“It appears the family has deserted us, ScottyGarrett.”
Scott, sitting at his father’s desk while working on the books, glanced up to see the older woman ease herself into the chair he usually occupied with Emerson.
“Well, Murdoch had a meeting in town, Teresa is at the parish, and Johnny took Kinsey out to shoot up the countryside riding that oversized beastly animal I foolishly bought her ” Scott knew his sarcasm was among the very few Winnie would permit.
“And what ye be doin’ there?”
“Balancing the monthly ledgers.”
“Ah, ye always were good with numbers.”
Focusing on the columns of figures, Scott smiled. “Winifred, if I had a nickel every time you had told me I’m good with numbers I would be a rich man today. Appreciate the peace and quiet; it never lasts long around here. If my memory serves me correctly this is to be a holiday for you.”
“It is.”
“And the first thing you do is pack up Maria and send her off to her sisters so you can take over the kitchen.”
“Well now, I didn't want to offend the woman but her cooking is indeed an acquired taste. No wonder yer scrawny.”
Scott rolled his eyes.
“And yer father sitting there callin’ it ‘traditional fare’. Ha. It's time he remembered where he came from.”
“And you're planning his journey to his past through food?”
“It's a road of many.”
“The point I'm trying to make, Winnie, is this should be a time to relax and enjoy yourself.”
“I'm taking care of others. That’s how I relax and enjoy myself.”
“And who is taking care of you?”
“The Good Lord.”
“Is he?”
“Are ye questioning the Lord’s work? It’s clear ye been livin’ amongst frontier heathens.”
“What I’m questioning, Winifred, is how truthful you’ve been about your well-being.”
“Oh now, if ye care to be changin’ the conversation topic to ‘truthfulness’ I have a few questions of my own.”
Scott guessed from the moment Winnie set eyes on his father she realized Murdoch’s sincere invitation communicated in Kinsey's letter had been not been exactly 'truthful'. His guessing was completely eliminated when the older woman announced she would be having a discussion with Scott in the near future. Since then he had been avoiding opportunities for her to do so. However, today he had let his guard down, walked right into Winnie’s quicksand and was about to sink fast. Under the intense glare of the interrogator, Scott stalled for time by slowly closing the ledger and carefully placing it in the upper right-hand drawer. Folding his hands in front of him on the desk, he looked up sporting his boyish grin.
“Ah, Scott Garrett Lancer, ye need to know that stopped workin’ some time ago.”
Even though the grin gave way to a smirk the dimples remained. “All righ, Winnie. Let’s have our talk.”
“Ye know my views on being honest.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“And ye know how I feel about being truthful.”
“I do.”
“And there’s my tolerance for deception.”
“Rule Number Four.”
“So explain to me, if you will, how I was under the impression that Murdoch is embracing the notion to bury the hatchet after all these years.”
“Well, perhaps you misunderstood…”
“I'm quoting from the lass’s letter...Murdoch is embracing the notion to bury the hatchet after all these years.”
Scott rubbed the back of his neck. ‘God, Kinsey.’ The young man tried a different approach. “I think we can all agree my father has difficulty expressing his feelings.”
The cold stare Scott received confirmed his last statement did not justify a response.
“You see, Winnie…Kinsey…”
“Ah. KinseyRose. Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“Her heart’s in the right place; it’s just she embellishes at times.”
“Embellish is just another fancy word for lyin’, ScottyGarrett. Does her 'embellishing' happen often?”
‘Often enough.’ Scott held out his hands. “Look, when I found out what she had done…”
“Oh. So ye knew what she had done.”
Like a drowning man, Scott struggled to stay afloat. “Yes. I found out about two weeks before you arrived. And yes, I could have sent you a telegram to call the trip off but I didn't because Kinsey intentions are from the heart. The young lady got reprimanded but there’s more to this so while we're pointing fingers, Winifred, let me point a few of my own. Can you sit there and truthfully say you believed Murdoch Lancer was embracing the notion of burying the hatchet after all these years or is there more to this visit you haven't told me? ”
The speed of Scott’s gradual exhale matched the smile appearing on his friend’s face. “Well, now, it appears our conversation has gone full circle and ‘truthfulness’ has landed back in me lap.” Winnie rose. “I’ll leave you alone with your numbers. When KinseyRose returns, please inform the lass I want to see her. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Scott didn’t revisit his numbers but instead claimed the chair Winnie had recently vacated. Even though he held a book he wasn’t turning the pages. Instead, his mind was replaying the words which were spoken this afternoon when the front door slammed shut blowing Kinsey into the study.
“Buck is extraordinary! We had a wonderful ride!”
“That’s good to hear, Freckles.”
“When can he start his jumping lessons?”
“When you finish your patience lessons. By the way, Winnie is looking for you. She’s in the kitchen.”
“Oh. Did she say what she wanted?”
Scott returned to his book. “Nope.”
“Why does she want to see me?”
“Haven’t a clue.” Out of the corner of his eye, Scott caught his little cousin biting her lower lip and staring in the direction of the kitchen.
“She said she was going to teach me how to make her biscuits. I’m sure that’s it.”
“I’m sure it is.”
San Joaquin Valley, California
I’ve just been informed by my red-faced cousin that she and Winnie will be traveling to Green River tomorrow before any biscuits can be baked. Maria’s wooden spoon needs to be replaced.
~ S.
Comments