With hands clasped behind his back and eyes front, Scott stood poker straight while he waited on the platform for the 8:45 train from Stockton. Catching himself assuming the rigid stance, his annoyance doubled due to the knowledge this position had become a common occurrence since Melbourne and his first introduction to -
“It will be good to have the little lady here.” Seth’s mannerism displayed his familiar easy-going style of crossed arms, relaxed shoulders and a wide smile. “Damn nice of your father to grant her permission to join us.”
“Right.” Scott raised a questioning eyebrow. Permission. Visualizing Murdoch permitting the Clover Expert to venture three feet out the front door proved difficult.
“Yep. Fine as a flippence. Ah, that would be her words, not mine.” Seth nodded to confirm the good news contained in his telegram.
“Uh-huh.” Fine as a flippence. Obviously, Westcott's correspondence differed greatly from the one Scott received yesterday from Green River - starting with the name of the sender. Glancing down the train tracks, he briefly rocked back on his heels while mentally dissecting his younger brother’s telegram.
TIRED OF SLEEPING IN BARN
Well, that statement was quite plausible. After the fourth night of lumpy hay in a smelly stable with nothing to show for it except a stiff back, Johnny’s determination to catch Kinsey conducting a disappearing act could diminish considerably.
The next statement took a bit more analysis.
PUTTING FILLY ON MORNING TRAIN TO SACRAMENTO
What were the odds of Johnny offering Kinsey his escort services to the Stockton train station? Slim to none. And what were the chances Murdoch gave his blessing for her trip? Zero. So how in the hell did the wee lass manage to be stepping off the 8:45? Scott planned to make short work on getting an answer to that question.
GIVE MY REGARDS TO THE GRAPE CRUSHER
Without Johnny’s inflection, Scott could only guess the real message behind the telegram’s final line. Questionable, indeed, if his little brother’s words contained the slightest sense of sincerity. However, one aspect was certain regarding Westcott’s nickname. Grape Crusher would be sticking around.
A low mellow whistle spurred Seth to fish out his pocket watch. “On the dot. Got to say this about Leland - he keeps his train true to the schedule.”
“That he does.” Scott readjusted his hat to shadow his eyes as Stanford’s timely train released its final hiss of steam and squeal of brakes. The determined little mountain goat had arrived. On the dot.
Kinsey's light-heartedness bounced her off the Pullman, across the station platform and down K Street, arm-in-arm with her two business partners, to the Ebner Hotel. The young lady’s fine as a flippence persona wavered only once when Seth informed her of his impending absence. Earlier, Westcott suggested he would attend the day’s meeting alone which would allow the cousins time to discuss the past week’s events. The idea had suited Scott just fine.
*******
“Who is it?”
Kinsey’s clueless query responding to Scott’s knock on her hotel room door caused his customary slow exhale while readjusting his hat. Let the sparring begin. Another knock followed the first. “It's your cousin.” Silence. “Scott.” Silence. “Lancer.”
“Well, yes, of course, it is.”
The lack of movement behind the closed barrier spoke loudly.
“Kinsey Rose, open the door. I want to talk to you.” Another measured exhale. “I’m counting.”
A click of the lock and admittance was granted. “Counting?” Brown eyes rolled. “A grown man standing in a hallway counting to himself. Honestly, Scott.” Approaching her travel case on the bed, the young lady released its latch causing a petticoat to pop out much like a Jack-in-the-Box. “I think any discussion should wait until you stop sporting that look on your puss.”
Scott shut the door behind him, crossed his arms and leaned against the front of the room’s chiffonier. If his little cousin wished to put away her belongings, she’d need to go through him first. “And what kind of look is on my puss… exactly?”
Kinsey’s eyes narrowed with an inquisitive stare saved for examining a bug under a magnifying glass. “One of a stern, stubborn guardian with a hint of frustration brought on by the need to lecture.”
“Accurate.” Scott stooped to be eye level with his combatant. “And the look I'm observing on your puss, young lady -” Eyes squinted. “Is one of a devious, stubborn manipulator with a hint of concern brought on by the need to lie.” The soldier returned to his post of guarding the highboy. “Accurate?”
“I haven’t a notion what you're talking about.” The unpacking resumed.
Scott watched as one article of women's clothing after another sprung from the small travel bag. The act defied every law of physics the universe offered. “Well, let’s start with the notion of your previously-denied-now-granted visit to Sacramento. How did that come about if you don't mind me asking?”
“Mind? No. Not at all.” Skirts fluffed, blouses smoothed and an explanation formulated. “Your father was quite impressed with my completed essay on trifolium incarnatum. That’s Latin for clover.”
Scott made a mental note to introduce his cousin to Raleigh Greenleaf. “Oh? So impressed that he put you on the next train to Sacramento?”
A cluck of the tongue punctuated the silliness of the question. “I believe that goes without saying.”
“What goes without saying?” Arms recrossed. “Murdoch's change of heart or your arrival on a train?”
Kinsey’s opened mouth offered no immediate words.
Scott smiled at his cousin’s hesitation. Reaching into his shirt pocket he withdrew a piece of paper. “Tired of sleeping in barn. Putting filly on morning train to Sacramento. Give my regards to the grape crusher. J.” The telegram returned to the pocket.
The realization of betrayal assisted the little cousin in finding her voice. “Bloody hell. Johnny promised.”
“Johnny promised?” Scott removed his hat and tossed it on the bed - adding it to a corset-topped pile of undergarments. “Sit.” Snagging a chair, he positioned himself across from the teller of tales as she slowly landed amongst her unpacked wardrobe. “Best start saying what goes without saying or your flip as a flippence day will be taking a turn.”
“Well…” A dramatic sigh was offered to counter possible chastisement. “It's rather complicated.”
“Most of our conversations tend to be as such so I've grown accustomed to the experience.” Scott settled in - resting his ankle on a knee. “Please, continue.”
His cousin’s deep inhale signaled the onslaught of an abrupt verbal delivery to quickly divert the unwanted conversation. How Extraordinary, I’m Sorry, Not Me and Bugger Off were just a few of the many included in the girl’s repertoire. Scott called it the one-two punch and he’d prepared a response for each and all.
“Leticia Lopez.”
Scott blinked. One. And then again. Two. A new punch had been added to the list.
“You remember Leticia Lopez - the charming girl who assists at Sister Rosa’s mission.” Kinsey held out her hands to accentuate the unbelievable news. “Johnny’s in love.”
Scott closed his eyes. It was his only self preservation strategy currently available as his cousin’s explanation snowballed down a mountain.
”I swear, it was love at first sight for Johnny. Smitten. Plain and simple. I can think of no other word which describes it more precisely.”
Think harder, Freckles.
“Leticia possesses a multitude of fine talents Johnny admires.”
Now, there’s a fact that goes without saying.
“Her hands work absolute magic in the kitchen.”
I'm sure her hands move impressively.
“Why, you should have seen the expression on Johnny's face the first time he watched Leticia knead bread dough.”
Sweet Jesus above.
“And she can truss up a turkey with her eyes closed. Give that girl a piece of rope and… well…”
Whoa.
“Let’s just say Cupid’s arrow pierced Johnny’s heart with passion.”
Not my first guess for Cupid’s target on Johnny.
“So when I informed your brother my visits to the mission once a week were no longer required… Murdoch said I’d learned my lesson. Honestly Scott. Learned my lesson. When is that man going to stop treating me like a child?”
Never. Trust me.
“Well, you can imagine how dismayed Johnny was at this unexpected fly in his ointment of romance. His convenient weekly rendezvous with the love of his life had come to an end. But then the solution to his dilemma came to me at that very second! I marched in to your father and demanded that I continue my weekly work at the mission. Honestly Scott, any good Christian would have done the same. And in appreciation of my selfless act to heal his broken heart, Johnny offered to escort me to the Stockton train station.”
With his brain mulling over the possibility of a fly in his brother’s ointment of romance, it took a moment for Scott to realize Kinsey had stopped talking and opened his eyes. “Agreed. Rather complicated.”
Kinsey rose.
“Understandably, I have a few questions.” Scott observed Lancer’s newly appointed matchmaker reseat herself. “Johnny was sleeping in the barn. Did he mention why?”
Kinsey lowered her voice. “Personal reasons perhaps. I didn’t pry. A proper young lady never pries into a gentleman’s personal affairs. The Ladies' Book of Etiquette, and Manual of Politeness. Chapter 6. Page 52.”
“I see.” Scott rubbed his chin. “I have to say, little one, I commend you on your selfless act of kindness which benefits my brother. What luck Murdoch gave the nod.” An eyebrow raised. “My father did agree to your travel, correct?”
“Johnny insisted he’d be the one to speak to your father… once he returned.... from Stockton.”
Murdoch traveled to Stockton? No. Wait. Scott’s raised eyebrows dipped as his initial suspicion was confirmed. Johnny had put the filly on the train without their father’s blessing. “I'll be damned.”
“I told you.” Kinsey mimicked Cupid drawing back the bow and releasing an arrow. “Johnny’s in love. Now, if you don’t mind -”
Scott’s hand reached out and settled on the cousin’s shoulder to hold her in place.
“Final question...if you don’t mind.”
“Fine.” Kinsey’s tone suggested something different.
“Sister Rosa.”
The teller of tales blinked. And then she blinked again.
Scott smiled at his own successful delivery of the one-two punch. “You stated it was just in the last few days your admirable decision to continue on at the mission came to mind - for Johnny’s well-being, yet, a few weeks ago the good sister informed me of this decision of yours. How do you explain the phenomenon, Freckles?”
“How extraordinary! God spoke to Sister Rosa. It’s what he does, Scott. He talks to nuns.”
Sacramento, California
The Ebner Hotel
Sitting on the balcony while waiting for the dinner hour has provided me a time of -
Scott paused to grin as he replayed snippets of his conversation with Kinsey.
- humorous reflection. With little effort, my cousin masterfully explained how her arrival in Sacramento came about. During our informative session I learned Johnny is in love...again. I look forward to returning home and conversing with my little brother. Our late night double-stacked roast beef sandwiches are on the menu.
It’s been verified. God truly does talk to nuns. Kinsey said it with such conviction I felt it would be blasphemous to disagree.
“Yo! Lancer!”
Scott glanced over the balcony railing to spot Westcott waving as he crossed the street below. “How did today’s meeting go?”
“Another late night, business partner.” Seth held up a newly purchased box of cigars. "More negotiations."
The week in a Sacramento draws to close soon. We manage two moves ahead on the chessboard and George West takes three. However, a new player has joined the game. And she knows someone who talks to God.
~ S.
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