“I’m positive it’s late.”
“I’m positive your thinkin’ is early, half-pint.”
“Scott, what time is it?”
“Two minutes from your last inquiry. Johnny, you have my permission to tie Kinsey to the train tracks.”
“What if Winnie missed her connection?”
Scott glowered at his cousin. The sun was hot and a headache was stepping across the threshold of his endurance. “Brother, the rope is in the back of the wagon.”
“I’m being a bloody pain in the arse.”
Scott believed Kinsey’s colorful confession was sincere which closed the door to ushering in the headache. Knowing her slip-ups, there would always be another opportunity to point out her questionable choice of words.
“No, Freckles. You’re just anxious...concerned...uneasy…”
Johnny, grinning, chimed in. “Jumpy...worried…”
The game was afoot.
“Fretful.”
“Troubled.”
“Tense.”
“Twitchy.”
Scott smiled. “Twitchy. I like it.”
“Honestly. I just want everything to be perfect.”
Scott put his arm around his cousin’s shoulder. “It will all be fine.” His eyes shifted to his little brother. Johnny's expression mirrored Scott’s apprehension and drew a line under the guilt he felt. ‘I put off having the conversation with her. Perfect is not a word that will be used often over the next five days.’
The distant sound of a whistle followed by the slight vibration under their feet signaled to the three San Joaquin hosts that the one-fifteen train to Stockton was indeed…
“... on time, darlin’. Looks like ropin’ ya in will need to wait another day. That's a cryin’ shame.”
Kinsey offered a familiar response.
“Half-pint, doesn't it hurt to roll your eyes around in your head like that?”
‘Dear God, Johnny. Not the time to set the table for a tea party.’ Scott watched others gather on the platform to greet loved ones or business associates as the train let out its final breath. Scanning the people disembarking, it was clear to him the town of a diverse population was welcoming more permanent residents today. Scott signaled for Johnny and Kinsey to stay put while he attempted to maneuver through the crowd in search of his friend.
He spotted her as she climbed down the steps of the train car, struggling with her two bags. ‘Why isn’t someone helping her?’ was Scott’s first thought as he attempted a direct line through the herd to reach Winnie. His next observation brought a frown to his brow. ‘She’s aged...considerably.’
“Winnie!”
Seeing her face brighten with a smile of recognition helped relieve some of Scott’s concerns. ‘It’s a long trip. She deserves to look tired.’
“ScottyGarrett! Can you guess what the dear Lord has finally blessed me with this day?”
“No, Winifred, but I’m certain I’m about to find out.”
“Solid ground under my feet.”
Embracing his dear friend, Scott agreed solid ground was a blessing.
Picking up the two travel bags, the expected banter began.
“Winnie, how thoughtful. You packed us several rocks from the old country.”
“Too heavy fer yer scrawny arms are they?”
“I'll manage. Besides, I'm impressing the ladies with this act of kindness towards an old woman.”
“What have I taught ye about blasphemy, ScottyGarrett? There’s the lass!”
Kinsey smiled as the two familiar faces emerged from Stockton’s latest arrivals. Winnie’s outstretched arms encircled the little cousin in a lavender scented hug accompanied with a kiss planted on top of the head. The older woman stepped back and with her hand under the young lady’s chin began to scrutinize.
“There’s something different about yer face, child. Ye glow.”
Scott was happy to clear up the confusion. “It's called exposure to the sun and fresh air, Winifred. You’re accustomed to viewing pallor and green mold.” Before a retort could be delivered, an introduction was extended. “Winnie, I want you to meet my brother.”
Johnny, through the years, had his share of encountering piercing eyes which could look directly into a man’s soul. However, nothing compared to the icy blues, which were lurking beneath the shadows of the straw boater hat and headed his way.
“Johnny, I'd like to introduce Winifred Mae McLoughlin.”
Tipping his hat, the younger brother smiled. “Ma’am.”
Eyes narrowed and the inspection began.
“So, this be the John Lancer the lass has mentioned?”
“Half-pint been talkin’ about me?”
“Ye answer questions with questions often, John Lancer?”
“Bet ya have a rule for that, don't ya Ma’am. Old number seven.” Johnny noticed his brother silently shaking his head and holding up five fingers. “I mean five...Rule Number Five.”
Winnie stepped in for a closer look. “Ye be havin’ a middle name, John Lancer? One can tell a lot from a man’s middle name.”
Johnny readjusted his hat and gazed at the sky. Kinsey's insistence on his middle name now had a purpose. “Well, as a matter a fact I do. It's Valens. John Valens Lancer.” Winnie’s continued stare indicated she required more. “Scott tells me Valens is Latin for ‘strong’ and ‘healthy’.” Not knowing what else to offer, Johnny produced one of his best smiles.
The woman's eyes narrowed further. “How many young ladies have ye charmed with that smile, John Valens Lancer?”
“I stopped counting, Ma’am.”
An eyebrow was raised disapprovingly.
“Since meeting Kinsey I haven't the need to use it elsewhere...well, until now.” The charming smile slowly slipped into a boyish grin.
Winifred McLoughlin’s eyes soften as a weathered hand reached up to pat Johnny’s cheek. “Well now, we be keepin’ an eye on ye JohnnyVal. Kinsey, take me to my carriage while these two fine young men carry along the weighty mementos from the place of my birth.”
Once Winnie was out of hearing range, Johnny let out a sigh of relief.
“Stand down, little brother. I believe you passed inspection.”
”You dealt with that woman on a daily basis?”
“I did.”
“How did ya manage?”
Scott donned his own boyish grin and pointed to it with his index finger. "One of WinnieMae's Achilles' heel. Watch and learn."
Each brother picked up a bag to head towards the wagon.
“Rule seven is her rule five? You can keep it all straight?”
“Like I said...I’m good with numbers.”
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