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 This story is not to be published on any ftp site, newsgroup, mailing list, fanzine or elsewhere without the express permission of the author.
"Maria" and all original material included in this story are the creations of Darcie Daniels.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Happy Thanksgiving, LD fans! I finally got over the dreaded "writer's
block" and was able to produce for you a holiday ep. Next task....
Christmas!
Here's some history about America's Thanksgiving copied out of Compton's Interactive Encyclopedia 97:
Sarah Josepha Hale believed that Thanksgiving should be a national patriotic holiday. She was the editor of a popular woman's magazine called Godey's Lady's Book. She began her campaign in 1846. Year after year she wrote editorials and sent letters to the president, to state governors, and to other influential persons.
For the date she chose the last Thursday in November because on the last Thursday of that month in 1789 (November 26) George Washington had proclaimed a National Thanksgiving Day in honor of the new United States Constitution.
Finally Sarah Hale won the support of President Abraham Lincoln. On Oct. 3, 1863, during the Civil War, Lincoln proclaimed a national day of Thanksgiving to be celebrated on Thursday, November 26. He also named the last Thursday in November as the day to be observed every year. Lincoln and every president who followed him proclaimed the holiday each year. The date chosen, with few exceptions, was the last Thursday in November. President Franklin D. Roosevelt thought Thanksgiving fell too close to Christmas. In 1939 he proclaimed the third Thursday Thanksgiving Day. Not all states complied, however. In December 1941 a joint resolution of Congress specified the fourth Thursday in November (which is not always the last Thursday) as Thanksgiving Day.
Excerpted from Compton's Interactive Encyclopedia Copyright (c) 1994, 1995, 1996 SoftKey Multimedia Inc. All Rights Reserved
I don't know what day Thanksgiving was proclaimed in 1880, but for the sake of literary license (what a nice thing to possess!), my Thanksgiving takes place on the last Thursday of November that year.
Also, I'm told from my Southern friends (you know who you are), that like Memorial Day, Thanksgiving was not celebrated in the South directly after the War. Apparently, it was not until WWI that Thanksgiving (or Memorial Day) was celebrated on a widescale in the South.
For those of you who haven't read my other cybereps, here's a brief synopses of my other episodes:
Ep. 1: Maria Bennett, niece of Josiah Peale, comes to CW and immediately finds that her family has many problems.
Ep. 2: Two preacher come to CW and upset the town.
Ep. 3: Maria and Mosby's stagecoach gets robbed.
Ep. 4: Maria strikes it rich, and suddenly the CW men start to court her. She also decides to matchmake for Mosby, which yields unexpected results.
Here we go onto my next episode. Warning -- there is a bit of violence (not as much as ep 3), but blood is shed. Can't have Thanksgiving without some violence, can we, football fans??
Setting: Early November.
Curtis Wells, Montana Territory, 1880.
"One day you are going to say 'yes,' to me, I'm just positive, Mr. Mosby," Maria told him, leaning toward him. She placed her tea down delicately.
It became something like a ritual between them. Almost every morning since her muddled attempts to match-make for him had Maria and Mr. Mosby met at the Lonesome Dove Hotel. He drank coffee. She drank tea. He had sugar in his coffee. She had the same in her cup. It worked out splendidly, in Maria's opinion. Mr. Mosby could always be counted upon to give her a delightful conversation. He had to be the most intelligent man in Curtis Wells.
Mr. Mosby's golden eyes twinkled mischievously. "Now, I suppose that would depend upon your proposal, Miss Bennett," he answered, his Southern drawl dropping to a husky pitch. His eyes roamed appreciatively over her form. "There are certain things a man would never deny himself should an attractive woman make the offer."
He was up to no good, Maria knew. His grin was also entirely too wicked for his comments to be completely innocent. And that part about her being attractive had to be a scandalous plan to affect her sensibilities. When Maria thought about what he said, she gasped. Then her face turned a bright red. She was aware of what men and women did in private, and Maria was shocked that Mr. Mosby would keep alluding to it. It always made her blush. Mr. Mosby loved to see her blush for some entirely strange reason. Her complexion seemed to be entirely under his control.
"Mr. Mosby!" Maria reprimanded him, giving him her most pained look as possible. "Really!"
He chuckled outright. "Miss Bennett, how you do amuse me. But my answer is still `no.' You're going to have to face that fact."
This was something that they would always argue about. Every day for months Maria tried to get Mr. Mosby to apologize to her cousin Austin. He had Austin unfairly removed from his position as sheriff. Maria did not know the exact reason why, but it was about some strange quest for justice on Mr. Mosby's part. Maria did not think it mattered. She knew that Austin had never forgiven Mr. Mosby for it, and her cousin spiraled down a drunken and slovenly path ever since. His father Josiah had begun to dwell more and more in his own world, seeking an end to the torment over his daughter Hannah's death. Austin, concerned over his father's behavior, cleaned himself up and began taking care of his father again. Austin and Josiah stayed at the newspaper office. He would deny Maria the right to see her uncle, and more than once, Maria and Austin argued over the well-being of Josiah. Both her uncle and cousin needed help. She had to help Josiah by keeping him from destroying himself in his own misery. And she had to help Austin by getting Mr. Mosby to apologize. Mr. Mosby was not about to do that, either.
Maria sighed, stirring her tea. She was not going to accept that, by any means. Mr. Mosby would apologize to Austin. She would see to it. Even now she had plans to speed up the process. She smiled.
"As soon as Mr. Call returns from his trip, I'm going to have him shoot me a turkey. I'm sure that Austin will let me roast it at the newspaper office. Certainly there can be no objections to that. Austin, Josiah, or Mr. Call haven't eaten a turkey in a long time, I dare say. The last time a turkey touched that oven had to be when Hannah was alive." Maria never knew her cousin Hannah. She died two years ago in an explosion. Hannah's death left a terrible hole in her family.
Mr. Mosby's face darkened, almost looking as if he were in pain. "Mrs. Call was a good woman," was all he could finally comment.
Hannah must have been Mr. Mosby's friend, Maria thought. Her loss hurt him, too. Mr. Mosby did not seem to have that many friends. He had associates, but not friends. Maria hoped that he considered herself as his friend, too. "Hannah was beautiful, wasn't she?" Maria whispered in question, already knowing the answer. Many times did Maria see Josiah clutch his deceased daughter's portrait. Hannah looked like an angel.
"She was," he said, his voice lowering, pain clouding his face. "She was."
Maria sighed. This conversation was not going as she hoped. This was too depressing.
She cleared her throat, continuing as brightly as she could, "I'm going to stuff it with cornbread, carrots, and celery. The turkey should be delicious."
"That's nice," Mr. Mosby said, his face narrowing in suspicion. She looked like she had an ulterior motive on her face. "And on what day do you plan to have this marvelous culinary event?"
Maria bit her lip. She was trying to invite him to Thanksgiving dinner, and Maria knew Mr. Mosby would object to it. Her whole entire family seemed opposed to him. Austin had not forgiven him, Mr. Call hated him for some strange reason, and Josiah did not particularly care for Mr. Mosby, either. Mr. Mosby would not want to subject himself to that hostile atmosphere, she knew. Maria just thought if she could get them all together there could be some sort of understanding. Thanksgiving, after all, was about forgiveness. She had to entice Mr. Mosby somehow to come. She had to do her best to convince him.
"And you don't know this," Maria said very quickly, eluding his last question, "but I make the best doughnuts in the territory. Did you know Maine put the hole in the doughnut, Mr. Mosby?"
He looked strangely at her. "No, Miss Bennett, I didn't. And why do I get the feeling you're trying to sucker me here?"
Maria looked down in her tea. Perhaps she had not been caught yet. She decided that she had better play innocent. "Would I do such a thing?" she asked sheepishly.
Mr. Mosby laughed at her. "In a minute."
Maria smiled, despite herself. "Mr. Mosby, please, I'd really like you to come to Thanksgiving dinner. Just think of it - a delicious roasting turkey, cornbread stuffing, Aunt Elinor's potato salad - why, and I'm going to make those doughnuts especially for you. It's a special recipe. You have to sing to them, or they won't even raise. You see, I'm going out of my way so that you'll come." If thoughts of food would not entice him, perhaps her the last comment would guilt him into coming, Maria thought.
"No, Miss Bennett," Mr. Mosby smiled strangely. "As tempting as your offer sounds, I don't celebrate Thanksgiving."
Maria could not understand why. Then she knew. Mr. Mosby once told her that God's grace seemed to keep eluding him. She always thought that was silly. Mr. Mosby was one of the luckiest men she knew.
"Mr. Mosby," she said quietly. "Aunt Elinor taught me that Thanksgiving was a time for family and friends. It was a time to thank whatever grace that was still left on the earth for what you had. I just wanted to show you and my family how much you mean to me. It is so important to have someone you can call dear."
He seemed stunned by her statement. He looked as if he did not know what to say. "Maria, I thank you. I really do. But you don't understand - "
"Listen," Maria interrupted him, trying to persuade him. "I know what torture it is going to be for you if you come. There is a hardness between Josiah, Austin, and Mr. Call that anyone can see. I just hope I can get them in the same room together without an all out war. Couple that with how they feel for you...." Maria decided she had better not mention that. Mr. Mosby was probably more aware of how they felt for him than she was. "But I want you there," she continued. "They are my family, but you are my friend. You belong there. I would like us all to get along with each other with a better ease than now."
Mr. Mosby sighed, stirring his coffee. "No, Maria, it's just not possible."
Maria stomped her foot beneath the table. It seemed that everyone she cared about was dead-set upon hating one another.
Very well, she thought. If she had to lower herself to him, she would do it. "I beg you, Mr. Mosby. Please come. I need you there."
"Maria, listen to me," Mr. Mosby said somewhat impatiently, ignoring her. "It wouldn't matter if your family welcomed me with open arms. I wouldn't come. Thanksgiving is something I just don't celebrate. Now shall we discuss something else?"
"But why don't you celebrate it?" Maria persisted. If Mr. Mosby did not celebrate Thanksgiving because he felt cheated by God, than Maria would have to teach him otherwise. Aunt Elinor always told her that sometimes God is hard to see if you are not looking for Him.
"There is absolutely no way I'd celebrate Thanksgiving. Now let this go." His butternut eyes narrowed in warning.
Her dark blue eyes answered to the challenge. "If this has something to do with God - "
"Now why would you think the Almighty has anything to do with this?" he laughed in derision. "No, I suppose you are right. He is a part of the reason, too."
Now Maria was confused. Mr. Mosby was not making any sense.
"For God's sake, Maria," Mr. Mosby explained patiently, seeing her bewildered frown. "Thanksgiving is a Yankee holiday. You don't actually expect me to celebrate it, do you?"
Maria was stunned that he would say such a thing. She felt like she had been slapped. She was his friend, or at least, she thought she was. She was born in New York. She had lived in Maine. She had come to the West as a Yankee, in the truest sense of the word. Mr. Mosby apparently did not like Maria for who she was. He had absolutely no regard for her. Her sin was the wrong geography.
She remained silent. There was nothing she could say. She stared down in her cup.
Her tea was cold. Perhaps it was a sign. Perhaps they should not be sharing their morning cups together.
She placed her cup on the table and stood up. "Very well, Mr. Mosby. If that's the way you feel about it. I'm sorry you had to endure my `Yankee' presence for this long. It won't happen again."
He grabbed her arm and pulled her back down into her seat before she had her chance to make a dignified exit. "Maria, stop this nonsense," he said quietly, aware that they were attracting a scene in the hotel. "This has nothing to do with you personally. Now stop behaving like a child."
Now that statement made her mad. Maria felt that she held her fury quite nicely. She even composed herself enough not to raise her voice. Aunt Elinor would have been proud. "Fine," Maria said gruffly, shrugging off his arm. Her dark blue eyes glistened like cold steel. Her voice was sharp and was intending to wound. "What is it you wish to discuss? Shall we talk about the Yankee character that you find so offensive? Or maybe we should discuss a safer topic - the Southern character?"
Mr. Mosby's eyes narrowed in warning at her, but Maria continued undauntedly. "I was always told your people were too proud for your own good. But I don't find that the case. I think you are remarkably humble. Indeed, it is humility itself to openly acknowledge that only a Yankee could celebrate such a holiday such as Thanksgiving. You must be saying that the Yankee is more likely to forgive than the Southerner. Such humility and generosity in your character I find extraordinary. I was unaware that you could be capable of such a thing."
Her sarcasm pricked him. Maria saw the spark of fury explode in Mr. Mosby's butternut eyes, but she did not flinch. She was ready for battle. It irked her that he was too proud to like her for who she was. And she would let him know it.
"Humility, Miss Bennett?" he snarled, the shadows falling on his face like smudges of gun powder. "You don't know the meaning of the word." His voice was hard and painful. "Humility is choking out an oath of fidelity to get back to a home that has already been destroyed. Humility is seeing the graves of the family you once prayed and dreamed were alive. Humility is having to stand there while those Yankee carpetbaggers picked us clean like a bunch of vultures. Humility is knowing that you'll never be able to have the life you once knew. That is humility, Miss Bennett. Don't give me your Lincolnesque speeches about Thanksgiving. A Yankee-dictated holiday telling me when I should forgive and what to be thankful for would be the last thing I could stomach."
That smarted. He was right, of course. But Maria was right, too, in her opinion. He was proud, and it hindered him. But his pride also gave him his strength. She supposed she would have to accept him for who he was.
They did not say anything to each other for a long moment.
"I didn't mean to hurt you by inviting you to Thanksgiving, Mr. Mosby. That wasn't my intention."
"And it wasn't my intention to hurt you by declining, Miss Bennett."
She nodded at him. They both understood.
They sat in silence. They apparently did not have anything left to say to each other.
Maria bit her lip. "Well," she said brightly as possible. "Whenever Aunt Elinor and I had an argument, we would finish it by throwing our tea cups into the fireplace. It always made us feel better." Maria frowned. "I don't suppose Miss Carpenter would like us doing that."
"No," Mr. Mosby acknowledged, a smile tugging almost hesitantly at his lips. "I don't suppose she would."
Maria did not know why she felt compelled to tell Mr. Mosby what she said next. Maybe because he was in the War. He would understand the pain. "My cousins were in the War. Did you know that? They died at Gettysburg. Aunt Elinor was always very sad around Thanksgiving and Christmas. She told me that having me around helped lessen grief over her sons. I'm glad."
"I'm glad for her, too," Mr. Mosby said quietly. His face was twisted in deep pain. He had to be thinking about his own family. He had once said he lost them in the War, but he never elaborated. It must have been too horrible to think about.
"I also had brothers who died in the War, too," Maria continued. Somehow she felt it would soothe them both to speak of it. "Of course, I never knew about that until Aunt Elinor told me. I was too young to remember them when they went off to fight. My eldest brother was named Peter. He was hanged for spying on the Confederates. My other elder brothers, Jason and Adam, died of dysentery and disease. We could never find out what happened to their remains, though. It's so sad. All I have left of them is a faded photograph. Their only living memory died with my Aunt Elinor. Josiah has locked their memory out of his mind, and Austin, too, cannot remember them. My brothers seem so unreal to me. It seems that memories are like that. They are unreal, or they are locked away, or they just seem to fade away with time."
"That, or the memories are still very much alive," Mr. Mosby commented. For the briefest of moments, he seemed to wince.
Of course, Maria thought. He would know all too well. He suffered in a prison camp during the last year of the War, and he lost his entire family when he returned home. He probably did not like thinking about it, much like Maria never liked to think about her years in the orphanage or her own family's death. It was better not to dwell on horrid things.
"Well, Mr. Mosby," she smiled at him. "What do you say to this? I'll make you a plate of leftovers, and you can eat it the day after or whenever. Then it won't be Thanksgiving, correct? And since I think so very highly of you, I'm still going to make you those doughnuts I mentioned. Turkey and doughnuts - how can you possibly refuse an offer like that?"
Mr. Mosby smiled warmly at her. "That combination would be tempting for any palate, Miss Bennett, but I'm afraid I'll still have to refuse, unless you can agree to one specific condition."
Now Maria was curious, but she was almost afraid to ask him. His eyes had a wicked glint to them. He really was too beautiful for his own good.
"What, Mr. Mosby?" Maria asked hesitantly.
"Why, I can only accept if you agree to eat it with me, of course."
Maria beamed at him. That was unexpected, but very pleasing. "Of course, I can do that!" she exclaimed. "You are silly to think you even need to ask."
Mr. Mosby laughed, his pitch dropping to a husky timbre. "I don't think anyone has ever dared call me 'silly,' Miss Bennett. What makes you think you can get away with it?"
Maria stood up, thinking it was best to leave after what she intended to say next. Aunt Elinor always said it was inappropriate to wink, but Maria winked at him anyway. "Because I can. Good day to you, Mr. Mosby."
He chuckled, the look on his face most strange. He bowed his head to her in parting. "Good day to you, as well, Miss Bennett."
Maria smiled at him before she left. Mr. Mosby really was too beautiful for his own good, Maria thought. She liked him immensely.
Afternoon, next week.
Maria sighed in relief when she saw Mr. Call ride back into Curtis Wells. It was about time he got back, and it seemed like ages since he left. Curtis Wells just had its big snowfall of the season, and Maria was afraid Mr. Call would freeze out in the elements. Bounty hunting left him exposed to all sorts of dangers, Maria thought. It was far too dangerous. He really ought to be doing something else for a living. She sighed resignedly. She had better help him change professions, too, in addition to helping him out of his self-imposed shell. Mr. Call wrapped himself in a blanket of guilt ever his wife's death, much like Maria had when her own family was killed in a fire. Her aunt Elinor saved her from her isolation, and now it was Maria's turn to help Mr. Call. Her cousin-in-law would not be abandoned, not if Maria could help it.
But he was such a stubborn stinker, Maria thought. The man had a head harder than granite.
That did not matter, she told herself. Mr. Call was one of her most favorite people in Curtis Wells. He was a lot of fun. And he was a good friend.
She smiled as she carefully descended the icy steps of the Lonesome Dove Hotel. Mr. Call trudged slowly in the snow, counting his bounty money he had just collected from the jailhouse.
"Newton!" she called out to him when he was within hearing distance.
Mr. Call stopped momentarily, recognizing her, and grimaced slightly. He hated it when she called him that.
Maria had to stop herself from laughing. Mr. Call was hilarious when he was irritated. Instead, she focused on the bounty money in his hand. "I see that you have returned victorious in your quest, Newton. Well done, I must say, very well done. I am glad you are back, though. I missed sitting on your bench with you."
"You missed irritating me is what you missed," Mr. Call commented dryly.
Maria laughed. Of course, that was true, but she was not going to admit it to him. "You are so silly, Newton. I like sitting on your bench with you," Maria admitted freely. "You always have so much to say."
Mr. Call looked at her oddly, and then looked away in annoyance.
Maria laughed at him. Actually she meant her last statement, too. What Mr. Call did not say verbally, he said with his eyes and his movements. She really did like Mr. Call.
"Listen," Maria told him. "I have this idea, and I think you're the only one who can help me."
"No," Mr. Call said emphatically. He looked as if he knew better than to listen to her schemes.
"Newton!" she reprimanded him. "You haven't even heard what I have to say."
"Good, because I don't want to."
"Oh, for heaven's sake. I just want you to do a favor for me."
"Whatever it is - no."
Maria stomped her foot in frustration. Mr. Call was the most stubborn stinker when he wanted to be.
That did not matter. Her head was harder than his, she imagined. "This really means so much to me. Please just listen to what I have to say. This is not your ordinary favor. This involves Austin, Josiah, you, and me. Just listen is all I ask."
Mr. Call sighed resignedly. He did care very deeply for his family, Maria knew. He was estranged from them, partly due to Austin and Josiah's behavior towards him, and partly due to Mr. Call's own elusive actions. Her family's situation was very heartbreaking. Maria had to do something about it.
"What?" he finally questioned after a long moment. "What do you want?"
Maria had to be careful here. She was unsure of how Mr. Call would respond, and this meant so much to her. "It's been so long since I've celebrated Thanksgiving," she said very quietly. "It's been almost four years. Aunt Elinor," she paused, the conversation becoming suddenly difficult for her. "Well, Aunt Elinor always made things so bright, you see. I just want that again. I want to be with the people I love - you and Josiah and Austin - on Thanksgiving. I want it to be bright again, that's all."
Maria heard an almost bitter laugh from him. Mr. Call's light blue eyes froze in deep pain, almost as if he were longing for something beyond his reach. "It's just a dream, and then you wake up," he whispered.
Maria did not understand him for a moment. Then she knew. Hannah. He had to be speaking of her cousin Hannah.
She did not know what to say. Mr. Call just shrugged and trudged away. "Was she very beautiful, Newton?" she asked as she tried to follow behind him, her skirts becoming wet and heavy with snow.
He did not answer her, and Maria could not read his reaction when his back was turned toward her. He did not slow for her, either, but kept his steady pace.
"Newton - " she called out to him, her breath beginning to labor. "For heaven's sake. All I want you to do is shoot me a turkey. We don't even need to say anything over dinner - only grace - and then the four of us can sit and stare at each other like a bunch of idiots. That can't be that much to ask."
"Leave it be," he said, his back turned to her, continuing to walk ahead of her.
"Newton!" she reprimanded him to stop, finally stopping to catch her breath.
He did not answer, but continued on his way.
He was a stubborn stinker.
But so am I, Maria thought. "Lord, give me strength," she prayed. Maria knew that God made her Aunt Elinor an angel. It gave her comfort that Aunt Elinor was watching her now. Perhaps her cousin Hannah was looking after Mr. Call. Maybe Hannah was looking after them all. That made Maria feel infinitely better. Hannah would see to it that she got a turkey and a Thanksgiving.
Afternoon, next week.
Maria was about to visit her cousin Austin when she accidentally bumped into Mr. Mosby as she turned the corner.
"Pardon me, Miss Bennett," Mr. Mosby excused himself. He had a boyish glint in his eyes. He was excited about something. "I hope I did not disturb you."
"Why, no, Mr. Mosby," Maria said, almost laughing at his expression. "Don't worry about me. I can only hope to say that I should not have to worry about you."
He grinned at her. "There's no need to concern yourself about anything any longer, Miss Bennett." He held her hand and brought it to his lips. "Everything is just perfect."
When he kissed her hand, Maria positively blushed. Mr. Mosby was such a charmer when he wanted to be. Aunt Elinor would have adored him.
"This is good news, indeed," Maria laughed. "And, what, may I ask, put you into such a fine mood today?"
Mr. Mosby took her hand in the crook of his arm as they walked along. "Miss Bennett, I have secured a deal that will most surely bring the railroad to Curtis Wells. Even as we speak, a Mr. Hillman from the Utah and Northern railroad office is traveling north to scout the town. He won't refuse my offer, I guarantee you. Construction on the railroad should begin in the spring."
"That is exciting!" Maria exclaimed. "I always loved riding the railways back East. It always felt like we were flying when we hit a straight stretch of track! But here, I'm sure it would be different. Can you imagine the view from the car? The track would follow the course of the mountains, and you can see the creeks and streams from the windows. Oh, how lovely! That would be so much fun! Don't you think so, Mr. Mosby?"
He laughed at her. "Yes, Miss Bennett. Riding on the railroad is exhilarating, I must admit, but I was thinking more of the business it would attract to Curtis Wells. It's a pity that you have never seen Atlanta at its finest. The architecture, the culture, the fountains, and even the walkways - I am sure you would have enjoyed it. That is what this town needs. I have a vision. Curtis Wells will become the new Atlanta. I will see it in my lifetime."
Maria frowned. Art and culture are fine things to have, but Curtis Wells had its own charms, albeit it, muddy ones. She hoped Mr. Mosby could recognize that.
"I wouldn't tear down Curtis Wells so fast, Mr. Mosby. Somehow these buildings belong with the geography of the mountains and with the course of the river. A city of gold would not fit here. The territory is too beautiful and too rugged for something so artificial."
Mr. Mosby's eyes narrowed at her. "Miss Bennett, I thought you'd be the last one to stand in the way of progress. Every day I see you with a new book or hear you humming Verdi. I would think you, of all people, would embrace a more civilized life."
"Oh, I have nothing against civilization. It is just not in my opinion that the business generated by the railroad will bring civility among us. Nor will the buildings or anything else we can construct. It is the passengers, rather, that will elevate Curtis Wells to a new level. You see, the more women you bring here, the more civilized this place will get. Women are very important to the West. We won't put up with this lawlessness. We want churches. We want schools. We want libraries. And then, after, that, we want museums and opera houses. The very gentility of our nature forces you men to comply with us. And if that doesn't work, we just have to knock some sense into you. If I were you, I wouldn't forget the importance of our gender. The railroad is a means to an end to bring more women out here."
"Ah," Mr. Mosby laughed in understanding. "Thank God I have you to set me straight about these things. God forbid I should forget the feminine element around here." His eyes drifted around the rough-hewn town. It was definitely lacking in refinement.
He was gently mocking her, and Maria felt like sticking her tongue out at him. She did not, for Aunt Elinor would never have approved. "You'll laugh when we demand the right to vote around here. Then you'll really have something to worry about. I bet the Wyoming men are shivering in their boots right now."
"They ought to be. A bunch of women gathering together to express opinions is a dangerous thing, Miss Bennett," Mr. Mosby smiled at her. "A smart man would never allow it."
Just then a bunch of rowdy, drunken men laughed hysterically as one of them stuffed a snowball down Mrs. Tarbell's blouse. The older woman was irate as the men guffawed.
Maria smiled back at Mr. Mosby. "Then we should have the vote around here in no time, judging by the stupid way you men act when you assemble."
Mr. Mosby chuckled. "Point taken, Miss Bennett," he smiled. "But I'm afraid that as the leader of this town, I still would never allow it."
Mr. Mosby really did have a lovely smile, in Maria's opinion. She wished she could be as pretty as he was.
"So," Maria sighed, depressed because she would never have the fortune of true beauty. "You must understand that women are a force to be reckoned with, or you never say such a thing."
"I will always concede that point to you, Miss Bennett. I have never thought otherwise."
"Good," Maria grinned. "I've always thought you were a smart man. And I would start to worry, if I were you. We women will get the vote, eventually. We are more patient than you."
He laughed at her. "Oh, yes, the patience of a woman. Which reminds me, how are things going with your family?"
Maria stomped her foot in frustration. Mr. Call still refused to shoot her a turkey. Austin refused to let her cook Thanksgiving dinner at the newspaper office, and Maria never could get the chance to talk to her uncle Josiah. It was not going well at all.
"Things are going just fine," Maria lied. "Everything is falling into place. It is going to work, by heavens, I'm sure of it."
"Yes," he smiled knowingly, seeing through her act. "I hope for your sake it does."
"It will," Maria said in determination. "Now that you mention it, Mr. Mosby, and since you are in such an excellent mood, I think it would be a good time to go apologize to my cousin Austin."
"No, Miss Bennett. I'm afraid not."
Maria tried her hardest to get Mr. Mosby to apologize to Austin that afternoon, but it did not work. One day she was sure that it was going to happen. He would apologize to her cousin eventually.
Afternoon, following day.
"Austin, for heaven's sake, it is only a turkey. Surely you'll let me roast it at the newspaper office."
Austin would not slow for her as he walked toward the gun shop. "No, I don't want you upsetting Father," he denied her.
"This has nothing to do with Uncle Josiah, and you know it," Maria said irritably as she followed him. Austin deliberately went out of his way to isolate Maria from her uncle Josiah. Now was not the time for Austin's foolishness. Mr. Call still refused to shoot her a turkey, and now Austin was playing games. Thanksgiving was near, and time seemed to be her enemy.
"I'm taking care of Father now," Austin told her, stopping, turning towards her. Although Maria was tall for a woman, there could be no way she could use her height to intimate her cousin. He was one of the tallest men in Curtis Wells. And Austin liked to use his height to his advantage, especially over her. Maria had to give him credit. She would do the same if she were in his position, too.
"You keep your nose out of it," he continued. "Father and I are doing just fine without the likes of you."
"Austin. Please. It is only a turkey. Just let me roast it in the newspaper office is all I ask. Please?"
He seemed to enjoy it when she begged to him. A small smile of satisfaction tugged at his lips. Maria could not see why denying himself, Josiah, and Mr. Call could make him feel so triumphant. Austin was despicable when he was a bully.
"Austin, please."
Maria would not beg him further. Austin simply hated her. She could not change that fact, no matter how hard she begged him. Begging only made him hate her worse, she supposed. She hated herself when she resorted to it in front of her cousin. Besides, there was no need to demean herself further.
She waited for his response.
His voice darkened, almost playfully sly, "Maybe something can be worked out here."
Maria did not like his tone of voice. He was scheming something.
"I wasn't aware we were negotiating," Maria commented, her face narrowing in suspicion.
Austin ignored her, his face brightening like a mischievous little boy. "Word is that you've taken a liking to Mosby," he hinted.
Maria could not deny she liked Mr. Mosby, but she did not see his point. "What does Mr. Mosby - " She stopped, jumping to a horrible conclusion. She hoped Austin was not think she would take part in a plan of revenge against Mr. Mosby. In the past, Maria would hear her drunken cousin make threats towards the town proprietor. Austin was not in a position to be making threats against Mr. Mosby. Mr. Mosby had the power to crush Austin. Maria was most fearful for her cousin's safety, especially when he seemed to perpetuate the danger himself.
"Austin, revenge is very silly. I wish you would just give it up. And don't think I'm going to help you do anything against Mr. Mosby, because I won't."
"You meet him every morning at the Dove, don't you?" Austin ignored her. He looked as if he were implying something.
Maria did meet Mr. Mosby at the hotel. She enjoyed the time she spent with him in the mornings. But Maria felt that Austin was somehow using this against her.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Maria demanded.
"What will the town think, anyway?" Austin continued, laughing bitterly. "He makes Father the mayor, makes me the sheriff, and well, he makes you a ..." His words dropped suggestively. "He likes to take advantage of all the Peales, now doesn't he?"
Maria's fist clenched, and her eyes boiled in fury. How dare he! How dare he suggest such a thing! Not only was he insulting her, but he was insulting Mr. Mosby. Her cousin had no shame. Her cousin needed to be slapped, but she would not hit him. It did not matter how much he provoked her. She would not hit him. He was family.
She would not say anything to him, either. More than likely, she would insult him. She would not lower herself to his level.
"I will speak with you later about this," Maria finally spitted out, her voice razor-like. She turned away from him.
"You invited him to Thanksgiving, didn't you?" Austin called after her, his tone accusatory. He physically forced her to face him.
Maria did not know how he knew that information, but then she remembered - Miss Carpenter. Miss Carpenter was at the hotel when Maria invited Mr. Mosby to Thanksgiving. Miss Carpenter must have told Austin. Maria was aware that Austin had been secretly associating with Miss Carpenter for months, and she became even more aware of it while she stayed at the hotel. Austin would talk privately with the hotel keeper under the stairs, and though Maria did not catch what they said, they did not speak in the hushed voices of lovers, but rather of conspirators. Yet, Maria knew they were lovers. When Austin was in his drunken states, Maria would sometimes see him paw at Miss Carpenter. The hotel keeper seemed to be impatient and somewhat disgusted by his physical advances, yet accustomed to them. Their being lovers really did not bother Maria, for, after all, this was Curtis Wells. Almost every single man she knew visited Twyla's Sporting Club, so Austin attending to his "affections" without formal attachment did not really surprise her. Besides, it was not her business to judge what went on behind locked doors. But what did bother Maria was the control Miss Carpenter seemed to exercise over her cousin. She did not show Austin any real affection - not that Austin appeared to be in love with her anyway - and Miss Carpenter would sooner dismiss him than to talk to him. Miss Carpenter seemed to manipulate her cousin, and Maria did not like it. She did not like it at all.
Even Mr. Mosby looked at her suspiciously. Whenever Mr. Mosby entered the hotel, Miss Carpenter would smile, almost falsely, at him, but Mr. Mosby was immune to her persuasions. When Mr. Mosby left, Miss Carpenter would look at him with bitterness and resentment. If Maria did not know any better, she could swear Mr. Mosby let Miss Carpenter run the Lonesome Dove, if only to keep an eye on her, for he certainly did not seem to trust her. Recently, Mr. Mosby seemed to keep an especially close watch over her. Mr. Mosby had been working for months to get the railroad to come to Curtis Wells. Mr. Mosby would not let anyone, not even the beautiful Miss Carpenter, get in his way.
Maria personally did not regard Miss Carpenter in the highest respect. Miss Carpenter had an almost condescending way of addressing Maria. At first, Maria stared her down, but lately she ignored her attitude, for most of it seemed based of her relation to Austin and of her friendship to Mr. Mosby. Although Maria admired Miss Carpenter as a capable, independent, single woman, she could not trust her. Maria knew she would have to keep an eye on her, especially in regards to her cousin.
"Did Miss Carpenter tell you that?" Maria demanded, successfully wrestling free from Austin's grip. "I don't trust her, Austin. You should stay away from her."
"You did invite Mosby to Thanksgiving, didn't you?" Austin snarled, ignoring her suggestions. "Boy, has he really played you for the fool. You would choose him over your own family. What did Call have to say about Mosby, or haven't you told him yet?"
Austin was beginning to try her patience. "Mr. Mosby is not coming to dinner. There is no need for all this concern," she said coldly.
Austin laughed. "Call doesn't know, does he? Or maybe he does. Your 'Newton' won't go shoot you a turkey, now will he?" he taunted, obviously enjoying himself.
"You leave Mr. Call out of this," Maria warned him emphatically. Mr. Call and Maria repeatedly argued over Mr. Mosby. He would warn her to stay away from him, and Maria could not understand how Mr. Call could be so blind toward Mr. Mosby's finer attributes. Mr. Call could find no good in him. Maria questioned Mr. Call about his hatred toward Mr. Mosby, but he never answered. He kept eluding her questions.
"Call wouldn't like it if he knew how you felt for Mosby, would he?"
Maria knew Mr. Call did not like anything in regards to Mr. Mosby. She wished all this enmity from her family towards her friend would cease.
"Mr. Call knows I am friends with Mr. Mosby, Austin. It is no secret."
"But you are more than friends, aren't you?" Austin smiled slyly. Then his face darkened in accusation and resentment as he grabbed her shoulders. "Aren't you?"
"Let go of me!" Maria demanded in anger. She did not like to be grabbed by anyone. "I am friends with Mr. Mosby. That is all!" She shrugged out of Austin's clutches. "Whether I invite him to Thanksgiving dinner or not is my concern. I am a part of this family, too, and he is my friend. He would be my guest, and you should make him welcome on my behalf."
Austin laughed, almost genuinely amused. "That's funny, 'Cousin' Maria. You would betray your entire family because of a school girl crush. We all hate Mosby, except, of course, for you. He's going to eat you alive, or don't you see that?"
Maria could no longer tolerate her cousin's behavior. He had no need to insult Mr. Mosby any further. "Listen, Austin," she said, her voice bitter and dry. "I don't know why Mr. Mosby removed you from the sheriff's position, but I understand that he was wrong to do it the way he did. He should apologize. Of course, you really ought to be a bigger man than he and just forgive him, regardless of apologies. But since this is you, I would expect more common human decency from a dog."
Her cousin grimaced slightly, but his smirk returned quickly, as if he were used to such treatment. Maria felt instantly sorry. Aunt Elinor definitely would not approve of Maria's behavior. It did not matter what he said. He did not deserve to be spoken to in such a manner. Austin was family.
"Austin ...." Maria began to apologize.
"You listen to me, Maria. I don't want you near Mosby. I don't want to hear you near him. I don't want to see you near him. I don't even want you to walk on the same side of the street as him, do you hear me? If I do, then you can kiss your precious turkey goodbye. You won't have Thanksgiving in the newspaper office, and you won't get near Father again. Is that understood?"
Maria stared at him. Austin meant every word. He would do as he said.
He really hated her. Maria could not believe that Austin hated her to that extent. Mr. Mosby was her best friend. Austin hated her so much that he would deny her the only meaningful friendship she had in Curtis Wells. Austin hated her so much that he demanded that she would do the thing that would hurt her most.
"You would do that to me?" Maria whispered in pain.
"Who will it be? Mosby or us?" Austin demanded coldly.
Maria shut her eyes in agony. She just wanted to belong. She just wanted a family that would love and accept her. She wanted things to be bright again, like they were with Aunt Elinor. She missed her aunt immensely, and she missed that sense of security and warmth and acceptance that only her aunt could give her. Maria had to believe that her family could give that to her again. Maria prayed that her family could give that to her. She needed that to feel whole again.
Yet the thought of discontinuing her friendship with Mr. Mosby made Maria physically ill, almost as if part of her had been amputated.
"You've never welcomed me with open arms before, Austin. How am I supposed to believe you now? Why should I do this?"
"I am your cousin, for one thing," Austin said, a sadness flickering in his eyes for the briefest of moments. Then his eyes turned calculating, as if presenting a card in a poker game. "Besides, I know something you don't. I know why Father treats you the way he does."
Josiah was kind, sometimes even jovial, to the townspeople, but it never seemed that Josiah reacted to his own niece Maria in that same way. He was not harsh to her, but he treated her with a decided indifference, as if she were not even there. Josiah, if he did notice her, was almost resentful of her presence. For months, Maria had not understood it. Maria attributed her uncle's behavior towards her to his madness, but now Austin was suggesting there was a reason behind it.
"Tell me, Austin," Maria demanded. Knowing why Josiah treated her the way he did could be the key to helping him, Maria believed.
"No," her cousin smiled victoriously. "I don't think I can."
"You are going to tell me, Austin, if it is the last thing I do," Maria said with steely determination. Josiah had to be helped out of his madness. Maria had to do everything within in her power to help him. Austin had to tell her.
"Oh, I'll tell you," Austin began suggestively. "You know what you have to do. You just have to...."
To cut off my friendship with Mr. Mosby, Maria thought with sickening dread.
"To tell Mosby to go to hell."
There was only one person Maria felt like telling that to, but he was already in hell, as far as she was concerned. And he wanted her to join him.
Maria moaned in misery. She was damned either way. She had no choice.
Usually Maria waited in anxious excitement upon his arrival, but this morning she dreaded having to meet him. At least Austin was giving her the chance to say goodbye. Maria just wished that Austin would sit somewhere else in the hotel. He was entirely too close for Maria's comfort. She did not want him to hear what she had to say to Mr. Mosby. It was none of his concern. It was enough for Austin to know that Maria would do as he requested. Maria would cut off her friendship with Mr. Mosby to help her uncle Josiah.
She sighed, looking down at the centerpiece of the table. She would not be drinking tea anymore.
Austin really hated her. She could not help but think how much Austin hated her to want to see her hurt this badly.
Maria wished she could be anywhere but here at this particular moment. She felt as if something was circling above her, ready to swoop down upon her. She just wished she could go up to her room in the Dove and never come out. Then she would not have to feel so exposed.
It surprised her more than anything when she saw Mr. Mosby, looking absolutely furious, enter the hotel. He wore black gloves, and the leather duster swirling about his legs made him look almost sinister.
He did not raise his voice, but his tiger-like eyes snarled in fury as he stalked up to the front desk to confront Miss Carpenter.
"What the hell have you done?" Mr. Mosby demanded to her, his fists clutching the edge of the front desk.
Maria felt almost sorry for Miss Carpenter having to endure Mr. Mosby's gaze. Maria had never seen him this angry before.
"Why, Clay," Miss Carpenter said as innocently as she could. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You know very well what I'm talking about, Amanda," he snarled. "I want to know what you said to Hillman, and I want to know now."
Mr. Hillman was the contact man for the railroad, Maria knew. Mr. Mosby had mentioned his name several times to her while they had conversations. Something must have gone wrong with Mr. Hillman. The contact man never even visited Curtis Wells.
"Really, Clay," Miss Carpenter said, looking almost affronted. "I didn't say anything to Hillman. You have to believe me."
Mr. Mosby's face looked as if he mustered as much patience as he could allow. "I received a telegram early this morning from Hillman. It seems that someone has been feeding Hillman some false information about this town, and more particularly about me. Hillman no longer thinks this town is 'appropriate' for the railroad. I know you have a penchant for wires, Amanda," Mr. Mosby said sarcastically. "I wouldn't put it past you to send a telegram to him en route."
For a moment Maria thought Miss Carpenter was going to hit him. "You think everyone is against you, don't you, Clay? Well, this time it wasn't me. I didn't do anything to your pitiful railroad. Now get out," she demanded.
Mr. Mosby smiled humorlessly. "It is my hotel, lest you forget, Amanda. That should be very clear to you. Or it will be very soon, if I find you had anything to do with this."
He looked at her as if he had been playing a card in a poker game. It was a game that she, apparently, did not want to play.
Miss Carpenter only glared hatefully at him.
He smiled in triumph over her.
Maria could not understand why Mr. Mosby let Miss Carpenter run the hotel if they apparently did not trust one another. Mr. Mosby had to be keeping an eye on her. It was the only explanation.
Mr. Mosby turned in Maria's direction, but he was too angry to acknowledge her accordingly.
Mr. Mosby saw Austin there, too, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously as Austin's face twisted in a triumphant smirk. Mr. Mosby calmly paced over to her cousin, almost as if stalking out his prey.
Maria stood up in fear for her cousin.
"Austin," Mr. Mosby smiled, his teeth bared like a tiger. "You don't happen to know anything about this unfortunate incident, do you?"
"Don't know what you're talking about, Mosby," Austin returned, a rather smug look on his face.
"Really," Mr. Mosby commented. He continued, his voice lowering to a growl, "It seems to me that you know more than you're telling." He drew closer to her cousin. Mr. Mosby was not intimidated whatsoever by Austin's height.
His movement was a silent threat, Maria knew. Mr. Mosby was very dangerous to her cousin, even if her cousin did not know it.
Maria stepped between them. She could not allow this to go any further.
"That's enough, Mr. Mosby," Maria glared at him.
"Maria, you stay out of this," Austin angrily told her, resentful of her interference.
Austin was an idiot, Maria thought. He did not even know what she was doing was for his own good.
She ignored him. She stared into Mr. Mosby's tiger-like eyes. "Leave my cousin alone, Mr. Mosby."
Then Austin physically forced her to the side. "I said stay out of this!"
Now that made Maria angry. She never liked it when Austin treated her roughly, and it offended her that he would not respect her actions to help him. She turned back to glare at her cousin, momentarily forgetting that Mr. Mosby was there.
"Austin, stop this," Maria barely spitted out. She wanted to call him names - "idiot" and "fool" came directly to her mind - but she did not want to hurt her cousin in public. "Just once I wish you would let me help you. You have no idea what you are up against. Stop taunting Mr. Mosby."
Austin laughed at her, as if it were ironic. "You don't know Mosby at all, do you? You're the one who doesn't know what you're in for. I could tell you a few things about Mosby that would make you sick."
Maria did not want to hear about it, nor did she think it was time to get into that discussion. Whatever Austin could say about Mr. Mosby should be discussed privately, not in such an open manner. She looked at Mr. Mosby, and his eyes narrowed in warning to her cousin.
Austin's face smirked resentfully.
"Tell you what I'll do for you, Maria," Austin said. "I'll be the one helping you this time. As your cousin, I forbid you to go near Mosby. How's that? It's for your own good."
Maria knew what he wanted, and it filled her with dread. He wanted her to end her friendship with Mr. Mosby then and there. She never until that moment hated her cousin.
Austin only smiled knowingly at her. She felt sick.
Mr. Mosby grunted derisively, viewing Austin entirely in disgust. Obviously, Maria would never choose someone with the likes Austin over him. It was impossible.
"After all," Austin said darkly, "Family means everything to you. Isn't that right, Maria?"
She looked into Austin's dark eyes. She saw deep hatred and bitterness there. Austin knew what he was doing. He wanted to hurt her.
Maria just wanted her family back. She just wanted to feel loved and accepted. What Austin was doing was unfair. She hated him for it.
"You really care about Father, don't you, Maria? You just want to be his niece, now don't you?"
Austin looked directly at her. It was either Mr. Mosby or the knowledge of why her uncle Josiah treated her in the disinterested way that he did.
"Well, don't you?" he repeated.
"Austin, please - " Maria whispered, begging him to stop. He was truly hurting her. The pain was extraordinary.
"What will it be, 'Cousin?'" Austin demanded.
Mr. Mosby impatiently shook his head at the absurdity of the situation. There could be no way she could choose Austin over him.
Maria shut her eyes in agony. She had no choice. She was damned either way.
Austin saw her resigned look and stepped between her and Mr. Mosby. "Well," he smiled triumphantly at the town proprietor. "It looks like Maria will be making Thanksgiving dinner for us. You're not invited."
Mr. Mosby looked stunned. He could not believe that this was actually happening.
"You're not going to have coffee with him, either, Maria," Austin told her. "As your cousin, I forbid it."
Maria, dazed, shook her head. She felt like she had just been bludgeoned.
"I have tea with him," Maria corrected him. "He has the coffee. I have the tea. Don't you know that, Austin? I have tea. You would think that my own cousin would know that I have tea in the mornings. I hardly ever drink coffee. I have tea," she repeated, growing almost hysterical. "You don't know that, do you, Austin? I have tea. Of course, you don't even know that I prefer tea over coffee, now do you? That is so typical of you, Austin. You probably don't even know that I have sugar in my tea. See, Austin, you don't even know anything about me. I really hate you."
Austin winced slightly, then his face twisted in smug satisfaction. He knew that he had won.
Mr. Mosby only looked confused. "Maria - " he said, holding her arm. "What is this? What does Austin have over you?"
Austin only held the power of hell over her head.
She looked at Austin. If she dared tell Mr. Mosby, then Austin would never tell her about her uncle Josiah.
"He's my cousin," was the only excuse she could make. "He's my cousin," she repeated, whispering. "Isn't that enough?" she asked, shrugging off his arm, truly wondering if there was an answer to her question.
Mr. Mosby was silent for an extremely hard moment. His eyes narrowed, looking at her in supreme disappointment.
He must have thought that she betrayed him, Maria knew. He was right. She felt ill.
"I can't believe you'd let your cousin manipulate you like this, Miss Bennett," he said coldly. "Don't you know he's only using you to get to me?"
"You're the only one who's using her, Mosby," Austin said defensively. "Stay away from my cousin."
Mr. Mosby ignored him, regarding Austin little more than he would a dog. His golden eyes looked into Maria's. She dared not face him. She was too ashamed.
He nodded after a long moment, understanding where she stood. He turned away from them, and then turned back, as if an afterthought. "Oh, and Austin, if I find out that you betrayed me again, you will pay for this. Is that clear?"
Austin did not say anything. It was as if he understood all too well what Mr. Mosby was talking about.
Maria felt sick. She was tired of all of this. Nothing good could come out of revenge."Please stop this, Mr. Mosby," she begged him. This revenge game between the two of them would only end up hurting everybody. Maria knew that all too well.
"I won't tolerate betrayal in my own town, Miss Bennett," he answered.
Mr. Mosby surely had to be referring to her, Maria knew. This situation was only getting worse and worse.
"Please, Mr. Mosby," she begged him again. "I'm so sorry that this ever had to happen."
Mr. Mosby did not answer her.
"I'm sorry, too," he told her quietly. "Goodbye, Miss Bennett." He looked contemptuously at her cousin. "Austin."
Mr. Mosby left, and Maria was left alone with Austin. It was no consolation.
"What did you say to Mosby?" Mr. Call asked, looking at a chuck of fallen ice on the snow.
"Nothing," Maria answered, frowning. She was sitting with Mr. Call at his bench.
That was true. She had not said anything to Mr. Mosby nor he to her since that morning at the hotel. It had been truly cold in Curtis Wells for the past several days.
"You're not meeting him anymore at the Dove," Mr. Call commented.
Mr. Call never did like the idea of Maria meeting Mr. Mosby in the mornings. He always told Maria she was being hoodwinked.
"No, I'm not meeting him, Newton," Maria sighed. This truly was depressing.
"Why's that? What'd he do to you?" Mr. Call asked angrily.
"He didn't do anything to me," Maria denied. She was too ashamed to admit that she betrayed Mr. Mosby for Austin. If Mr. Call knew what she did, he would surely despise her, too, even if he was not fond of Mr. Mosby.
"That's hard to believe," Mr. Call grunted in irony, kicking some snow off the walkway. "Mosby always does something."
"Well, he didn't," Maria said, sighing again. It was going to be a long winter.
Mr. Call did not say anything to her for a moment.
"And Austin?" Mr. Call asked.
So, Mr. Call wanted to know about her cousin, did he? Maria did not feel like talking about Austin at all. "Austin can go to crawl under a rock as far as I'm concerned," Maria answered, growing suddenly angry.
"Those are mighty strong words coming from the likes of you," Mr. Call commented wryly. "He must've put a bug up your bonnet to get you so riled."
Maria could feel her fury surfacing just thinking about it. After what she sacrificed and after all the pain it caused her, Austin had the nerve to refuse to tell her why Josiah could not stand her presence. She was very angry. She wanted to beat the life out of Austin. She wanted to see him pay.
"Austin is a miserable fool. I wish sometimes I could just knock him senseless. That would make me feel a lot better."
Mr. Call grunted, staring away from her. He looked as if he understood what she was saying.
That reminded her. "When are you going to go shoot me a turkey?" Maria demanded.
"I'm not shooting you a damned turkey. Now leave it be," Mr. Call denied her.
"Yes, you will," Maria argued with him. She was not in the mood for his nonsense.
His eyes rolled up to the heavens out of annoyance.
She was tired of this. She was tired of having to fight for every damn thing she got out of her family in Curtis Wells. It was about time they did something for her because they cared. Just once she wished that they cared enough to do something for her.
She stood up and stomped her foot. "You are going to shoot me a turkey, Newton Call." She began pacing the walkway like a tiger. "You are going to do it because you like me. Do you hear me? You are going to do it just for me. I don't want to hear any more excuses out of you. Time is wasting. Go get me one. Now."
He still sat on his bench. He looked at her as if she went crazy.
That made her want to cry. She felt so very tired. She did not know if she could fight any longer. She wanted to throw herself on the bench and give up entirely.
"Fine," Maria said, turning away from him. Her life was falling apart. "Don't get me a turkey then."
It was hopeless. Her family just did not care. That really hurt.
Maria really missed her aunt Elinor.
"What the hell's gotten into you?" Mr. Call demanded.
Maria wiped a tear from her eye. "Nothing," Maria lied. "Leave me alone."
"Damn it," Mr. Call cussed. "You were the one who sat down by me, not the other way around."
"It doesn't matter," Maria sighed. "I'll leave you alone then. You don't want me to sit by you any longer."
Now she was losing Mr. Call. It hurt like mad.
"God damn women," Mr. Call muttered. "What the hell is wrong with you, anyways?"
"Never mind. I won't bother you again."
"I'm not getting you a turkey. Tears aren't going to work with me, so you can forget it."
She stomped her foot in fury. "I told you to forget about getting me a turkey, Newton Call! My life is falling apart, and you have the nerve to think I'm making demands on you. Of all the gall! "
Maria could not believe the injustice of it all. If Mr. Call was any kind of cousin-in-law, he would try to help her, not behave as if he was some kind of persecuted object. To hell with him.
She really meant to leave this time.
"Damn women," he said underneath his breath. "All right. I'll make you some biscuits, but that is all I'm going to do. If you think I'm going to sit in the cold just to shoot you a stupid bird, you're crazy."
Mr. Call was the sweetest man on earth, in Maria's opinion. "Oh, Newton," Maria smiled, tears brimming in her eyes out of gratefulness. She did not even know he could cook. "You are so wonderful! How did I ever deserve a wonderful cousin-in-law such as you?"
She sat on his bench and pecked him a kiss on the cheek.
"Women don't make a lick of sense," Mr. Call muttered, wiping her kiss off his cheek, much like a horrified brother would to from his little sister's kiss.
"You've made me feel so much better," Maria told him. "I am so very glad you care." His making biscuits would be the first thing anyone has ever done for her in a long time. Mr. Call could not understand the significance of his offer.
It could almost make up for the loss of Mr. Mosby.
Maria sighed. Nothing would ever make her feel better about that.
She wanted to cry.
But she would not. Now she had the problem of getting a turkey.
"Miss Maria, I'm ain't gonna to shoot my birds," Unbob denied her, looking as if he was about to lose his best friend. "I don't care if it is Thanksgiving and all. I ain't gonna shoot them."
Maria sighed. Thanksgiving was days away, and she still had not found the means to attain a turkey.
She shrugged. She did not think Unbob would be very susceptive to her idea, considering that he probably raised his birds from the hatchling eggs anyway.
Unbob looked at her most anxiously. He did not want her to press the idea.
"It's all right, Mr. Unbob," Maria reassured him. She was not going to have him shoot his pets. It was only a thought. "I'll just have to get a turkey somewhere else."
Now that Mr. Call was going to make her biscuits, Maria no longer insisted upon him shooting her a turkey. She had to settle for what she could get.
"Do you think Mr. Ike will go shoot me a turkey?" Maria asked Unbob. Mr. Ike could be bribed into doing almost anything.
"I suppose so," Unbob shuffled his feet. "But I don't know why you aren't going to eat at the Dove like most folks on Thanksgiving. Miss Amanda will have a turkey and the fixings."
"It's not the same," Maria answered him. Besides, she told herself, after all the trouble she had with Austin and Mr. Mosby, she would be damned if she did not have a turkey for her efforts. It would be entirely unfair.
Just then, she saw Austin walking towards the corral. The horses seemed to be behaving a little nervously today, Maria noticed.
"Excuse me, Mr. Unbob. I have to go speak with my cousin."
She left Unbob and followed her cousin. He was going to tell her why her uncle Josiah treated her the way that he did, even if she had to ask him about it every day for the rest of her life. Maria was more stubborn than Austin was. She was sure of it.
"Austin!" she called out to him.
Her cousin rolled his eyes out of annoyance. He did not slow for her.
That angered her. Austin was a true idiot, Maria thought to herself. But he was going to tell her. So help him, he was going to tell her about Josiah.
"Austin Peale!" she reprimanded him to stop.
He would not slow down, and there could be no way she could catch him with her skirts dragging in the snow.
This calls for desperate measures, Maria told herself. Aunt Elinor would not approve, but Maria did it anyway. She picked up a snowball and hit him in the head. It had the effect she wanted.
He stopped to turn, looking at her incredulously.
It allowed her time to get within talking distance of him.
"You listen to me, Austin," Maria said, catching her breath. "You are going to tell me about Uncle Josiah, and you are going to tell me now."
Austin looked bemused. "Yeah, right," he taunted sarcastically. He obviously had no intentions of telling her.
Then he commented about her snowball. "That was a lucky shot."
Maria was losing her patience with him.
"Tell me about Josiah," Maria insisted.
"Hmff," Austin snorted. "I bet you can't do that again."
She knew she could whip him in a snowball fight, but now was not the time. There was a reason why the boys never let her play baseball in New York. What she lacked in power, she made up with in accuracy.
"Austin," she said impatiently. "Tell me."
"I always won when I had a snowball fights with Hannah. She knew better than to ever fight with me. I bet you're the same."
It was the first time Austin ever mentioned Hannah to Maria. It was most odd.
"Austin, if you think I'm going to have a snowball fight with you, you are crazy. Now is not the time."
"She always claimed that she let me win, but I knew better."
Maria had no idea why Austin was saying these things.
"Hannah and I used to build snowmen when we were children in Boston," he said almost wistfully.
Austin must have missed his sister terribly. Maria understood how lonesome he must have felt. She felt the same for her aunt Elinor.
"Was Hannah very beautiful, Austin?" was the only thing she could mutter.
Austin's face darkened. Whatever wistful mood he was in had ceased. "I'm not going to tell you about Father," he spitted out bitterly. "Now leave me alone."
"Austin," she snapped impatiently. "You are going to tell me."
"What are you going to do, Maria?" he demanded. "Force it out of me?"
She really wanted to. Austin was annoying to the extreme. "Yes, if that is what is necessary."
"How?" he laughed at her. "Just how are you going to do that?"
Maria wanted to take a stick and beat him. "You are going to tell me," she insisted.
"No," Austin smiled in victory. "I don't think so."
"Austin, I am more stubborn than you," Maria warned him. He would tell her. He had no choice.
"No," he denied her again.
She stomped her foot. Her cousin was most annoying.
"Have you got your turkey yet?" Austin sneered, knowing full well that she had not.
That was one thing that came out of that horrible morning with Mr. Mosby. Austin agreed to let her cook Thanksgiving dinner at the newspaper office. It was almost as if he allowed her to do it to spite Mr. Mosby. Maria felt ill.
She did not say a word to her cousin. Thanksgiving was coming in a couple of days, and no one would secure her a bird. All her plans were falling apart.
"Why didn't you ask me to do it?" Austin said.
Maria almost did not hear him correctly. Was he volunteering to get her a turkey?
"What? Didn't you think I could do it?" he asked, laughing in bitter irony.
It never even occurred to Maria to ask her cousin Austin. He never did anything for her, let alone get her something she truly wanted.
"No, it's not that - "
Just then Austin whipped out his revolver and pointed it at her. The loud crack of his gun echoed in the winter air.
Maria's could almost hear her heart thud. She truly thought he was going to kill her. He was playing a dangerous game with her life, and it frightened her beyond reason.
He put his revolver in his holster. Maria then realized that he was pointing the gun at something behind her, not at her. She turned around. Austin shot a coyote that was eyeing the horses. The horses ran around the corral nervously.
Maria cursed herself. She should have noticed the horses' strange behavior in the first place. Austin did not want to kill her after all. He was just trying to protect the horses. She sighed in relief.
Austin's eyes narrowed at her, as if sensing her thoughts. "What did you think I was shooting at?"
Maria did not say anything. He did not need to know her traitorous thoughts.
"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter anyway."
Austin stalked away from her.
Maria was unsure what to think. Her cousin worried her.
Early the next morning, Maria was determined to convince Austin to tell her about her uncle Josiah. Even if it took her all day, Maria was going to hound Austin until he told her. Austin would have no choice - if he wanted any peace, he would tell her. Thanksgiving was tomorrow. Thanksgiving would be the day she could start understanding why Josiah treated her the way that he did. And she could finally thank her cousin for that knowledge.
On her way to the newspaper office, she bumped into Mr. Mosby as he walked out from an alley. He wore his leather duster.
"Miss Bennett," he acknowledged her, looking rather surprised to see her. They had not spoken in days.
Maria could hear a fight in the alley way. She tried to see behind Mr. Mosby, but he would not let her.
"Mr. Mosby, don't you hear it?" Maria asked him. It sounded like someone was getting the life beat out of him. "Someone is getting hurt behind you. We have to stop it."
"No," he said rather darkly, preventing her from going into the alley. "It's none of your concern, Miss Bennett. Now let it go."
He tried to take her elsewhere when Maria caught a glimpse of what was happening behind him. Her heart filled with sickening fear.
She tried to dodge behind Mr. Mosby. She had to get to Austin. Someone had to help her cousin Austin. Mr. Mosby's men were all over him.
Mr. Mosby grabbed her. He prevented her from helping her cousin.
"I said let this go, Maria," he warned her. "You can't help your cousin now."
Rage hit her. She furiously struggled against Mr. Mosby. Unthinking, she struck out at him. She tried to hit him. She tried to kick him. She tried to claw at him. He was between her and her cousin. He was responsible for Austin's blood.
Mr. Mosby, angry, turned her away from him. His powerful grip tore into her forearms.
Maria could now fully view what was happening to her cousin. Mr. Mosby's men - Zeke, Pratt, and another man she could not recognize - held Austin down while they punched him. Maria could practically hear Austin's ribs break. His face was a bloody mess.
Tears of fury streaked down her face. She tried to charge at the men beating her cousin, but Mr. Mosby's grip was like an iron claw. He jerked her back into place.
"I told you that I won't tolerate betrayal in my town, Maria." Mr. Mosby's voice was hard.
Maria knew he had to be speaking of her betrayal. He was beating Austin up because she betrayed Mr. Mosby for her cousin.
"What I did to you the other morning doesn't deserve this!" Maria snapped at him.
Every punch Austin took Maria could feel, almost as if they were tied by some mystic bond. Her cousin was in pain, and Maria could feel it.
"What makes you think I am doing this to you?" Mr. Mosby growled impatiently at her. "Austin was the one who betrayed me again. I have the telegram from the telegraph office right here. Austin sent it. I can't prove that he wrote it, but I know that he did it. His words - the way he puts sentences together - your cousin did it, all right. Austin's lucky he's not getting thrown out of town right now."
"So instead you are trying to kill him," Maria said bitterly, trying furiously to get to her cousin.
Mr. Mosby jerked her back to him again, looking extremely annoyed. "Austin knew what he was getting into, Maria. He has this coming to him. You know that."
Maria did not know anything anymore. Maria could only remember that she, too, wanted Austin to pay for going back on his word to her. She remembered that she, too, wanted to beat the life out of him. She was so wrong. She only wished she could be in Austin's place. She wished she was getting beat instead. She deserved it more than Austin.
Suddenly Mr. Mosby's men backed away from Austin as Mr. Mosby let her go. Mr. Mosby must have given them some kind of signal to stop beating Austin. Mr. Mosby's man Pratt, however, still overzealously kicked at the fallen Austin.
"That's enough," Mr. Mosby barked at him.
Maria, unthinking, charged directly at the man kicking her cousin. She jumped on him, and Pratt, in an effort to defend himself, threw her against the wall. Her glasses flew into the snow as the impact left her breathless.
"God damn it!" Mr. Mosby yelled at Pratt, grabbing him and pinning him against the wall. "I said that was enough!"
He punched his own man in the stomach, and after that, he hit him in the jaw. Pratt, doubled over in pain, crawled away from the alley way. He knew better to stay when Mr. Mosby was in this sort of mood.
Maria searched for her glasses on the ground. She found them lying near a moaning Austin. She put them on and looked at Mr. Mosby. She could see him clearly now.
Mr. Mosby stood there. He looked almost sorry that it came to this.
He walked away.
Maria stood up and stumbled over to her cousin. They both limped back together to the newspaper office.
Josiah was there, but he did not say a word to them. As Maria helped Austin over to his bed, Josiah stared at Hannah's portrait. Hannah's picture only smiled back.
The room felt empty.
Tomorrow was Thanksgiving.
Maria made do. She had no turkey, but she was able to get a chicken.
She sighed. She stuffed the chicken and placed it in the oven.
Maria looked back at her cousin and uncle. Austin was recovering from the beating. He was unusually quiet. Her uncle Josiah nursed a whiskey bottle. He clutched his bible, as if it could give him some support.
Maria wished Mr. Call would appear. Then life would not be so dreary.
She would be mad at him if he did not bake the biscuits that he promised he would make.
There was a knock on the door. It was Mr. Call. He carried a recently shot turkey in his hands.
"Oh, Newton!" Maria exclaimed, grabbing the turkey from him. She would have to pluck it and clean it. Perhaps by midnight she could actually have it cooked.
"Oh, Newton! This is wonderful! Thank you so much!" she hugged him.
He backed away from her. "I didn't do it," he explained. "It was just sitting at the doorstep."
Mr. Call then saw Austin. "What the hell happened to you?" he demanded when he saw his brother-in-law's bruises.
Austin ignored him. Austin stared at Maria, and then looked down, as if he was hurt. It was as if he was expecting a different reaction from her. He did not say a word.
Maria could not understand her cousin. He was so odd at times. At least he spoke civilly to her now. That was the only good thing that came out of this.
"Well, maybe we have a Thanksgiving angel," Maria smiled, explaining the turkey. "Make your biscuits, Newton. We'll have to have something to tide us over until I can get this turkey cooked."
They ate in relative silence, but at least they were together.
It was better than nothing. Some people at alone on Thanksgiving 1880.
END 11/97
Darcie Daniels
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