Train Station
Stockton, California
The deceleration of our train’s speed as it nears Stockton, California is matched by the acceleration of my cousin’s anxiety as she nears Murdoch Lancer.
“Do you see him?”
Scott glanced up from his journal to observe Kinsey’s eyes glued to her window. “See who?” His quick chuckle couldn’t be helped - they had yet to pull into the station.
“Well, I’m glad you find all of this so amusing, Scott Garrett.”
Considering she is solely responsible for her current dilemma, I find Kinsey’s response to facing my father entertaining. Murdoch has become more of a father to my cousin in the last several months than her own father of nineteen years. I believe my father has earned her respect - the respect Edison Furlong never deserved. She’s had a few battles with the tune caller - the first one being a temper tantrum which earned her a trip over his knee. It was the first and last tantrum she gifted my father with. However, her defiant nature continues to get his dander up.
“How can you be writing when the state of my well-being is in peril?”
Scott rolled his eyes to the drama now surfacing. “The future state of your well-being is your own fault, little lady.”
The last few days have provided time for my father to decide on Kinsey’s fate for running off in the middle of the night, which left him pacing the floor until my telegram arrived. Two facts are currently working in favor of my cousin. One: Murdoch’s verdicts are delivered in a timely fashion - swift and prompt. Two: In Stockton, there’s no Great Room to be hauled off to.
“You’re writing about me! I can tell!”
“How can you tell?”
“You’re smirking.”
Scott had to admit - he was smirking. “I thought your concern centered on your retributions and not on my recollections.”
“Well, perhaps I’ll follow your suggestion after all and keep my own journal. One might be surprised by what I can recollect. Maybe I’ll write a book.”
Scott’s voice took on a sinister inflection as he swept his arm out in front of him. “Hat Boxes and Chatterboxes: Tales From the Dress Shop. Read it if you dare.” Silence. It appeared his first title suggestion had been rejected, even though his captive audience of one struggled to maintain her aloof composure. “The Gossip Ghouls of Green River?”
Kinsey’s stifled laugh escaped out her nose. “You’re incorrigible.”
The cousins’ banter abruptly ended as Old No. 7 gave its last low whistle to signal their arrival in Stockton. Scott closed his journal and stuffed it in his leather bag.
“Come on, Emily Dickinson. Time to face the music.”
*******
A startled “oh” and a hasty, crouched retreat behind wooden barrels stacked on the station platform showed Kinsey had spotted Murdoch before Scott did.
Three long strides brought him to his cousin’s hiding place. Dropping their bags and placing his hands on hips, he stared down. “What are you doing?”
“He’s...here.” Panic demanded a breath between the two words.
“Murdoch? Of course, he’s here.”
Kinsey’s head momentarily rose above the barrels to take another look. It reminded
Scott of a prairie dog popping out of its hole.
“Look who’s with him!” His cousin ducked once again behind her sanctuary.
Truth be told, he hadn’t spotted his father before Kinsey took off. Pushing his hat back on his head he scanned the thinning crowd - finally spying Murdoch’s familiar face. Scott expected to see Johnny standing next to him but instead -
“It’s a nun!” Kinsey’s voice had now reached an octave which could shatter fine crystal.
Scott squinted toward their welcoming party. Indeed, it was a nun - Sister Rosa - a lovely, kind woman in charge of the mission just outside Morro Coyo. However, today Sister Rosa stood beside his father with an expression which would cause a hard-nosed general’s knees to shake. Murdoch gave a slight wave with a nod. But it was the way his father smiled - a cue to play along. Readjusting his hat, Scott returned the gesture with a smile of his own.
“Yes, it’s a nun, Kinsey. Now, stand.” Grabbing her upper arm, he lifted his cousin up and out from behind the barrels.
“He’s sending me away, Scott...to Sacramento...he’s handing me over to the Good Sisters of Mercy in Sacramento!”
Concerned she would take off, Scott held on to Kinsey while craning his neck to see Murdoch hadn’t moved - neither had Sister Rosa. If his father planned to put the fear of God into this little runaway’s heart, he was succeeding, tenfold.
“Scott, I’ll make a terrible nun!”
He couldn’t argue that one. “Listen to me. You brought this on yourself. Sooner or later everyone sits down -”
“Yes, I know! They sit down to a meal of regret!”
“Actually, it’s a banquet of consequences.”
“I don’t care what Emerson has to say!”
“Robert Louis Stevenson.”
“SCOTT!”
She looked like a scared jackrabbit ready to bolt. “Kinsey, calm down. I’m letting go and if you take off, I swear - I’ll deliver you to the Good Sisters of Mercy.” Slowly, Scott released his grasp. However, his hands hovered at her shoulders for a quick snatch, if necessary. “Now, Murdoch is firm but fair. We’re walking over to him and accepting any and all outcomes.”
“Easy for you to say. He’s not shipping you off to Sacramento.”
Scott wasn’t so sure. He’d stretched the truth earlier. Murdoch firm? Absolutely. Murdoch fair? Sometimes questionable. Gathering their bags in each hand, Scott nodded to his right. “Move.”
“Son.” His father’s outstretched hand and a smile greeted Scott as he set their luggage aside to accept the welcoming handshake.
“Sir, it’s good to be back.”
The patriarch’s eyes shifted to the midnight runner. “It’s good to have you both back - firmly planted on California soil. I trust your trip, young lady, was...satisfactory.”
Scott raised an eyebrow at the silence. All knowledge of the King’s English had escaped his little cousin. Clearing his throat, he did his best to fill the void. “The trip, sir, was...uneventful.” Scott waited for the lightning bolt from the heavens to strike him dead.
Murdoch introduced his companion. “I’d like you to meet someone. This is Sister Rosa -”
“From Sacramento.” The runaway had found her voice. “The Good Sisters of Mercy in Sacramento.”
Staring straight ahead, Sister Rosa remained the statue of stern, while Murdoch Lancer chose his words very carefully - neither confirming or denying Kinsey’s conclusion. “I’ve been in contact with Sister Rosa and she kindly agreed to meet me here during her brief stay in Stockton before leaving to assume her responsibilities. She wished to meet you, Kinsey Rose.”
Sister Rosa’s perfectly timed icy stare landed heavily on his cousin. Scott admired a passing cloud overhead to help stifle a grin. Oh yes. His father and the good sister had definitely been in contact.
“Hello, Sister.” Kinsey’s vocabulary had been greatly reduced.
“Sister Rosa, we won’t take up any more of your time.” Murdoch’s wink reached the intended recipients - his oldest son and the Lord’s servant. “Safe travels to the mission.”
A nod and the good sister broke her silence. “I will see you in a few days, Kinsey Rose. We’ll have our necessary talk then, my child.”
Murdoch’s genial smile following Sister Rosa’s departure gradually transformed into a dour frown as he turned and towered over the little cousin. “On the other hand, young lady, our necessary talk will take place when we’re settled in at the hotel.”
Scott raised an eyebrow. Stockton had a Great Room after all.
*******
According to Scott’s pocket watch, the necessary talk was reaching the one hour mark. Murdoch’s booming voice reverberated through a wall thin enough to allow his tone to pass but thick enough to halt the actual words. The discussion reached its crescendo, vibrating a picture hanging on the wall. Scott swore the painting moved. A moment of dramatic silence - a few minutes of murmurs - the opening and closing of his father’s room door.
Expecting to hear Kinsey enter her room across the hall, Scott was surprised when there was a soft knock on his door. “Yes?”
The door opened with a quiet request to enter.
“Of course.” Scott pulled out a chair for his cousin as he sat on the bed across from her. Kinsey’s red-rimmed eyes announced the lecture had been a rough one. However, the handkerchief wiping away the remaining tears belonged to his father. A positive sign.
“I owe you an apology, Scott. I caused you - and others - unnecessary worry and headaches. It was a thoughtless decision I made and I’m sorry.”
To maintain an authoritative presence, a simple nod was given. “Apology accepted.” God, she looked pitiful. “So, tell me, will you be packing for Sacramento?”
“No.” Kinsey straightened up in her chair and cleared her throat. “Once a week, I’ll be escorted to Sister Rosa’s mission.”
He could already guess who her escort would be. The younger brother who’d been doing double duty at the ranch in Scott’s absence.
“I’ll be volunteering my services for the day. After a few weeks...months...possibly a year, it will be decided if my behavior needs further tutelage in Sacramento.”
Again, a nod was all Scott could muster in order not to grin. “I see.” A piece of paper occupied Kinsey’s one hand. “What do you have there?”
A deep sigh introduced the reply. “It’s a list. Sister Rosa believes idle hands are the root to all evil.”
“Ah, I think the saying goes - money is the root to all evil, Freckles. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”
“Yes, that too. So, this is a list of chores for me to accomplish when I’m not at the mission.”
Scott already knew the answer to the next question, but he had to ask. “What’s the first task listed?”
Kinsey examined the paper. “Paint the chicken coop. Honestly, Scott - didn’t Johnny whitewash the chicken coop just last month?”
Yes. Last month Johnny got himself in a fight which resulted in some costly damages at the saloon. “Murdoch appreciates a pristine chicken coop.” Lame - but it was the first reasoning that popped into Scott’s head.
“Polish all the silver. Do you know how much silver that is?!”
Actually, he did. Not that long ago Scott had racked up his own hefty bill in damages during a bar fight. “Enough silver to provide a lot of time to think, little one. Trust me.”
Kinsey rose and opened the door to leave. “I best put myself back together. Da wants us to meet him at six for supper.”
Scott watched the door close and smiled. He was certain Kinsey hadn’t realized what she had just called Murdoch.
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