DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television program "Lonesome Dove: The Outlaw Years" are the creations of Rysher Television, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. This story or the new characters created by the author are not to be published on any ftp site, newsgroup, mailing list, fanzine or elsewhere without the express permission of the author.
"Maria" and "Mrs. Ashby" are the creations of Darcie D. Daniels.
Setting: Curtis Wells, Montana Territory, July 1880.
"It's sad, really, what's happened to your uncle, Miss Bennett," Mrs. Ashby continued. "What Josiah's lacking is a sense of direction. Perhaps," she giggled, "we can find him a new wife. She can direct him all she wants!" Mrs. Ashby cackled.
Maria looked at her as if she were mad. No wonder her uncle Josiah abandoned her earlier that morning to deal with the recently widowed Mrs. Ashby. She was one of the silliest women Maria had ever met.
"I don't think that is what my uncle needs right now," Maria politely replied.
Mrs. Ashby ignored her. "Please give these cookies to Josiah. I know he adores them so." She gestured toward the basket Maria was carrying.
"Yes, Mrs. Ashby," Maria laughed. The older woman had mentioned the cookies earlier three times that morning. "Thank you, again, for your kindness."
Maria might have been more alarmed at Mrs. Ashby's intentions toward her uncle if the older woman had not repeatedly expressed an interest in any single man over the age of fifty.
"Oh, look, Miss Bennett," she pointed at a young woman strolling across the street. "That's Miss Wright. Her poor father, bless him, lost his wife to pneumonia last year. I really mustn't say this, Miss Bennett," Mrs. Ashby murmured, "but the late Mrs. Wright was known to `cohort,' if you catch my meaning. I say that is why she died. Mr. Wright didn't deserve such a wife."
Maria shook her head. Mrs. Ashby was the worst sort of gossip, too. Being judgmental and righteous were annoying and dangerous qualities in a gossip, indeed. Maria knew that Mrs. Ashby probably held her tongue about what she really thought about her uncle because Maria was present, since Mrs. Ashby showed no particular restraint when it came to anyone else. Maria, rolling her eyes, imagined what Mrs. Ashby thought about her. She shrugged as she glanced at her reflection in a window. Maria had always been tall and gawkish, and she looked out of place in her long, light blue pinafore and sturdy white blouse. With her long, light brown hair braided loosely into a bun at her nape, her glasses, the book in her hand, and her matching blue hat, she grinned because she looked so harmless. Perhaps that was why so many people confessed their life stories to her. Gossips seemed to flock to Maria as if she were a shepherd. Laughing at the absurd thought, she imagined if she had a staff right now, she would want to hit Mrs. Ashby on the side of the head.
But the Bennett restraint and her aunt Elinor's good sense of breeding pushed the idea from her head. Then Mrs. Ashby pulled her over to the side, as if to confess a horrifying secret. "There's Amanda Carpenter," she whispered. Maria glanced in the direction of Mrs. Ashby's eyes. "Don't look, Miss Bennett," Mrs. Ashby reprimanded her. "She might see you."
Maria looked anyway. Miss Carpenter was the beautiful, slender woman with the long, cascading hair she met at the hotel a couple of days ago. Maria remembered the woman had been slightly rude to her when Maria asked to know where Josiah lived. Maria became extremely annoyed when the woman did not answer, but looked Maria over as if she were an inconsequential thing. When the amused woman snidely asked why Maria would want to know, Maria gave her "the look." "The look," as Maria called it, was something she learned from her aunt Elinor. The trick was to raise your head slightly, lower your eyelids, and pretend you are looking right through the person's eyeballs to the back of their head, while maintaining a composure of dignity and coldness. It either had two effects - the first being that it left a disconcerted feeling, or the second, it made people recognize their rude behavior. On Miss Carpenter, it made her disgruntled and slightly angry. Maria took it as a positive effect, then resumed a polite and pleasant appearance and questioned her again. Satisfied that the annoyed Miss Carpenter didn't know the answer, Maria found her uncle later that day.
"You know Miss Carpenter used to run the Lonesome Dove Hotel, Miss Bennett." Mrs. Ashby interrupted Maria's thoughts.
Confused, Maria asked, "Doesn't she still?"
"Oh, yes, girl. It's commonly known around here that she did away with the previous owner. Odious man! He ran the hotel with no heat. They say she killed the man in his sleep, you know," Mrs. Ashby lowered her voice to a hush, "after they had 'relations.'"
Apparently, Mrs. Ashby believed the only way for a woman to achieve any independence was through "associations" with a man. She spoke derisively about any woman who tried to live on her own without any help from a man. Earlier that morning, Mrs. Ashby rambled on about a woman she called "Miss Shaw." Maria was only willing to accept the information that Miss Shaw was a gunsmith and a mortician before she left town a month ago. Everything else Mrs. Ashby had to say was unyielding. Maria, at the time, dismissed Mrs. Ashby as being ignorant about "Western" women. Maria admired such a woman for her grit and strength, something that was entirely lost on Mrs. Ashby.
"You see, Miss Carpenter has to pay taxes to Mr. Mosby now that he won't sleep with her. That's why she was the only one in town who didn't pay him taxes before - she was currying favor with Mr. Mosby, if you catch my drift."
Yes, Maria did "catch her drift." It was the stench of jealousy, foolishness, and ignorance. It sooner or later happens with a gossip, though Maria was surprised that with Mrs. Ashby that it happened later -- more is revealed about the gossip than what the gossip intended to reveal about others. In a lot of cases, Maria noted, people who gossip intend no harm. They are just lonely. Yet Mrs. Ashby's type - stubborn, suspicious, and spiteful - only sadly invited loneliness, and Maria's patience with her was quickly wearing out. Surprised, Maria was unsure how she endured Mrs. Ashby this long.
"That's why Mr. Call hates Mr. Mosby so. He slept with his wife before she died, and it was revealed that Mr. Mosby also slept with Miss Shaw, Mr. Call's intended, before she shamefully left Curtis Wells."
Maria shook off Mrs. Ashby's arm and said in a calm voice that barely contained her fury. "You forget, Madam, that you are speaking of my late cousin Hannah in your remarks concerning Mr. Call. It is unseemly, to say the least, to speak ill of the dead, especially considering that the deceased's relatives are present to do them justice."
Taken aback by Maria's change in appearance, Mrs. Ashby stuttered, "Well, I, I -- "
"I suggest you refrain from further comment, Madam," Maria barely spitted out, "until you can find something sensible to say." Maria curtsied. "Thank you, Madam, for the cookies. I am sure my uncle will enjoy them."
Maria calmly walked away, in control of her emotions once again. She shrugged off her anger for Mrs. Ashby in moments, since Maria found the wasting her sentiments on such a inconsequential person was hardly worth her time. She was in positively good spirits when she met with her uncle again.
"Good morning, Uncle Josiah," she greeted him brightly, falling in step with him.
Josiah looked at her in a daze for a moment. "Maria," Josiah finally returned, looking somewhat confused. "Where'd you get off to this morning?"
Maria had hoped Josiah would have recovered by now from this distant state of his. He was like this when Maria first met him. He had even seemed to forget that he invited her to come visit him, much to her amazement, for Josiah expressed a great desire as such when she wrote him a hopeful letter wishing for his acquaintance months ago.
Maria remembered how she learned of her uncle and his family. She had been sorting through some legal documents upon her decision to finally sell her aunt Elinor's house when she came across a letter dated "1875, Montana Territory." Maria did not know that her aunt's acquaintances extended that far; they tended to reside in the area surrounding their Maine home. To Maria's delight and surprise, the letter contained acknowledgment from a Mr. & Mrs. Josiah and Sarah Peale, wishing for their niece, Maria, to come live with them and their children, Austin and Hannah, out in Montana. Maria sadly knew why her aunt kept this from her. Aunt Elinor needed Maria as much as Maria needed her, and though her aunt would never admit it, she was afraid Maria would leave her. And ever since her aunt's death in 1877, Maria thought she had been entirely alone in the world. Though many of her aunt's acquaintances had been friendly and welcoming to her, Maria still felt the loss of never again belonging to a family unit. Now she had four relatives. She could not believe her good luck. The daughter, Hannah, even sounded like she might be Maria's own age. It was Maria's secret hope to find in her a sister.
It was bitterly disappointing to Maria when she arrived in Curtis Wells, Montana, on that July day in 1880. Her uncle Josiah, though looking like a man of some importance in his clean, long coat, had a distant, lost quality in his demeanor. He did not really acknowledge her, even when she showed him both her letters. He stared at the one letter, apparently in his wife's handwriting, as if living a memory from some distant past.
Josiah only muttered, "Dear Sarah, oh my Sarah."
Frightened, Maria interrupted him in alarm, "Uncle Josiah, what is it?"
As if awakened from some trance, Josiah stared down at his niece, really noticing her for the first time.
"You are Maria Bennett," he stated in a dead voice.
"Yes," Maria answered hesitantly.
"You are my sister's child. Poor Lily."
Maria only nodded. It hurt Maria to think of her mother, father, and little brother's deaths.
"Sarah always like Lily. We used to go visit your family in New York when we lived in Boston. When they died, it shocked Sarah terribly, I'm afraid. We should have stayed in Boston."
Maria did not know what to make of this man. Was he trying to console her on her family's loss, or did he not know how to deal with his own grief for them?
Feeling uncomfortable, Maria tried to change the subject. "You mentioned Aunt Sarah," she said as cheerfully as possible. "I really long to meet her."
Josiah's appearance turned bitter. "She's dead! They're all dead! Look around you - death's everywhere. A shooting here, a hanging there, it's a fiery pit of hell! You can't escape it. Go back to Maine, Maria, before it's too late."
"Where'd you get off to this morning?"
Maria sighed. It have been two days since her first encounter with her uncle, and he still had not recovered from the shock. "I was with Mrs. Ashby this morning. You know that, Uncle." Maria answered him. She sadly walked with her uncle, recounting how she finally found out what happened to her family. A "Dr. Cleese" finally told her. Dr. Cleese, who reminded Maria of a son a Jewish tailor she used to know in New York, told her that aunt died four years earlier in 1876. Though he did not know of the particular circumstances behind her death, he was able to tell her what happened to her cousin Hannah two years later. She was horrified and grieved to learn that Hannah was killed in an explosion. Maria could not but help to think of her own family's fiery death when Maria was only five. Hannah left behind a husband - a Mr. Newt Call, her father Josiah, her brother Austin, and her cousin Maria.
"Where's Austin today, Uncle?" Maria asked about her cousin, suddenly very depressed.
"He's probably holed up in Sweetwater, drinking and whoring about. He should be here. That's his problem. He's never where he should be."
Maria shook her head. Her new family was a dreary sort of lot. When she met Mr. Call, she awkwardly tried to express her sorrow for Hannah's death, Mr. Call only shrugged and walked off. Maria, for a moment, could see great pain in his blue eyes as she mentioned her cousin's name. She recognized that Mr. Call wore a nonchalant attitude on his rough and gritty exterior in order to cloak deep feeling and caring. She knew it, because Maria used to do that herself.
As for Austin, Maria knew she was in for a fight. She was shamed by his appearance -- filthy and crude -- and his manners equally so when Maria tried to express her sorrow. Austin suspiciously accused her of wanting to take advantage of his father. Maria calmly assured him it was not the case, but he turned viscous and threatening. She was not afraid of him, but she regretted having to battle with one of her living relatives in order to know what her other relatives were like.
Her family needed help. She knew that as surely as she could feel the bond between them. She would not abandon them. She would have to start with her uncle; she had to ease his pain concerning her aunt Sarah and cousin Hannah. How she could do that, Maria was unsure, but Maria knew there had to be a way. Austin, she sadly noted, could only be helped by his father; he was too reckless for her to understand him. And for Mr. Call, her cousin-in-law, Maria could do for him what her aunt Elinor had done for her -- assure him that she was there for him without scaring him off.
Sighing, Maria tried to shake off these melancholy thoughts and think of something cheerful. Smiling, she remembered what her aunt Elinor always told her. "Maria," she said, displaying an unorthodox wisdom, "you can never see in the dark if all the lights are out." Maria laughed. Maria could never argue with that.
Then Maria saw him. There was a man getting off his horse at the livery stable. She noticed him because he was the most impeccably dressed man she had ever seen in her life, even though it looked like he had been traveling a great distance. His boots were made of fine leather, his trousers of perfect quality, and his fine long coat covered an imperial white shirt and tie and dark patterned vest. When she his face, her jaw dropped. With his dark, bearded, and expressive features, Maria was sure his portrait belonged in those galleries her aunt kept dragging her to. When he tipped his hat to the ladies passing by, she could hardly blame them for stopping in their tracks. His walk was graceful, proud, and powerful, and Maria could tell that he knew it.
"Oh, my."
"What's that, Maria?" Josiah asked.
Startled that she voiced her unconscious thought, Maria covered, "Oh, nothing, Uncle Josiah. Uh, say, who is that man over there?" She gestured to the startling handsome man.
"Oh, him," Josiah said in disgust. "That's Clay Mosby. He runs the town. The demon who controls the river Styx, you might say."
Maria nodded. "Oh, THAT Mr. Mosby." She heard Mrs. Ashby talk about him all morning, and she dismissed most of what the gossip had said, except that Mr. Mosby was the fist behind Curtis Wells. Maria had heard the same comments made about him from most everyone she talked with in Curtis Wells. He had a firm grip, they said, and he would squeeze out life out of you if he deemed it necessary.
What Mr. Mosby had to do with her family, Maria knew little of. Dr. Cleese told her that Mr. Mosby was there when Hannah died. When Mr. Call flew out of town upon her death, Mr. Mosby saw to her cousin's funeral arrangements, helped her uncle become mayor and judge, and eventually cleaned Austin up enough to become deputy of Curtis Wells. Mr. Mosby, apparently, was also responsible for taking the sheriff position from Austin. Maria was unsure what to think about the man. As for Mr. Call, Dr. Cleese added, both men had always despised each other, even before Mr. Call returned to Curtis Wells as a bounty hunter earlier this year. Dr. Cleese would not speculate as to the reason why they hated each other. Maria was glad. The ugliness was their business.
"Ah, there you are, Josiah," said a Southern voice that interrupted Maria's thoughts. "We'll be meeting the jury very soon."
Maria looked up. There was Mr. Mosby. He was even more handsome upon closer inspection. His eyes sparked with intelligence, and his mouth was possessed with confidence. The mark of his cheek made Maria's blood hum.
Noticing her for the first time, his light brown eyes looked over Maria the same, speculative way Miss Carpenter's had just days ago. Maria dared not give him "the look," however, for she instinctively knew that he would know how to give her one in return.
Mr. Mosby smiled politely at her. Maria thought she was immune to giddiness, but now she knew better. She smiled back, trying to contain the foolishness she felt inside.
"I don't believe we've met," Mr. Mosby commented, looking to her uncle for introductions.
"This is my niece, Maria Bennett. Maria, this is Clay Mosby."
"Miss Bennett," he drawled, kissing her hand as she slightly curtsied. "I'm charmed to meet your acquaintance."
"Mr. Mosby," Maria smiled in acknowledgment, keeping her voice very calm. Her aunt would definitely like this one. He was a handsome devil, had exquisite manners, and had a Southern accent. Aunt Elinor had always said anyone with a Southern accent could make the stupidest remarks and still charm the wimple off a nun. Laughing, Maria agreed.
"Is there something wrong, Miss Bennett?" Mr. Mosby asked with an annoyed expression on his face.
Smiling, Maria bit her lip. Clearing her throat, she answered, "No, I was just thinking of something my aunt used to say. Please," she intoned, "don't let me interrupt. Please continue."
Mr. Mosby looked her over for a moment, then dismissed her as he talked to her uncle. That was fine with her, because she got a chance to observe their interaction. Her uncle was mayor, but Maria saw that Mr. Mosby exerted a control over Josiah which her uncle was unaware. Maria instantly eyed Mr. Mosby suspiciously. She continued to watch their conversation, wondering how and when Mr. Mosby would exercise his control over her uncle. He did not show her.
Annoyed that Mr. Mosby would not give her the satisfaction and bored with a conversation she knew nothing of, hunger overwhelmed her as she caught the smell of bacon cooking. She had not eaten all morning, expecting Josiah to take her to breakfast as he promised. Shrugging, she stole one of Josiah's cookies that Mrs. Ashby had baked. As she chewed on one bite of a cookie, her face contorted as her taste buds furiously revolted to the sour taste. The cookie was absolutely repulsive. She suddenly became aware that Josiah was talking to her. Keeping the terrible food beneath her tongue and hiding the remaining cookie behind her back, she could only grin and nod at her uncle foolishly. That action seemed to satisfy her uncle, and he continued conversing with Mr. Mosby. Mr. Mosby, however, apparently amused at her expense, did nothing to hide his smile. Though Maria wished she could do more, her eyes spit daggers at him while she swallowed the remains of the foul cookie. He chuckled.
Disgusted, Maria looked around for some place to dispose the unfinished cookie. Seeing a dog in the street, she snapped her fingers at him. Kneeling down to nuzzle the dog behind the ears, she whispered, "Look, boy, see what I've got for you." The dog sniffed at the cookie in her hand, whimpered, then ran off. "Traitor," she muttered, standing. Hopelessly, she popped the remaining half into her mouth.
"Maria, I've got to go administer some justice," Josiah sighed, apparently believing he was the only one that could do it. "Will you be all right until I meet you this afternoon?"
Maria indicated that she would, intending that she would explore the woods outside Curtis Wells. Mr. Mosby bowed to her before the men left together. "Miss Bennett, it was a pleasure."
I'll bet, her eyes hissed. "Mr. Mosby," she smiled sweetly in reply. She heard him laugh as she walked away.
What an insolent man, Maria thought. She knew she would have to be wary of him.
Maria had good intentions to go explore that morning, but she changed her mind when she stopped by Josiah's newspaper office to drop off Mrs. Ashby's answer to fertilizer. She had briefly glimpsed inside the office before when she met her uncle in the mornings. At the time, the front office was as dirty as one might expect from a single, respectable man, but the back rooms were truly filthy upon further inspection. Papers on the floor, typesetting all over the place, dirty clothes piled in the corners, and dishes left undone were all evidence of her uncle's self-neglect.
There was no better place to start than here. Maria went back to the hotel, checked out, and placed her belongings into Josiah's office. She did not think her uncle would mind, since he seemed to remember his hospitality when he invited her to stay with him at the end of the Maria's first day in Curtis Wells. Maria declined at the time, because she did not want to impose, and furthermore, she wanted to placate Austin from any of his suspicious feelings.
Maria would have to anger one of them some time, so she might as well start with Austin. Putting down her things and taking off her hat, Maria stood with her hands on her hips, wondering where to begin. She began with herself. She changed into one of her old cotton dresses, and wrapped a scarf around her hair. The dress, as usual, was too short for her, even with the hem let all the way down. It was frustrating to be taller than every other woman yet shorter than any man. Sighing, Maria looked around. Something, a shimmer, caught her eye. The picture almost had a mystical quality about it, and Maria picked it up reverently to examine it. The woman in the picture was beautiful. She had dark brown hair and eyes, and wore an expression of pure joy that seemed to make the picture live and breath. "Hannah," she whispered, delicately touching the wedding dress on the photograph as if it were lace fabric beneath her hands. In sorrow, Maria could understand why her family grieved so. It was tragic that a woman with so much life and spirit had to die so young. But Maria could also tell that this woman would never want her family to live in the misery that they had imposed upon themselves.
"I promise you, Hannah," Maria prayed, while touching Hannah's smile on the picture, "I will do my best for your family. I'll try to see to them as you would." She gently put the smiling picture back in its place. Later she would find a nail and hang it on a wall, like her aunt Elinor had done with the portraits of the ones she loved. But now, Maria had business at hand getting the office cleaned up.
The first order of business was to find a washbasin, broom, bucket, and soap. She found a cob-webbed broom in the broom closet, as she suspected, but she was unable to find the other items. They would have to be bought. She would use the money she intended for new material for a dress. It did not bother her in the least. Maria did not like to sew, because she had enough of that when she lived at the orphanage. It was divine intervention that her aunt Elinor found her when she was fifteen. Maria made little mention of the orphanage to Josiah, for it always made her aunt guilt-ridden and sad that she had not rescued Maria sooner. The last thing her uncle needed was new heartache.
After eating breakfast, she found the general store. Finding and paying for exactly what she needed, Maria thanked Mr. Creel, and marched back to the newspaper office, with washbasin, bucket, and soap in hand. She moved the throw-rugs out first. Coughing, she could not believe the dust they accumulated as she shook them out. She would have to wash them. She would probably have to wash everything, she decided.
Maria picked up every piece of paper she could find, promising herself to look through them later, and placed them in a neat pile. She would have to clean out the drawers another day. Then Maria took every piece of clothing, sometimes using the broom handle to lift items that looked like Josiah had been sick in, and dumped them in the washbasin outside. By this time, Maria placed the scarf from her head over her mouth to prevent all the dust inhalation. Sweeping the floor and still coughing, she could hardly see with all the dust in the air. She was ashamed that her uncle would allow himself to live in this pig-sty.
Already noon, Maria began the monumental chore of washing the walls. Swabbing them like the sailors she used to watch from the shore, Maria had not even finished an eighth of a wall before she had a bucketful of dirty water. Humming to herself, she poured the water outside. After four subsequent buckets, Maria was disgusted. She threw the water out into the street without even looking. She barely missed drenching a tall, lanky looking man who stood outside the office.
Horrified, Maria apologized so profusely that she had not realized the man actually wanted to speak to her.
"Oh, that's all right," the older man with the wide, kind eyes and mustache said in wonder-like voice. He spoke with the hesitancy of a child who is not used to speaking. "You didn't actually hit me any."
Maria looked at him. He was covered with the same layer of dirt as everyone else in town, yet he had an innocent demeanor, and somewhat shy one, too, by the way he shuffled his feet. Trying to put him at ease, she smiled and held out her hand. "My name is Maria Bennett. What is yours?"
"Oh, uh, my name is Unbob," he said as he shyly shook her hand.
"Mr. Unbob," Maria smiled as she curtsied the way her aunt taught her. "I am glad to meet you, sir,"
Unbob looked pleased with that, and somewhat surprised, as if no one had ever curtsied to him before in his life.
"No, Miss Maria. My last name is `Finch,'" he said somewhat excitedly. "People call me `Unbob.' My mama and papa named me after my brother." He seemed a little lost, as if not knowing what to say after that.
"May I call you `Mr. Unbob,' sir? My aunt always said that would be the best way to show respect."
Unbob, positively beaming, rocked back and forth. "Yes, Miss Maria. No one's ever called me `Mr. Unbob' before. You're not like most people here."
Maria hoped he was referring to her civility. Unlike herself, however, Maria knew that Unbob did not have to practice working on gentility. Some people were naturally polite. "You are not like most people here, either, Mr. Unbob," Maria genuinely meant.
Unbob smiled at toothy grin. He shuffled, unsure what to say next.
"Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Unbob?" she asked, wondering why this interesting man was at her doorstep.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you. Josiah -- he's your uncle, isn't he?" Unbob stopped. Maria nodded, and he continued. "Josiah told me to tell you that he wouldn't be meeting you later. He had some business he had to take care of."
Maria looked around at the filth inside, knowing that she probably would not be able get it done until nightfall, anyway.
"Did my uncle tell you when he would finish?"
"No, he didn't say anything, Miss Maria."
"Well, Mr. Unbob, I'm hoping he won't be back until late tonight," she smiled, excited. "As you can see," she indicated inside the office, "I've got a lot to clean up here. If I get it finished before he gets back, I might just show it to him as a surprise."
Unbob saw the unfinished wall. He looked down at the ground like a child who did not want to help despite the obvious need for it. Maria laughed. She thanked and dismissed him, then she got back to her work.
Her arms ached and her back was tremendously sore by the time she finished the walls. It was mid-afternoon. Maria was rubbing her back and stretching outside, actually preparing to scrub clothes in the washbasin, when saw her cousin Austin stalking toward her. Inwardly moaning, she braced herself for an attack.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Austin snapped at her.
"Scrubbing clothes, Austin," she replied innocently as she started cleaning one of Josiah's shirts.
"No one asked you to. You leave my father alone. You have no right to touch this place."
"I am just cleaning his shirt. It is nothing for you to get alarmed about," Maria calmly answered, annoyed with him telling her about her "rights."
Austin grabbed the shirt from her hands and balled it up, shaking it at her. "I'll take care of my father," he spitted out at her. "We don't need any help from the likes of you."
He threw the wet shirt in the dirt. Austin was so proud that he did not realize he was hurting his father's property. Maria thought that was pathetic, but she did not say anything. There was a curious crowd forming around them, and even though Maria was ashamed of her cousin, she would not try to publicly humiliate him.
"You're the little orphan girl trying to get in my father's good graces, aren't you, Maria?" he snapped. "You are just trying to rob him blind. Well, I won't let you do it. I'll tell everyone about you, and you'll never get away with it."
"You do that, Austin," Maria agreed, her voice dead. "Time will prove you wrong."
"You won't be here that long. I'll see to it!"
Maria, unshaken by his threats but furious nevertheless, walked up to him and calmly replied in a tone that only Austin could hear. "You understand this, Cousin Austin," her voice edged with cold steel. "If it is a war you want, you won't find it with me. You can push and shove and hurt me all you want. And if I fall, Austin," she added, slowly enunciated every word, "I guarantee you, I will always, always, get back up." Her eyes roamed contemptuously over his filthy and haggard appearance. "Believe me, I have more experience at it than you."
Maria thought Austin might hit her, but he walked away after shoving a wet sponge at her, getting her entire front wet. Unflinching, she stared at him until he was out of sight.
Stomping her foot to release her anger as the crowd wandered away, she heard a man's voice dryly comment, "Fine day to have a soak, Maria."
Startled, Maria turned around. "Mr. Call," she stated. He had apparently witnessed the whole incident. Soak? He must be referring to the front of her dress.
"Yes," she muttered, finally brushing the suds off herself. "Austin seemed to think that was a fine idea." Changing the subject, she asked, "How are you today, Mr. Call?"
He stared off, shrugging in response. After a moment, he said, "You know, you'll never succeed here," referring to Josiah and Austin. His tone was unthreatening, and Maria took it as such.
"Oh, give me a few hours, Mr. Call," Maria replied, choosing to ignore his meaning. "I'll get this newspaper office cleaned up."
Mr. Call looked away from her, his attitude distant. "You know Josiah's crazy."
"Runs in the family," Maria muttered.
"That's damn right."
Maria laughed. Mr. Call walked away. Mr. Call cared in his own way, Maria smiled. Otherwise, he would not have warned her.
Maria finally had the newspaper office in order by nightfall. Floors, dishes, windows, clothes, walls, sheets -- all were finally finished. Josiah had not come back, and Maria was too tired to actually cook for him on the newly cleaned stove anyway. She paid two bits for a public bath to clean the filth that she accumulated during the day, always ready to cover herself up should anyone intrude upon her.
Back in her blue pinafore, Maria was eating her dinner when Josiah, infuriated, entered the hotel restaurant.
"What have you done?" he shouted at her. The whole establishment stopped to hear what the ruckus was about.
Practically everyone Maria had met in Curtis Wells was there. Thank God Austin was not.
"Uncle Josiah, please," Maria said, getting up. "Lower your voice." Maria had no idea he would react this way.
"Like hell, Maria. Answer me! What have you done to my home?"
Maria's patience was wearing thin. "I cleaned it up, Uncle Josiah," she replied, containing her annoyance. "It was filthy."
"You have no right to come into my home and move my things. Where'd you put Hannah? Who in the hell do you think you are?"
She did not answer him. "You need help," she said, her voice barely audible.
"I don't need your help!" he shouted. "I don't need some meddling, busybody underneath my feet. I don't want you here. Go back. You're not wanted!"
That stung, and Maria just barely flinched. It took a moment to contain her hurt. "Perhaps," she acknowledged in agreement. "But we are family," she said, her voice slightly cracking, yet maintaining a shred of dignity. "You seem to have forgotten that fact, but I have not. I will not stand by and watch my family suffer, not when I know I can help. So you can do what you like, Uncle. You can publicly humiliate me, you can hurt me in all imaginable ways. I will not leave," she continued in determination. "I will be there when you need me. That's what families do. It's a bond you can't break, Uncle Josiah, no matter what."
Josiah, though still angry, was not untouched. "But I don't need your help."
"I say you do."
"Go help Austin, then, and leave me alone."
"Austin needs his father. He doesn't need me."
Josiah, in frustration, left. Maria calmly put down her napkin and began to leave the establishment. Before she left, Maria caught Mr. Call and Mr. Mosby's expressions. Mr. Call's look told her, "I told you so," and Mr. Mosby was regarding her, apparently, in a new light. Maria said nothing and coolly left the building out into the hot night.
This was going to be harder than she thought. The stars gave her little comfort as Maria let loose a shaky breath. She would never back down. This was going to take some time.
END
Darcie Daniels
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