of them were exposed nonetheless from the Miles City epidemic, and the quarantine was still in place. Miss Carpenter rested in bed, still too weak to come down. Maria sat at a dining table and stared out the window as Mr. Root was practicing with his bandoleer. A group of children were watching him through the glass.
His bandoleer spun up and down and all around. "I met this guy named Duncan once," he said. "He said it should be called a 'yo-yo.' It's a better name, don't you think?"
Maria rolled her eyes at his nonsense. "'Yo-yo' indeed," Maria muttered. "Be careful, Mr. Root. I played with a bandoleer once and nearly knocked myself out." Then Maria's face contorted with worry. "Oh please, don't give Newton one of those things. He might hurt himself."
Mr. Root laughed. Then his bandoleer spun expertly around the room. Maria could hear the children clapping in appreciation.
She wished they would not give the big man encouragement. It seemed that he liked nothing better than an audience.
Maria stared down at her book as Mr. Root performed more marvelous feats with his bandoleer. She was surprised and very glad that her cousin Austin had brought her favorite book to her. He also brought a fresh change of clothes. He seemed concerned about Miss Carpenter, as well. Maria hoped that he would not get involved with her again.
Her uncle Josiah did not accompany him. Austin did not say anything about it, but Maria could tell by the expression on Austin's face that her uncle was having another of his spells. Maria sighed. They needed her, and she was stuck in the hotel.
Maria did not inquire of Austin about her blood brother. Austin did not like to speak of him.
Still, it was very kind of Austin to bring her book to her. She hoped that it would pass away the time.
Maria heard some glass break. She looked up from her table. Mr. Root hid the bandoleer behind his back as the children laughed. One of Miss Carpenter's tumblers was broken on the floor.
"Didn't mean to do it," Mr. Root said. He crouched down to clean the glass.
Maria gave him an annoyed look and returned to her reading. The man was most irritating.
"Whatcha doing?" he asked after awhile.
"Reading," Maria replied.
"Reading what?"
"You wouldn't like it," Maria assessed the situation. "But it is my favorite book. I've read it several times. I never tire of it."
"What is it?"
Maria doubted that he had heard of it. She sighed, turning to the first page of the book. She began to read to him, "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of wife."
Mr. Root asked, "What does that say in English?"
Maria stomped her foot underneath the table. "Mr. Root, really." Then she sighed again. "Oh, how wish my first name was 'Elizabeth.' Then I would be Elizabeth Bennet, and you could call me 'Lizzie.' Wouldn't that be wonderful, Mr. Root? Then I'd marry Mr. Darcy and move to Netherfield and live happily ever after. And I'd also have lots of sisters. Wouldn't that be lovely?"
Mr. Root scrutinized her. "Are you coming down with the fever?" He was at her side in two steps. He felt her forehead. Maria slapped his big hands away.
"I'm fine, Mr. Root. PRIDE ∓ PREJUDICE is just the most marvelous book. It was my aunt Elinor's favorite. If you read it, I'm sure it would be yours, too."
Mr. Root laughed. "Sounds like one of those romance books to me."
Maria looked back down at her book in annoyance. Fine literature was lost on the wrong people.
Maria heard the clicks of the guns as they were trained on Mr. Root. He backed away from the balcony.
"Just having some fun, is all," he said, his face falling in disappointment.
Maria could have told him so. Spitting on his captors would always elicit that sort of response. If Mr. Zeke had not moved quickly, then a frozen spitball would have landed on his head. It would have been funny, Maria admitted, but very unseemly.
"Please, Mr. Root, do come in out of the cold," Maria asked him.
"Going stir crazy," Mr. Root complained. "How much longer do we need to be cooped up in his fancy jail? Feel like we're a bunch of chickens in a coop."
Maria was not happy about it, either. She had presents to buy, and there was no way she could get her shopping list out to anyone. She could not tell her instructions to anyone outside for fear that her family would find out what the presents were and spoil the surprise.
She had some yarn thrown in, and she completed some mittens and socks for her blood brother. Maria was knitting a scarf for him, as well, but the knitting was getting very boring. She was starting to drop stitches because she was not concentrating.
Miss Carpenter seemed to keep to herself in the office, doing some sort of paperwork. She and Maria would take turns cooking the meals. Days seemed like an eternity. Nights seemed endless.
Maria could not converse with anyone like she wanted. She wanted desperately to talk with Mr. Shelby, but they had very awkward conversations at four feet apart. He never did get around to kissing her like she wanted him to, and now it seemed like he never would. Their hands would have touched, if it had not been for the glass windowpane separating them. It caused Maria much despair.
It seemed to cause Mr. Root much delight. He liked nothing better than to interrupt those tender moments, much to Maria's annoyance. He also thought it was funny when Dr. Cleese came to visit. It had been no secret that Dr. Cleese had been interested in Maria romantically ever since her uncle Josiah had given him the idea in November. Dr. Cleese would shower her with complements while Mr. Root openly smirked.
And, after a week, Dr. Cleese would still not let them go.
Maria nudged Miss Carpenter's office door gently with her shoulder as she brought in a tray of tea and cookies. Miss Carpenter looked up from her work.
"I hope you don't mind, Miss Carpenter, but I brought some tea for you. It was hard to prepare with Mr. Root being underfoot in the kitchen. Miss Carpenter - I swear that man is driving me insane! I wish he had something to do. Isn't there something he can do for you around this place? He won't do anything that I tell him to do."
Maria stood looking at Miss Carpenter with an exasperated expression as she held the tea tray in her hands. Miss Carpenter gave her an annoyed look, but she moved her papers aside and nodded for Maria to set down the tray. Maria poured them each a cup of tea and she settled herself in a chair across from Miss Carpenter. The brunette woman looked irritated, as if she did not expect Maria to stay. Maria knew that she had nothing in common with the beautiful hotelkeeper, but Maria had to get away from Mr. Root. This was the first time the two women had ever truly sat down for a talk.
"Is there something you want?" Miss Carpenter asked. She looked like she wanted to get back to her papers.
Maria frowned. "I was hoping we could talk. You know Mr. Root. You can't have a delicate conversation with such a man."
Miss Carpenter looked thoughtful, then placed down her fountain pen and papers. "I suppose you're right. I guess you're getting mighty bored with just Luther to talk to."
"Don't get me wrong, Miss Carpenter. Mr. Root is a good sort of fellow, but he irritates me so!"
Miss Carpenter laughed. "He's all right. It's just hard to be around him all the time. He just might be sweet on you, you know."
Maria almost dropped her tea cup in horror. "No, no. A thousand times no! Please say you're joking, Miss Carpenter."
"Yes, I am, Maria. And call me 'Amanda.' You make me sound like I'm a old woman calling me that."
"All right ... Amanda."
"I know someone who is sweet on you," Miss Carpenter said. "If you could persuade Dr. Cleese to let us go, then we'd all be happy."
It was irritating that the whole town knew of Maria's predicament with the little doctor. "I'd rather not encourage him, if you don't mind," Maria replied wryly.
"Doesn't matter to me. Just thought that you might want to get home for Christmas, is all."
"Yes," Maria sighed. "I do, but I don't wish to toy with the man's affections."
Miss Carpenter harrumphed. "Honey, you got a lot to learn. That's what women do best. That's how we get what we want."
Maria gave her a doubtful look.
Miss Carpenter explained patiently, "Men can be a lot of fun, but in the end, it's up to you to take of yourself. No man is going to do that for you."
Maria knew that was true. "But haven't you ever fallen in love, Amanda? Have you ever known a true romance?"
Miss Carpenter looked at her in pity. "You believe that if you want to, honey. You give your heart to a man, and he'll tromp all over it."
Maria was once in love with Mr. Mosby, and when he did not return her affections, she remembered how heart-broken she was. She was over that now, but she wondered if Miss Carpenter had a similar experience.
"The men I know aren't all that bad," Maria told her.
"You don't know men, honey."
"Unbob is good man," Maria argued.
"Yes, well, Unbob ain't exactly the kind of man you'd fall for, is he?"
Maria shook her head. "Newton is the most of excellent of men."
Miss Carpenter smiled. "If you can convince Call to take his annual bath, then he might be attractive to the opposite sex. But he's your blood brother, ain't he? He don't count."
Maria frowned. "I thought we were talking about the good men in town."
"Hell, Maria, in that case, Dr. Cleese is a good man."
"He is, but he's too short."
Miss Carpenter laughed. "All right. I guess we are talking about good men in town that are attractive. You'd be hard to find that."
Maria knew her cousin was quite handsome, but Austin was not marriageable.
"I like Mr. Shelby," Maria admitted, a blush coming to her cheeks.
"I don't know Robert Shelby. He's a friend of Clay's is all I know."
"Mr. Mosby's a good man."
Miss Carpenter frowned. "He is unless you have an ace up your sleeve." Maria looked at her curiously, then Miss Carpenter changed the subject. "Never mind. Clay is quite attractive, believe me, but if it's love your looking for, you best keep on looking."
Maria could not argue with that, since she remembered her own painful experience with the man. "Mr. Mosby just needs the right woman."
"Hell, who's that going be?"
Maria did not voice it, but she knew that Mr. Mosby loved her cousin Hannah and that his heart still belonged to his late wife, Mary. His heart was buried in the grave -- twice. "Poor Mr. Mosby," Maria sighed. "That man needs to be matched." Then Maria thought better of it. Mr. Mosby should have married Miss Florie. She did have his child, after all.
Maria cleared her throat. "Perhaps not."
"Hell, Mosby don't need to marry anybody. He's got Florie right where he wants her."
Maria blushed. "I would hope that if a man was to put me in that predicament, that he would marry me."
"I don't think you'd even be in that spot, honey. Why, I bet you haven't even been kissed properly." Then Miss Carpenter scrutinized her. "Has Shelby even tried anything with you?"
Maria blushed again. She did not remember him doing anything untoward, but she wished that he would. She nonchalantly bit into a cookie. "About those chores for Mr. Root ..."
Miss Carpenter laughed. "What you need to do is flutter your eyes at him once and awhile. Wear something a little more revealing. Men love that."
Maria saw the way most men ogled Miss Carpenter's ample assets. Maria knew that her aunt Elinor would never approve of such attire. Besides, it was December. It was too cold to even think of it. "Thank you anyway, Amanda, but I am sure something will develop between Mr. Shelby and I in the future."
"Nothing wrong with helping him along."
Maria felt her face grow even redder. This conversation was not going in the way she intended. "Enough about me. What about you? Who are we going to match you with? You need someone to love."
Miss Carpenter snorted. "Like I told you. I don't expect a man to take care of me."
Maria scrutinized her. No, men could not be expected to ever take care of a woman, but they were meant to be partners in life. That was what her aunt Elinor had always told her. Miss Carpenter needed to be matched. Maria knew that in order to help the beautiful woman find the correct match that she would have to get to know her better. Maria would have to give the matter a lot of thought.
"Maria, I have to get to my papers now. These are really important."
"Of course, of course," Maria said, smiling to herself.
She picked up the tea service and left Miss Carpenter.
But who was the right man for her?
Maria smiled as sweetly as she could at him. She did not know why she had not thought of him before. He was absolutely perfect. He was a man of intelligence and position. Also, by matching him with Miss Carpenter, Maria could kill two birds with one stone. She could match Miss Carpenter, plus she would have one suitor out of her hair. "Dr. Cleese," she said, ushering him into the hotel. "Please come in."
"Maria," he acknowledged, removing his hat. "I insist that you call me 'Ephraim.' I trust everyone here is still in healthy condition?"
"Fine, fine," she said, still smiling though she was disconcerted that the little physician wanted her to call him by his given name. "Please sit down. Miss Carpenter will be out in a few minutes. Mr. Root is in the basement. Miss Carpenter sent him down there for something."
Maria did not know what the hotelkeeper had in mind for Mr. Root, but she was glad that the big man was out from under her feet. She did not need him interfering in her plans to match Miss Carpenter with Dr. Cleese.
"The tea is splendid, Maria," Dr. Cleese commented.
Maria was glad he thought so. She had used Miss Carpenter's best china for the occasion. "Miss Carpenter told me that this china came all the way from Boston. Isn't it beautiful? It's just like Miss Carpenter to bring such a touch of refinement to Curtis Wells."
"I'm sorry. I cannot drink your tea. It's the quarantine. I hope you understand. Normally I'd delight in such elegance. May I sit?"
Maria nodded toward his chair, but bit her lip. It would be very difficult to get Dr. Cleese and Miss Carpenter to talk if they did not partake in this social etiquette.
"Speaking of elegance, Maria, on the last stage just before your unfortunate circumstance, I received the latest record of Verdi. Perhaps you would like me to bring over my phonograph player so that you may listen."
Maria frowned. She had to direct the conversation so that it was about Miss Carpenter, not herself. "I don't know what is keeping Miss Carpenter. She said that she would only be in her office for a few minutes."
"I don't mind," Dr. Cleese commented. "It gives us a chance to talk alone. Maria, there is something that I've been meaning to ask you."
His tender tone of voice was rather alarming. Maria, by no means, could allow him to continue.
"I think Miss Carpenter is the most beautiful woman in Curtis Wells. She is very intelligent and highly independent. I highly admire her. Don't you?"
"I prefer a more studious woman," Dr. Cleese said, smiling at her.
Maria adjusted her glasses, clearing her throat. "Miss Carpenter is a very studious woman. Even now, she is attending to her papers."
"Yes, Miss Carpenter is a very good business woman. Maria, listen. Your uncle has given me permission -"
Maria laughed, pretending as if she did not hear him. "Why Miss Carpenter was just telling me yesterday about how lonesome she was. It's no wonder with all the time she spends keeping this hotel in order. In fact, she reminds me of you in that regard. You spend much of your time keeping your patients well. I'd say that Miss Carpenter spends as much of her time keeping her customers satisfied as you spend on tending the sick. You are both caring individuals, giving to the needs of the town. You are very much alike."
Dr. Cleese considered it for a moment. "I had not thought of it in that way."
Maria smiled. She had planted the idea of the beautiful hotelkeeper in Dr. Cleese's brain. "Miss Carpenter is very understanding. She told me that she thought you were a good man."
"Really?" Dr. Cleese asked. Then he shook his head. "I like Miss Carpenter, too. But enough about her. There is something that I've come to ask you -"
Just then, Miss Carpenter stepped out from her study. Maria stood up immediately to greet her. Dr. Cleese stood as well. "Miss Carpenter," she said. "Please, sit down. We were just talking about you. Dr. Cleese was just saying how much he admired you."
Miss Carpenter gave her a quizzical eyebrow and then examined the tea. "I didn't know we were having a town social."
"Please, Amanda," Maria repeated, smiling graciously at her. "Sit down. Have a cookie."
Miss Carpenter sat at the table, with the aid of Dr. Cleese. Maria got into her chair before the little doctor could help her.
They sat in awkward silence. Maria looked at the two of them. They were of dark complexions. They would look good together, even though the doctor was a foot shorter than Miss Carpenter. Maria wished that she had not commented about his lack of height to the hotelkeeper.
"So, Doc, when are you going to let us out?" Miss Carpenter inquired, sipping her tea.
"It says in all the medical journals that the proper time to quarantine in these cases is two weeks. You only have 6 days left of confinement."
"Should you be drinking tea with us, then?" the beautiful woman asked. "You might catch a disease or something. Makes me wonder why you are keeping us in the first place."
Miss Carpenter looked over at Maria and then to Dr. Cleese, giving them a knowing look.
Dr. Cleese's eyes widened. He appeared highly offended. "I am not drinking tea, Amanda. I am only sitting down. If you are suggesting that I am using this situation for personal gain -"
"That's not what Miss Carpenter is saying," Maria argued, sensing a very dangerous situation. "She is only expressing that you have exercised a good deal of caution here. Gathering what has happened in Miles City, that is only warranted. How are the people of Miles City, doctor? Are there any more small pox cases?"
Dr. Cleese frowned. "Two more people have died. I am very glad that you three have not exhibited any symptoms of small pox. I don't want anyone dying in this town."
"That's why he's keeping us quarantined. It is right of him, isn't it, Amanda?" Maria asked, giving the hotelkeeper a warning look.
Miss Carpenter appeared thoughtful. "Yes, I guess you are right. I'm sorry," she apologized to the physician. The doctor nodded at her.
Maria sighed. Accusations were not the best way to start a conversation between two intended lovers, but there was no blood shed. So far, so good.
Then she heard a boom down in the basement. Maria had completely forgotten about Mr. Root.
"I told him he could shoot at some mice," Miss Carpenter explained. "I hope he's not shooting at my other stuff."
"I will see what he is doing," Maria said, standing up. The physician stood up after her.
"No, no," Maria said, shaking her head at him. "I'll be back in a minute. Please, you two talk. I won't be long."
She smiled graciously at the little doctor for him to sit. Then she smiled sweetly at Miss Carpenter. Miss Carpenter gave her a curious look. Still smiling at them both, Maria nodded at them for encouragement, slowly backing away.
Maria was glad to leave. She would have to thank Mr. Root later. He gave her the perfect opportunity to leave the intended lovers alone.
As she turned towards the basement, her smile vanished. Mr. Shelby's image was in the window. He did not look pleased.
Maria bit her lip. She wondered why he was upset, but she could not find out at this very moment. She gave him a small smile, but Mr. Shelby turned away.
As she closed the door to the basement, Maria frowned. She would have to find out about him later. Right now, she had to tell Mr. Root to be quiet. Miss Carpenter and Dr. Cleese did not need gunfire to spoil a romantic moment.
Yes, Maria thought to herself. Everything was going according to plan.
"Mr. Root, it needs to go over a little to the left," Maria told him.
"Don't, Luther. It looks fine where it is," Miss Carpenter argued.
Maria did not agree with her, but there was little she could say. After all, it was Miss Carpenter's hotel.
It was highly lucky for Mr. Mosby that Miss Carpenter cared so much about his property. When Miss Carpenter agreed with Maria's suggestion to decorate the hotel for Christmas, Maria could hardly believe her luck. All Maria wanted to do was to make the hotel more romantic for a possible encounter between Dr. Cleese and Miss Carpenter. All Miss Carpenter seemed to care about was that decorating the hotel would only make business better when the hotel was reopened after the quarantine. In either case, things were working out well.
It was very fortunate that Mr. Root was such a big man. He was perfect for hanging things. He was so bored that he seemed willing to do just about anything.
He did not seem to enjoy, however, two women telling him where to hang evergreen boughs. He looked ready to give up on the idea at any moment.
It was not a good situation. They had several more boughs to hang. Mr. Mosby's men threw in so much evergreen that the hotel seemed a forest. Maria only hoped that they had left enough evergreen in the woods so she would have enough boughs to decorate her own house when she was released.
She sighed. She wondered how her family was doing. This was not her idea of how best to help her family at Christmas time.
"It is looking very nice, Mr. Root," Maria told the big man, hoping to bolster his confidence in his work.
"I'm having a Christmas party," Miss Carpenter suddenly announced. "I want you two to be there. Hell, I want the whole town to be there. It'll be something they won't forget, believe me."
They had two days left of quarantine and little more than a week until Christmas. Maria wondered how Miss Carpenter could pull off such a party.
"I've got it all planned," Miss Carpenter explained. "From the roast beef down to the tables where the men can play cards. There will be dancing and socializing to the likes that this town hasn't seen in a long time."
Maria smiled. So that what was Miss Carpenter was doing in her office all that time. She was seeing to party matters. Maria would have to tell Dr. Cleese what a fine hostess Miss Carpenter was.
"Sounds like fun," Mr. Root said about the party. "But I don't wanna hang any more plants." To prove his point, Mr. Root kicked away a bough.
Miss Carpenter giggled at him, taking him by the arm. The big man, like most men, was pleased by her attentions. "Luther, I think something needs to go over here," she said, indicating the space above the zebra head.
Maria watched Miss Carpenter charm Mr. Root into doing her bidding. Maria wished that she could have that power over men.
But there was one man in town that she did not wish to influence, and he seemed intent on courting her. Maria sighed as she watched Dr. Cleese enter the hotel. The sooner she matched the physician with Miss Carpenter, the better.
The doctor nodded to Miss Carpenter and Mr. Root, and then he managed to awkwardly climb over evergreen boughs on his way over to Maria. He seemed intent on discussing something with her, much to Maria's chagrin. He had been trying to discuss something with her for days now. So far, she had managed to change the subject, usually over to thoughts on Miss Carpenter. Maria was beginning to think that this time she may not be so lucky.
Maria bit her lip as she watched the little doctor approach. She must not be too openly forthright about discussing Miss Carpenter with him. Miss Carpenter had told her on no uncertain terms that she did not want to be matched with Dr. Cleese or any man. Miss Carpenter seemed totally aware of Maria's plans for her, and it was highly bothersome to hide her matchmaking efforts from the hotelkeeper's discerning eye.
But still, Maria had to try, for everyone's sake. The doctor was becoming a little more difficult to handle as of late.
"Maria," he said tenderly when he reached her side. "There's something I wish to ask of you."
Maria stifled her moan only to see Mr. Root openly smirk at them. Miss Carpenter had the good taste to turn towards the zebra head.
Maria wished that Miss Carpenter should not have to witness this. It was not good for her intended lover to be proposing something to another woman.
"Dr. Cleese, really," Maria said with a hushed voice. "Can't this wait?"
"No," he argued rather urgently, his own tones lowering down to a whisper. He clasped her hand. Maria tried to pull away, but the evergreen boughs surrounding her feet prevented a graceful escape. "Please, I beg you," he continued. "Call me 'Ephraim.' I need to ask something of you. It is something I've needed to ask of you for some time now."
Maria could feel her face redden in the horror of the situation. Once again, she tried to pull her hand away, but Dr. Cleese's grip was firm. "Shouldn't this wait until after quarantine, Doctor? This is no place to talk like this." Then she tried to change the subject. "Look how the evergreen boughs sway so beautifully over the doorway. Hasn't Mr. Root done a wonderful job? Doesn't Miss Carpenter have exquisite taste, Dr. Cleese?"
"Ephraim, Ephraim," he insisted again. "Maria, you must hear me out."
Maria did not want to hurt the man, but she could not allow him to continue. "Did you know that Miss Carpenter is going to have a Christmas party? It should be the most festive event of the season. She says that the whole town is invited."
"Maria -"the little doctor tried to continue.
"Doctor, I want you to come, too," Miss Carpenter interrupted mercifully. Mr. Root was hiding his chuckle most ineffectively.
The doctor turned to the hotelkeeper graciously as Maria managed to evade his grasp. "Thank you, Amanda. I should be delighted to come. As to the guest I would wish to invite ..." he turned back towards Maria, trying to clasp her hand again. Maria tried to back away and nearly tripped over the evergreen boughs. Luckily, the little physician grabbed her by the shoulders and prevented her from falling. He did not let her go. Instead, his hands clasped both of hers.
It was not a good situation.
"Maria," he said tenderly and in confidential tones. "Your uncle has given me permission to court you. Even your cousin Austin seemed gleeful when I asked him his permission, much to my pleasure. The only one I need to ask right now is you."
Maria bit her lip. Austin would be gleeful about giving his permission. He knew that she did not want the doctor's attentions.
But still, she did not want to hurt the man. She had to speak above Mr. Root's outright chuckle. "But you have left out one important person, Dr. Cleese. Until Newton returns to town and gives his permission, I'm afraid I can't answer you."
"Call?" he asked incredulously. "I don't see what business it is of his. Besides, he came back to town a couple of days ago."
Maria's jaw dropped. No one had told her about his arrival. Her blood brother did not make any effort to see her in all that time, either. Perhaps he did not know that she had been quarantined.
"Surely he knows I'm here," Maria told the little doctor. "You would think that he would come see me right away."
"Call is probably sitting on his bench right now," Dr. Cleese said a little disdainfully. "He could care less about what happens in this town."
Maria argued with him heatedly. "That's not true! My blood brother cares a great deal. He is the most giving and loving person I know, even though he won't show it!"
Maria turned away from the little physician, hot tears forming in her eyes. She could not believe that her dearest blood brother would not come to visit her or even say hello. When Maria was released from the quarantine, she would have to give him a piece of her mind.
Unfortunately, she had forgotten about the evergreen boughs at her feet. She tripped, and when the little doctor reached out to steady her, he tripped, as well. Luckily for her, the evergreen boughs broke her fall. Luckily for him, Maria broke his. He fell right on top of her.
Mr. Root could not contain his enjoyment of the situation. Maria could even hear Miss Carpenter chuckle.
Both Maria's and Dr. Cleese's faces reddened. Poor Dr. Cleese's eye spectacles had fallen from his head. He awkwardly tried to retrieve them while disengaging himself from her. She tried to push him away from her, but she was helpless until he actually stood up.
Maria could not remember feeling more humiliated in all her life as she tried to straighten her skirt. Dr. Cleese looked away in embarrassment as he straightened his spectacles.
It did not help matters when Maria saw Mr. Shelby's image in the window. He looked very angry. She wondered how long he had been standing there. He gave her a disgusted look and stalked away.
Maria bit her lip. This was awful. Her two favorite men in her life seemed to have disdained her very presence, and there was little she could do about it. Tears fell out her eyes in earnest.
Dr. Cleese backed away awkwardly. "Perhaps it's best I should be leaving right now. Maria, I hope to see you at the party."
Maria could only nod at him, wiping away her tears. He offered her his clean handkerchief, but Maria shook her head. He left the hotel, shaken but undeterred.
Mr. Root dodged the various evergreen boughs and came to Maria's side. He patted her tenderly on the back. "It looks right purdy in here, Maria, if that helps."
Maria gave him small smile. Mr. Root was good man.
Miss Carpenter gave her an encouraging smile.
Maria frowned. She only wished that her plans, for once, would work out the way she intended.
"Mr. Root, what are you doing?" Maria inquired of the big man.
Mr. Root hid an empty bottle behind his back.
"Nothing," he answered innocently.
Maria's eyes narrowed. Somehow, she did not believe him. Still, everyone at the Christmas party seemed to be having a good time. Almost everyone in town was there, despite that it had been a quarantine site just over a few days ago. Everyone was excited when Miss Carpenter reopened the hotel. Business bristled.
In fact, the reopening of the hotel coincided with even more shocking news. It seemed that Miss Carpenter owned the Lonesome Dove Hotel once again. Maria did not understand how she had reacquired the hotel from Mr. Mosby, but she suspected that it had something to do with those papers in Miss Carpenter's leather bag. Maria wanted to tell her blood brother her suspicions, but she was not speaking to him. She felt that the very least he could have done was visit her during her confinement. But Maria was hoping that her blood brother would come to the party. She wanted to give him his Christmas gift, but he was not there. Maria decided that her blood brother was insensitive. Surely, she could find someone else to talk to during the Christmas party.
As she sipped her punch, Maria viewed the room. Her uncle was dancing with Miss Carpenter. Maria had no idea that her uncle could dance. She briefly considered that perhaps she ought to match her uncle with the beautiful hotel owner, but then she remembered that her cousin had been seeing Miss Carpenter at one time. Her uncle Josiah read Leviticus to her once, and although she had fallen asleep during the middle of it, Maria was absolutely sure that the triangle of Josiah, Austin, and Miss Carpenter would be considered "unclean." Most things were.
Her uncle Josiah had wanted Maria to discuss Leviticus and other sections of the Old Testament with Dr. Cleese, but Maria decided to forgo that pleasure in favor of decorating the house for Christmas. Of course, the Peale men did not decorate the house at all during her absence. It was relatively clean for two single men, but it took Maria days to get it into festive shape. Not only did she have to decorate for Christmas, but she also had to get Christmas gifts with only a few days before the holiday. She had to settle for a new razor for Josiah, and Dumas' COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO for Austin.
Luckily, the watch fob that she ordered for Mr. Shelby arrived in town, but she had been unable to give it to him. She had not seen him since she left quarantine. Maria had been most worried. He seemed upset with her, and she a little unsure why. She suspected that it was her humiliation with Dr. Cleese, but she had been unable to explain to Mr. Shelby what really happened. Maria had hoped that he, too, would have been at the Christmas party, but just like Newt Call, Mr. Shelby was not there. Maria hoped that he did not come to the party because he wanted to support Mr. Mosby, not because he was avoiding her.
Maria sipped some more punch. Her cousin was dancing now with a some pretty blond girl that Maria knew worked at Twyla's. Maria frowned. She hoped that one day her cousin would find someone nice.
Maria refilled her punch glass as she watched UnBob dance with Miss Carpenter. Unbob looked remarkably sweet. Maria hoped that he would save one dance for her.
Maria had been avoiding Dr. Cleese all evening, although she was not sure how. She was glad many people of the town esteemed the doctor. He talked and socialized with many townsmen, although she noticed that his glance often strayed in her direction. Maria always took a sip of punch and looked away aloofly when she caught him looking at her. She did not want to encourage him.
Maria watched Mr. Root playing cards and drinking and laughing at his own jokes with many of the townsmen. Mr. Root was a having a great time. He even danced a jig or two. He made her breathless by just watching him.
Maria took another sip. It was awfully good punch. She would have to ask Miss Carpenter for the recipe.
Then Mr. Root was at her side. "Wanna dance, Maria?"
Maria did not know why should refuse him. In fact, he looked like a very good dancer.
Maria nodded. Her head felt curiously heavy. Mr. Root even had to help her up. Her limbs felt like they had weights on them. Her foot caught on her dress, and she fell forward into Mr. Root's arms.
Mr. Root laughed at her.
In fact, Maria had lost all her grace. She had a difficult time standing up.
Mr. Root laughed again. "You'd better sit down, Maria. Here, have some more punch."
Maria nodded at him as he bounded away. She downed her glass as she watched a fight develop at the card table. Miss Carpenter quickly intervened, and all was well once again. Maria somehow thought the incident was funny. She began to giggle.
She watched Mr. Root hold a man's hat above his head. She thought he was very funny. She giggled at him.
Mr. Root came to her side again. "Come on," he said. "Let's dance."
Maria giggled, trying to place her punch glass on the table. The glass tipped at the edge and crashed to the floor. The punch splattered onto her dress. Maria slapped her knee, overcome with laughter.
Mr. Root helped her up. She was still giggling. She stopped, however when the room began to spin.
"Misser Root, you phut me down right now!" she demanded. Her tongue felt about two times its normal size.
He chuckled at her. "All right. You sit right here. I'll get you some more punch."
Maria nodded at him. It was pretty hot in there.
"Maria?" she heard a new voice ask.
Her eyes opened to find Dr. Cleese. He smiled tenderly at her.
"Do you realize where you're sitting, Maria?"
Maria looked at him in confusion. She did not understand much of anything right now. Her mind was rather muddled.
He pointed up to the ceiling. As her eyes slowly focused, she realized what was directly above her. Maria tried to move, but it was too late. Dr. Cleese took advantage of the situation that the mistletoe presented and kissed her.
Maria fell off her chair. Dr. Cleese looked dismayed.
"Maria, you've been drinking," he said with a certain amount of astonishment.
Maria tried to get up. "I haf not!"
Dr. Cleese helped her back to her chair. "You stay right here. I'll get Austin to help take you home."
Maria was not going to wait for Dr. Cleese to come back to kiss her again. Besides, the someone that should have been kissing her that very instant was not there.
Suddenly, it became very important for Maria to find out why Mr. Shelby was not there, and more importantly, why he was not kissing her. It was high time that she demanded satisfaction. She was not going to take this sitting down.
Her hand weighed a ton, and it took a great deal of effort to knock on the door of the Ambrosia Club. Maria did not understand why the saloon had been closed in the first place. Her hand met air when the door suddenly opened. She had to catch herself from falling down.
Mr. Mosby was at the door.
"Miss Bennett?" he asked in confusion.
"I wanna talk wif your fren if you don mine, Misser Mosbee," Maria demanded. "Shay, iss he here?"
Maria tried to peek her head inside the saloon, but the weight of head tipped her whole body forward. Mr. Mosby caught her.
"Why, Miss Bennett, you're drunk!" Mr. Mosby exclaimed. Laughter was evident in his voice.
Maria was insulted by his accusation. "I neffer drink likker. You know thhat. All I had wass liddle bit a punsch. It wass very good punsch. I want Misss Carpenter's ressipee. Shay, iss it hott in here?" She had to lift her head in order to look into Mr. Mosby's eyes. "Whaddya doing all the way up there? You're a pretty tall fella!"
Mr. Mosby supported her as he helped her into the saloon.
Soon, Mr. Shelby was at their side. He, too, was confused by her condition. "What the hell is going on here?"
"Judging by the smell of her breath, Robert, I'd say the punch was spiked at Amanda's Christmas party. Imagine if Maria is this drunk how everyone else is. Amanda probably has a real problem on her hands right now. Pity I can't help her."
Mr. Shelby helped Mr. Mosby pour Maria into a chair. Maria saw some medals on a nearby table and a couple glasses of whiskey. Maria thought that those medals would make fancy earrings. She began to giggle.
"I'm going to have to take her home, Clay."
"Take care Josiah doesn't see you. He'll probably think you got her that way."
"Gott me whut way?" Maria demanded. "No one's gott me any way, thenk you very much." Maria's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Shay, whut are we talking about anyway? I know my own way home. I don need anybody to show me home. It'sh just over there." She pointed behind her and promptly fell on floor again.
She began to laugh.
Mr. Mosby and Mr. Shelby helped her up. The two men were chuckling.
"Yesh, thish is all very funny," Maria admitted. It was not very funny, however, when Dr. Cleese kissed her underneath the mistletoe earlier that evening. "He kished me know," she told Mr. Shelby. Then she regarded Mr. Mosby. "You men are all alike. Getcha underneath the mishletoe, and they thenk they can do anytheng."
Mr. Mosby laughed nervously and gave Mr. Shelby a small shrug.
Then Maria turned towards Mr. Shelby. "All oft this is your fault anyway. You should've been kishing me instead of the docter. Whut's wrong wif me anyway? Don'tcha like me? Miss Carpenter's says I should be wearing somefin that shows my asssets to my best advantich. My aunt Elinor said that I shouldn't dresh like a hussy. It'sh not right, don'tcha think so?"
Mr. Mosby suppressed his laugh as Mr. Shelby commented, "Your aunt's right, and who's been kissing you?"
Maria rose indignantly. "You men are all alike. My aunt Elinor sez thhat you men all want one theng. You know what I mean? Good, cuz I don't know what I mean. Shay, I don't feel so good. I'd better set down." With that, she plopped back into her chair. Then she looked up at Mr. Shelby. "Do you want me, or don'tcha?"
Mr. Shelby smiled, and then answered, "We'll talk about that later, Maria. Right now, I'd better get you home." He put his arms around her waist and lifted her up from the chair. Maria's eyelids felt very heavy.
"I wanna go home," Maria told him.
"I'm going to get you there, sweetheart," Mr. Shelby said. "Just put your arms around me."
Maria thought that was a very good idea.
"Coming, Clay?" Mr. Shelby asked.
Mr. Mosby shook his head. "She's your problem, not mine."
"Am I problem, Robert?" Maria asked pitifully. Tears began to form in her eyes. "I don't wanna be a problem. Honess I don't." Maria hiccoughed loudly. "Newton doeshn't want me around. Now you dohn't want me around. I didn even get any Christmas pressents. Nobody luffs me."
With that, Maria sobbed uncontrollably into Mr. Shelby's shoulder. It was so difficult to continue living when nobody loved her.
"There, there now," she heard Mr. Shelby say as she buried her head under his arm. "Let's get you home, shall we?"
"You're awefull nice. You'fe been a perfec genelman. I'm soo glad I know you."
Mr. Shelby nodded, chuckling. "We're going home now."
Maria allowed him to guide her. As they turned, her eyes caught a glimpse of Mr. Mosby's painting behind the bar. She frowned.
"She's awefull pretty," she said in small voice. "Her back's so pretty. Not like mine, " she admitted. "You woun't like it if you saw it."
Mr. Shelby gave her a confused look, and then glanced over at Mr. Mosby. Mr. Mosby frowned, shaking his head. He motioned for Mr. Shelby to help her home.
"I'm sure your back's just fine, sweetheart," Mr. Shelby said, stroking the length of her back. "Come on. Let's go."
Maria did not hear him. She passed out into the comfort that he offered her.
"What are these for?" Mr. Call asked as he examined the contents of his package.
"Christmas," Maria said in a soft voice. It was the next morning. Her head was throbbing terribly.
"What do I need with mittens?"
"They keep your hands warm," she managed to say.
"They don't even have fingers in them. How am I supposed to shoot my gun? Can't be wearing mittens."
Her head felt like it was going to explode. She did not need any further discussion on the matter. "Just hush and put your scarf on before I turn around and choke you with it. Just be grateful you got something. I didn't get anything for Christmas except this headache."
In fact, she wished that she was dead.
"Newton, I'll give you fifty dollars to just shoot me," she moaned miserably.
He put down his package, smirked, and looked off aloofly. "You shouldn't have been drinking."
"Newton, I didn't know. I swear it. The last thing I remember was being at the Ambrosia Club. I don't even remember how I ended up in my own bed. How can you stand drinking until you cannot remember things?"
"Sometimes that's the whole point, Maria."
"Think of all the horrible things I could have done last night. Austin told me that I threw up in Uncle Josiah's shoe. I feel terrible."
Mr. Call smirked.
Maria then looked up to see the stage coach driver walking towards them.
"Some party you missed, Call. Everyone had a hell of time."
Maria moaned as his voice boomed into her ears.
Mr. Root laughed at her. "How are you feeling, Maria?"
"Someone put alcohol in the punch," Maria explained. She put her head into her hands. "I wish you hadn't kept refilling my glass. I feel terrible."
"I'm right sorry," Mr. Root said loudly.
Mr. Call scrutinized him. "Wouldn't have anything to do with that, now would you, Luther?"
Mr. Root grinned and offered her his whiskey flask. "It'll make you feel better."
Maria took one look at his whiskey flask and clasped her hand to her mouth.
As she was running home, she heard Mr. Root ask Mr. Call, "Say, do wanna have a little fun?"
The knock on the door sounded as if someone was taking a battering ram to it. Maria did not want to venture outside the house for the remainder of the day, but no one was getting the door.
"Austin ... " she called out weakly. The only answer was renewed pounding on the door.
"Uncle Josiah ..." she called to the other member of the household as she fumbled for her glasses.
Maria decided that it was only her head pounding, not the door. She relaxed back down into her bed.
"Maria?" she heard Mr. Shelby's voice call out to her, followed by more vigorous pounding on the door.
Maria shot up out of bed and instantly regretted it. She held her head in her hands and moaned. She stumbled over to the mirror. She looked awful. There was no way she could receive him.
He still pounded on the door. He must have known that she was there.
"Just a minute," she called out to him. She straightened her hair as best she could.
She opened the door and squinted. It was too bright a day.
Mr. Shelby stood in the doorway. He had something behind his back.
"How are you feeling this afternoon, Maria? I hope I'm not disturbing you."
She winced. "Not in the slightest. Do come in."
As he entered the room, Maria told him, "Uncle Josiah wants the curtains drawn today. I hope you don't mind."
He grinned. "No importance. Look, I have something to give you."
Maria had something to give him, too. She had hidden it underneath her bed so Austin could not find it. "Stay right here. I'll be right back."
He stopped her. "I should have given this to you last night, but you were ... indisposed."
Maria blushed. She remembered very little of what happened the night before. She had hoped that parts she did remember about Mr. Shelby had been a bad dream.
"I didn't say anything ... improper, did I?"
She looked at him with all the hope in heart.
He grinned again. His voice lowered. "You did ask something, which now I feel need to reply."
He revealed what he had been hiding behind his back. Maria's eyes widened at the present. She rushed forward to receive her gift, but he snatched it back from her eager clutches.
"Never mind that now. We have something more important to discuss."
Maria's lower lip jutted out into something of a pout. "All right."
Mr. Shelby chuckled at her. His voice became husky, "You do remember what you asked me, don't you?"
Maria feared that whatever she had said had been unseemly. "No," she answered in a small voice.
Mr. Shelby dropped his package onto a nearby chair. He edged slowly toward her. He took her by the shoulders. "Well, sweetheart. I'm afraid the answer is 'yes.'"
Her heart beat wildly. "What did I ask?"
"Only this."
The warmth of his lips enveloped hers. His lips tenderly moved over hers, causing her heart to beat even more madly. She savored every drink he took from her, and soon his lips became more insistent. Her mouth responded eagerly to his, and he pulled her in closer. In annoyance, he slid off her spectacles and kissed her again. She protested when his mouth left hers, but soon she found satisfaction when he began to roam across her face and along her neck. Then he reluctantly pulled away from her. He placed the spectacles back on her face. He grinned at her.
Maria had to catch her breath. She grinned at him, too. She straightened her hair and her dress and cleared her throat. Then she remembered.
"Stay right there," she commanded him. "Don't move a muscle."
"I wouldn't dream of it," he said, still boyishly grinning at her.
She ran into her bedroom and dived underneath the bed to find his gift. Then she ran over to the mirror and straightened her hair again. She had a delicate blush on her face.
Grinning, she stepped into the parlor and presented him with his gift. He smiled at her.
He opened his gift and his eyes squinted at the contents. Then he grinned again. "A watch fob. Oh, the irony, my dear. Do you have any more?"
Maria's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Do you like it? Look, I had it engraved." She rushed over to show him, and their hands brushed.
His eyes sparkled. "I like it just fine." His hand held hers.
Maria thought perhaps that he might kiss her in gratitude, so she prepared herself. She tilted her head up to be kissed, but he disappointed her.
"Now your turn," he said, chuckling at her. He retrieved her present from the chair.
Maria examined the wrapped gift. She could not remember the last time someone had given her something. It was beautiful.
She opened her prized possession as delicately as she could.
Mr. Shelby had little patience for that. "Just rip it," he commanded.
She looked at him with a questioning eye.
"Go on. Rip it," he nodded.
She smiled and did as he said. It felt good to rip open her present.
Then she gasped. It was a beautiful sterling silver dresser set. The brush, comb, and mirror were all engraved with the letter 'M.'
"Oh, Robert," she whispered, tears forming in her large blue eyes. "It's wonderful." She clasped his hands.
"You like it then?" he asked.
She shyly kissed him on the cheek.
"Good," he commented, grinning at her.
Then he took her present and dropped it on the chair. He clasped her chin and his lips enveloped hers again.
Maria decided that she really liked that. She pulled him towards her, but he chuckled.
"Sweetheart, I best be going." He unwrapped her arms from around him.
"You don't have to go," she protested.
His eyes roamed appreciatively over her form. He stepped back from her. "Yes, I do, or your uncle will have my hide."
He nodded at her, grinning. "Merry Christmas, Maria."
She smiled back at him. "Merry Christmas, Robert."
She waved at him as she closed the door. She leaned against it, her heart skipping a beat. Then she danced over to the chair with her presents.
It was a good Christmas after all.
April 2003