CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Candy grows on
“I’m sorry,” Luke said patting Catherine on the leg, “I thought we would be home, but I guess home is somewhere else.” As he talks to Catherine he pulls the wagon up to the hitching rail in front of Lang’s Mercantile store in Albertville. “Let’s load up with supplies – we need beans, bacon, salt, flour, coffee, sugar if they have it and whatever else you think we need to get to Scarlett.”
Nate and Sam follow Luke as he steps upon the board sidewalk in front of the store, “Luke, you knows wes ain’t got no hard money to buy supplies with,” said Nate.
“Yeap, you’re right,” said Luke walking around to the rear of Nate’s wagon and removing a Henry rifle. They all walk into the store; Nate and Sam begin picking up the needed supplies and pile them on the counter. They are both worried that Luke is going to rob the store for their supplies.
Catherine moves over to the women’s apparel and stands in front of a full-length mirror trying on frilly hats. First she tries on one, ties the ribbon under her chin, turns her head one way then the other. Tries others, doing the same with each. Luke sees her standing in front of the mirror and slips up behind her. Putting his arms around her waist, he places his mouth close to her ear and whispers, “That one is sure pretty – pretty hat for a pretty lady.”
“Oh shush, I was just looking. Now go on about your business.”
As Luke walks away grinning, he looks back over his shoulder at Catherine and quietly says to her, “I thought I was going about my business.”
Nate and Sam pass a display case filled with glass bowls full of hard candies. “My, oh my, Sam, it has been a month of Sundays since I done had me one of these here sweets.”
“Well Nate, you’ve done better’n me, I ain’t never tasted one of ’em.”
“Oh, now Sam, I jest wish you could get a taste of that yeller one there,” Nate said pointing with his finger. “Them candies come from somethin’ called a limmen tree – feller sez to me once they grow on trees sommers in a place called Floriday. They must harden up once you pluck’em from the limbs.”
Luke walks by and hears them talking. He overhears Nate trying to explain the lemon drop candy, and the look of awe on Sam’s face as Nate tells him about them. Luke grins and walks on.
All the goods are piled on the counter; the clerk removes a pencil from behind his ear and starts scribbling on a scrap of paper. “Well sir,” says he, “your bill comes to twelve dollars and fifty cents even.”
“All right,” replies Luke, “but I believe I’ll have me a poke full of them lemon drop candies and the Missus will take that blue bonnet she last tried on.”
“Why Luke that cost a dollar and a half,” exclaims Malinda.
“Let’s see now, twelve fifty plus the bonnet, that’ll make fourteen dollars. Then add in ten cents for the bag of hard candy, I believe your total will be, let’s see now, yeah that’s right, fourteen dollars and ten cents.”
“Sounds about right,” said Luke placing the Henry down on the counter. Nate and Sam cringe, here it comes they think. Sam turns away he can’t watch. Nate hopes Luke won’t kill the young kid behind the counter. Maybe he’ll just wing him in the arm or something.
“Fourteen dollars and ten cents huh? That seems fair,” Luke picks up the Henry. He cocks the lever, chambering a cartridge into the rifle. Sam shuts his eyes; he can’t stand the sight of the blood he knows is about to start flowing.
Raising the rifle, Luke says, “I’m afraid I have to...”
‘Oh no,’ thought Nate, ‘here it comes. Please, dear Lord I pray, please don’t let Mister Luke kilt this young, white boy!’
“To...to...” continues Luke.
“Yes sir, you have a question?”
“Yes, I’m afraid I do not have enough funds to pay for my purchases, how about a trade, this gun for your goods?”
“But...but...Mister that there is a Henry repeating rifle! I’ll have to go in back and get Mr. Lang, the owner.”
Coming from the back hurries a portly man, wearing a white shirt with black garters holding up his long sleeves. He has a green visor on his baldhead and a black vest that’s a tad too small for his paunchy belly. His cigar is now nothing but a stub; it has long since burned out. His eyeglasses balance precariously on the end of his nose. He appears to be a man with a very unpleasant disposition. “What the galldurn is goin’ on up here Fred, can’t you handle something simple as checking these folks out?”
“Yes sir, Mr. Lang, but they want to trade for the goods.”
“Trade, we don’t trade! It’s cash on the barrelhead. Cash I tell you. You know my policy Fred, good old U.S. greenbacks, none of that Confederate stuff neither. What you folks think, my fine establishment is a Swap and Shop?” Mr. Lang said thrashing his arms about in a threatening manner.
Luke picks up the rifle, “We’d like to trade you this rifle for our supplies.”
“Hen...Hen...Henry! That’s a sixteen shot Henry repeating rifle Mister. There has never been one in these parts. Ain’t that the gun they say you can load on Sunday and shoot all week?”
“Well,” says Luke, “There it is, and you can be its proud, new owner, and I’ll throw in ten, no make that fifteen extra .44 caliber cartridges to go with this Henry, lever-action, breech-loading beauty, but as far as shooting it all week, I’ve found I usually have to load her again around Thursday!”
“Well Fred, what you waiting for? Get these fine folk’s supplies loaded up in their wagon,” Mr. Lang said over his shoulder as he admiringly rubbed his hand along the rifle as he walked back to his office.
* * * * *
Riding out of Albertville Nate and Sam grin as they suck on the lemon drops and watch the wagon ahead as Catherine ties the blue ribbon on her new hat. They know Scarlettsville can’t be but a couple of weeks away. “Giddy up, horses, we got some more traveling to do.”