CHAPTER 14
Girl & A Dance
Eggs & Guardianship
Lending A Hand & The Wrong Side
Dinner At Eddie’s
THE entire town of Caswell Crossing turned out for the picnic. It reminded Gideon of an anthill someone had kicked up. One trestle table after another bent under the weight of endless food. The grass was a quilt work of blankets. Men played horseshoes, children ran giggling and women gathered in affable, chit-chatting flocks. An army of wagons, buggies, horses— anything that could serve as transport— defined the outer edges of the crowd.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Ember pulled at Lee, eager to be in the thick of whatever he could find.
“Ember,” Amos dropped a spoke in the wheel of his son’s plans, “pay your respects to your aunt first.”
“Aw, Pa, that could take forever.”
“It will take as long as it takes.”
“Yes, sir,” Ember relented, unwilling to upset his father on such a fine day, especially with that brunette over there looking at him with a smile that—
“Ember?”
“Hmm? Yeah, Pa?”
“Your aunt.”
“Yes, sir,” Ember grinned, fairly caught.
Fort gave his brother a helpful nudge in the right direction whilst the rest of his family laughed at his expense. Ember took it good-naturedly, too used to it to mind and too intelligent to blame the chaffing on anyone but himself.
Over by a creek fringed by gently rustling aspens, the Rivers found the woman who had flat insisted they attend the annual town picnic. Her long, brown hair was braided in a youthful fashion and glistened slightly red in the bright sunlight. Her cotton dress made it clear she preferred function to fashion, confining any elegance per se to the delicate floral pattern of the fabric. She rose at their approach and her eyes, as pale green as her brother’s, sparkled.
“Eddie, good to see you,” Amos greeted, wrapping the woman in a two-armed hug that she returned with equal enthusiasm.
“If you had missed today—” she said, still holding onto his shoulders.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Amos interrupted his little sister’s threat with a kiss to her cheek.
“Because you know I’d hunt you down,” Eddie continued anyway.
“I confess, the thought occurred.”
“Uncle Amos, look!”
A boy stood in the stream, the legs of his britches rolled up, and hand held out to exhibit a treasure too small to be seen. Obediently, Amos stepped to the edge of the creek and examine it properly.
Behind him, Eddie embraced Cricket and her beaming face turned serious, or tried to.
“I’m going to beat you this year,” she boasted.
“No, ma’am,” Cricket asserted, shaking his head. “Not last year. Not this year.”
The baking contest had become a point of competition between them and, though friendly, they took great pleasure in bantering over which of them would win. No other entrant mattered in the least, the rest of the world could place as it liked. Even if Cricket and Eddie both came in dead last, still they would hash out to the last grain who had been more last than the other.
“Aunt Eddie, this is Gideon Fletcher,” Aspen declared, taking up the introductions. “We’ve taken to calling him Gov. Gov, this is Aunt Eddie. Her boy there is Gabe and somewhere around here are Fred and Uncle James.”
“Another one who doesn’t go by their given name, that seems to be the way in this family. I’m pleased to finally make your acquaintance.”
“Ma’am,” Gideon offered politely, if laconically.
“Alright, boys, you’ve upheld your social responsibilities to your aunt, now get out of here. Go on with you,” Eddie shooed her family away, knowing they were eager to be off.
“Mind the alcohol and stay out of trouble,” Amos called after them. “You hear me, Ember?”
Ember tossed a ‘Sure, Pa’ over his shoulder like last year’s penny and quickly melted into the masses.
“Aren’t you going with him, Lee?” asked Fort, setting off more sedately.
“Nah, let him get into mischief first,” Lee answered, falling into step. “Fetching him out will give me something to do. Come on, Cricket. We’ll beat you at horseshoes.”
The cook caught them up and Gideon heard Cricket’s fading voice suggest that Lee did not have the grounds to brag.
“What about you?” Eddie asked, turning to Aspen.
“Oh, I brought that new treatise and—”
“Absolutely not,” Eddie stopped him. “You will find yourself a game, or a horserace, or mercy me join the thing. Fly a kite, for pity’s sake. Off with you, do as you’re told. If I see you with so much as the Good Book in your hands today, you will regret it.”
Eddie gave her over-serious nephew a push to reinforce her words. Aspen leaned down, gave her a peck on the forehead and let himself be shoved.
“Was that your latest mission of mercy I just saw with Aspen?” James asked, a few minutes later.
It wasn’t exactly any of his business, but Amos had been a friend for years. James had even married Amos’s sister; if that didn’t allow a fellow some leeway, he didn’t know what did.
“If you are referring to a wild looking, half-starved stick of a young man, then yes, that was the latest addition to my boisterous mob,” Amos happily agreed, not taking his attention from his young nephew.
“Do you think this wise?”
Amos stared up at James then down at himself, trousers brazenly rolled up, boots off and a rumpled sock dangling from his hand. Intentionally misunderstanding, he regarded his business partner.
“I do. It’s been too long since I chased water skeeters.”
Stifling a laugh, Eddie took her husband’s arm. “Relax, James. Amos can swim.”
“You both know what I mean. Be serious.”
Eddie silently informed Amos that her husband was being silly and would he please be kind enough to deal with this. Unaware of the sibling exchange, James continued to voice his concerns.
“He could get anywhere in this crowd. I know it’s your business, Rivers, but someone has to say it. You should keep a closer watch on that young man.”
Gabriel paused in his play to listen. Grown up talk was usually boring, but this sounded like that new boy was headed for a scolding and he wasn’t even there to know it.
“Uncle James,” Gabe spoke up boldly, “when I slept at the ranch you told me not to worry, ‘cause Aspen’d look out for me. You were right too, he’s great at looking after folks. He’ll look after Gov.”
Eddie bit her lip. Out of the mouths of babes. She tried to look serious for her husband’s benefit, but Gabe had an excellent point.
“You’re right,” Amos agreed with the boy. “Aspen is pretty responsible. And you know what? Gov gave his solemn word to be on his very best behavior today.”
Not that he would have any truck giving such a thing to Amos, but he did promise the boys.
“Ooh, you can’t break that kind-a promise,” said Gabriel with conviction. “That’s like a spit-shake.”
“Does your new boy know that?” James asked doubtfully.
“Trust has to start somewhere,” Amos shrugged. “If something happens, I’ll deal with it. For now, I have skeeters to catch. Where’s that big fellow you saw, Gabe?”
Some while later, Gideon discovered Lee lurking behind a tree trunk. He sidled up and followed Lee’s gaze. Fort stood amongst the overburdened food tables and looked to be in trouble. The big man raised his hands in obvious plea and a white-haired old lady raised a massive wooden spoon in obvious warning. Fort tried again. The spoon came up and he beat a hasty escape through the maze of tables.
“What’d that ol’ gal have on ya?” Gideon asked, when Fort reached the relative safety of the tree.
“I only wanted a taste of that pie,” Fort admitted, chagrined at his defeat.
“Doesn’t look like she was minded to share,” Lee ribbed, and sniggered when Fort gave
him a shove.
Gideon sized up the tables with a calculating eye, tapped Lee on the arm, and indicated a girl opening a picnic basket well removed from the table where Fort had tried.
“Lee, go make yourself a nuisance with that pink thing yonder. Fort, stay put an’ take you a lesson.”
Gideon approached a table, lifted the corner of a covering cloth and pinched a large cake as if he had perfectly legitimate business with someone else’s culinary treat. He even tipped his hat to a passing bit of yellow fluff who proved to be a friend of the pink girl. At the other end of the row, Lee was being roundly scolded by both young women whilst Gideon openly walked away.
“Nothin’ to it,” he bragged, kneeling beside Fort.
“You are bold,” Fort half accused, but it was mostly praise since his interest lay in a full stomach and Gideon had the cake. “Let me have some.”
“Gimme your knife. C’mon, I ain’t gonna scalp ya.”
Gideon made a show of cutting several generous slices. He licked the blade clean, wiped it across his britches for good measure and handed the knife back.
“Mmmm,” Gideon sighed, in genuine appreciation for pure perfection. Fort reached for a slice, but Gideon wedged himself between man and plate. “Eh-eh. I done got this. Lee there done stood distraction. You want in, put in. High tail it an’ get us a beer.”
“Beer?” Fort echoed.
“Beer. Comes in barrels. Goes in a glass.”
“I don’t think Pa would approve.”
“He said ‘mind’ the alcohol, not avoid it,” Gideon pointed out. “Mmm, this might could be the best I ever done et.”
“You’re too little to eat the whole thing,” Fort bet.
Deliciously moist cake melted on Gideon’s tongue and he radiated pure, unadulterated mischief.
“Try me,” he mumbled, around another huge bite.
“Where’s Fort headed?” Lee asked, lowering himself to the grass.
“Doin’ his part.”
Lee had no idea what Gideon meant, but there was no time like the present to do his part on that cake. Within minutes Fort jogged up and handed over a mug.
“Nancy,” Gideon said, accepting the lemonade.
“Call me that when there’s not food between us,” Fort warned, and dug in with a will.
A fellow had to establish his priorities. Fort had three years to one-up Gideon, at current rate the cake wouldn’t last three minutes.
When the dessert had been demolished to the last crumb, the Rivers wandered off and Gideon found himself sitting on an abandoned bench. Stomach full and conscience clear, he watched the mill and flow of strangers.
Be mighty easy to dis’pear, wouldn’t it?
Yep. Only you done did promised to stay put.
Gideon thought about kicking himself. He would probably never get a more perfect opportunity. But he had said it, and blast him for a fool, he would not break his word.
Why d’ya fig’r they chanced it?
Danged if’n I know.
Mebbe they trust ya?
Can’t see why. They ain’t got ‘em no cause.
But Ember had dragged Lee off after a gaggle of girls and here Gideon was, alone. Those two, they were just kids, but no one else was looking over Gideon’s shoulder either. He had to admit, it made for a nice change.
People drifted, talking and laughter, color and movement. Gideon did not feel at ease with so many souls all in one place. How could a body watch their back in such a crowd? He felt an even sharper discomfort at such widespread gaiety. These people were blissfully unaware of how abruptly their world could shatter.
The sensation of someone standing nearby made Gideon turn. A wheat-blond girl, perhaps seventeen years old, regarded him expectantly.
“I said: nice picnic, isn’t it?”
Gideon didn’t rise, but did touch his hat politely. “Yes, miss.”
“Mind if I sit down?” she indicated the empty space beside him on the bench.
Gideon hadn’t known too many young people, nor that many women either. This one was slim with red lips, creamy skin and friendly eyes that stared openly at him from under long lashes. She was still standing and he hastily budged up to make room. They sat, side by side, the fabric of her lavender skirt brushing his hand and him having no idea what to say.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen you before,’ the girl ventured helpfully.
“Ain’t from ‘round here, miss.”
“Where are you from?”
“North a-ways.”
How could he answer a question like that? Being ‘from’ somewhere meant having roots, attachments, folks waiting for you. He had never been that kind. The girl favored him with a smile as sweet as. . . Gideon didn’t rightly know if he had anything to stand in comparison.
“Well, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.” The girl brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. “Are you visiting family?”
“Sally, is this guy bothering you?”
The rough words came from a pudgy-faced specimen who thought himself closer to manhood than he was. His dark features matched his intent; the interruption was meant as a challenge to Gideon rather than any courtesy to the girl.
Sally’s spine stiffened. “It is considered good manners to welcome a newcomer.”
“Him? He ain’t no new comer! He’s that horse thief the sheriff caught.”
There were certain things anyone with a lick of sense knew not to say. Calling a man a liar, a coward, or a horse thief sat smack bang on the top on the list. Committing any of these social offenses was apt to get you shot where you stood, no questions asked.
No trouble, ya promised.
With every passing second Gideon found himself wondering what on earth had possessed him to make such a promise, because there was a very simple and direct way to deal with people like this. Oh well.
“Miss,” he said, ignoring the insult and the idiot offering it, “my name’s Gideon Fletcher. Would you—”
The intruder gave Gideon a shove. “Hey, I’m talking to you boy. I’m Chase Rydel and you’d best remember it.”
Gideon looked the larger boy over. On a day when clean trousers and rolled up sleeves would fit the bill, he was turned out like a rooster. A strutting, pompous rooster who thought he owned the yard.
“I’ll do that,” Gideon replied, neighborly like. “Reckon that’s ‘bout all I’m a-gonna do the rest-a my natural born days is rec’llect your name.”
Sally stood up. “Let’s get a lemonade, Gideon.”
“That’s right, hide behind a girl.” Rydel made a rude noise. “Better hurry before she swishes her skirts at her next boy.”
And there it was again– another hard walking fear merchant who thought his five inches of greater height and thick build was a permit for a thick brain. There was no permit for speaking that way in front of a lady.
Gideon’s fist smashed into Rydel’s face. The blow knocked the arrogant rooster back, blood dripping from his nose. Gideon would have left it, but Rydel charged, sending them both tumbling over the bench. They rolled, grasping and swinging. Rydel’s fist was arching toward Gideon’s face, and Gideon’s knee was about to significantly reduce Rydel’s chances at achieving familial prosperity, when wiser minds interrupted the disagreement and stronger hands dragged them apart.
“You’re lucky,” Rydel sneered. “I would’ve whipped you senseless!”
“Chase, you’re lucky I don’t let go.”
Sheriff Gandy’s voice came from right beside Gideon’s ear. At a gesture from the lawman, Rydel was taken elsewhere. For a moment Gideon wondered where, and then he realized he did not care. Sally, eager to know Gideon was unhurt, waited for his nod before allowing herself to be ushered away by a flurry of girlfriends.
“Next time hit him in the stomach,” Gandy advised. “He had the reach of you and the weight. Hit him in the gut, then use that left of yours.”
Gideon gaped.
“What? You think I don?
??t know Chase is a bully looking for a reason?” Gandy said, releasing his grip. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Now what?
Beats me.
Was he under arrest or merely under escort? Was he possibly under neither and this lawman was simply looking after him out of the sheer goodness of his heart?
Yeah, right.
Gideon knelt at the creek to wash the blood from his face and knuckles. He took the faded kerchief the sheriff offered, still looking for the catch and wondering if it might be him.
“That was good,” Gandy opinioned, “about remembering Rydel’s name.”
“You were a-watchin’,” Gideon said, and it was no question.
“Only because I happened to be there. Have you seen the contests? I hear Ember is trying to convince the boys to enter a race. Seems there’s a girl and a dance involved.”
Gideon decided to play along with the diversion and they found the Rivers clustered around a trestle table.
“What happened to you?” said Aspen.
“Chase Rydel insulted Sally Calder. Gideon decked him,” Gandy explained.
“That Chase needs a good kick in the britches,” Fort opinioned. “Did you blow his lamp out?”
“Blacked his eye for ‘im,” Gideon confessed.
“Good for you,” Ember heartily approved. “Here, take this. Let’s go.”
Gideon stood, a length of thick cord in his hand.
“The race? For the ribbons?” Ember prompted. “Come on!”
Ember cajoled his brothers and even gave his charm some exercise to persuade Aspen to join in. The goal was for pairs of runners, joined at the ankles, to reach the finish line and claim one of the hair ribbons donated by a young lady. The owner of the ribbon would give a dance to the man who held her ribbon. Aspen and Gideon ran together, coming in fourth. Gideon gladly gave his ribbon to Ember.
Afternoon turned inexorably towards evening. People ate and talked, until the sound mixed into a jumble that echoed soft and clear on the twilight. Eventually, someone pulled a bow across a fiddle and the scattered crowed let out a resounding cheer.
Ember scolded Gideon to sharpen himself up, a suggestion Gideon ignored, but Ember wouldn’t quit. He fussed and fidgeted, brushing the dust from Gideon’s clothes and doing up his vest buttons.
“Leave be,” Gideon protested irritably, slapping away the mothering hands.
“Where’s your coat and necktie?” Ember persisted.
Gideon shrugged, disinterested in such items.
“If you lost my coat. . .”
“It ain’t lost.”
“Then where is it?”
“Right here,” Cricket stepped up and held the coat out to Gideon, who groaned his appreciation.
Ember didn’t even ask about the necktie. He searched the coat pockets himself until he found the length of blue ribbon and deftly secured it in place.
“Give over, you’ll strangle me, so ya will,” Gideon complained.
“The ladies like a well-dressed gentleman. In your case, this will have to do. Aw, Lee, not you too!”
Ember’s attention shifted to his doppelganger. A dark stain marred the front of his white shirt and Ember insisted Lee button his coat to hide the blemish. Gideon made use of the distraction to shimmy out of the noose known to fancier men as a necktie. He had never worn one before and felt disinclined to acquire the habit. The coat was about to follow when Aspen appeared and changed Gideon’s mind for him.
“It won’t hurt you to look respectable for a few hours,” Aspen declared, redoing the tie.
“Get a move on,” Ember directed, after a final survey of his siblings. “I don’t want to leave the ladies waiting.”
Gideon tagged along, but drifted to the sidelines. From there he could observe and still vicariously partake in the festivities. How could he even think buried in amongst such a swarm of humanity? The thought occurred to keep an eye out for Rydel. His kind wouldn’t let things lie.
Gideon fetched himself a drink and found an isolated spot in case Amos really did mind. He couldn’t see why the old man would, he could handle beer and had for years.
Stars began to twinkle and hanging lamps were lit around the edges of the makeshift dance floor.
“What are you doing over here?” Fort asked, stepping into Gideon’s patch of solitude.
Gideon supposed he was being checked up on, and he couldn’t blame Fort, at least not very much. His nod of acknowledgment included Ember into the bargain. What a sight that was, the two of them side by side. Alone, Fort lived up to his name. Next to Ember. . . Ember could get lost in his brother’s shadow at noon. And their looks, who would ever guess they were related, let alone brothers?
“Have you danced yet?” asked Ember.
“You’re s’posed to ask one-a them frilly things, not me,” Gideon replied.
“Have you asked anyone?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?” Ember persisted.
As an utter flirt he couldn’t imagine passing up time with any halfway decent looking girl. Evidently, Ember had taken it into his head to act as a social trail guide.
“I’m partial to watchin’,” Gideon answered.
“You know how don’t you?” Fort asked.
“Sure, ya open your eyes an’ stare at folks,” Gideon said, deliberately obtuse.
“No, dancing,” Ember corrected.
“Reckon. Only it’s been awhile.”
The dancing Gideon knew was nothing like the sedate display he had been watching. The called dances were familiar, the men at the camps had done that sort of thing when they felt like cutting loose and the whiskey had been flowing. No women had been present there though.
“Say, that’s right,” Ember exclaimed. “This is your first do. Come with me.”
In the darkness beyond the dance floor the brothers walked Gideon through some basic steps. Gideon tried to refuse, but against their united effort he hadn’t a prayer.
“May I cut in?” said a sweet, female voice.
“Miss Calder. I were, I mean they were . . .” Gideon stumbled to a halt, his cheeks growing warm, and him hoping it was too dark for anyone to notice.
“Well?” Sally asked, holding out a hand.
Gideon flashed the boys a look of pure desperation.
“Go on, it’s impolite to leave a lady standing,” Fort said, utterly failing to be of any use.
Ember only offered an annoying smirk that really would cost him later. Somehow, Gideon’s feet betrayed him as well and he found himself walking beside Sally Calder. She proved to be a courteous partner and gracefully made up for his own magnificent lack of experience.
“Will you be staying in Caswell Crossing?” she asked, steering them away from another couple.
“Don’t aim to, miss.”
“Oh? Don’t you like the view?” she teased.
“Country’s mighty pretty, miss, only I’ll likely head out Nebraska way.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, Gideon didn’t know where he would go. “Ya don’t take to Chase Rydel, do ya?”
“No.”
“Sorry, miss, din’t mean to upset ya none.”
“Not at all, you’re much too kind to upset me.”
Mercy, but there had to be some way to stop her flirting. Gideon hadn’t any use for a girl. He already courted enough grief as it stood.
“Ain’t some local boy in’erested in a pretty girl like you?” he tried.
Sally measured him and took her time doing so. Had she misunderstood and thought he was trying to clear a path?
“There is a boy that interests me,” she replied, apparently coming to a decision. “He’s handsome and charming, and hardly knows I exist.”
Gideon came to a decision of his own. “I surely ain’t a-tryin’ to be bold, miss, but he must be plumb blind. Sometimes a fellah don’t take no notice ‘til ‘nother one does. If’n you’re of a mind, we might see what we can do.”
With the most charming of smiles, Sally agreed
. Courteous, and ever so slightly servile, Gideon fetched her a glass of punch. They ate cookies under the pale lamplight and deliberately calculated every move to seem friendly— but it was exactly that and no more.
Another boy danced with Sally, then Gideon reclaimed her. A second boy asked for the next dance and afterwards Gideon partnered with Sally again. As they navigated the dance floor he felt a light tap on his shoulder.
“May I cut in?” a neat young man requested.
Gideon looked to Sally, who curtsied and said, “Good evening, Billy.”
Gideon stepped aside. Off the dance floor he undid his necktie and took a deep breath simply because he could. He managed to stay tucked amongst the shadows until Aspen materialized beside him.
“Time to be going. Isn’t that your new girlfriend dancing with Billy Nevans? I hear she’s been after him for a while.”
Gideon tipped his head and squinted, examining Aspen from several angles.
“You lose something?” Aspen asked.
“Nope. I’m a-lookin’ for your petticoats.”
“My dance partner informed me,” Aspen countered with mock indignity, he certainly had no great gift for gossip. “Well done, by the way.”
“Ya mean her?”
“That. . . and not making me drown you again.”
Gideon meant to say Aspen had been lucky, but what came out was, “Why’d y’all b’lieve I’d stay put?”
“Why did you?” Aspen countered.