Blessing. Deborah Bedford
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“I’d be willing to tell you the whole story.”
“I don’t like Olney’s money, either,” John Kincaid admitted now. “Though I find his gold dust a whole lot more tasteful than I find him. Looks like I won’t be bending to bribes.” John Kincaid pulled out a red law book that looked exactly like the ones Otto Violet and Seth Wood had been thumping earlier. “Let’s get down to business. We’ve got thirty-six hours to come up with a way to keep you from swinging high.”
* * *
Just as Uley was clearing the cobalt-blue tin plates from the table that night, a timid rap came at the front door.
Samuel rose from the table and opened it. There stood Tin Can Laura in the dark, all dressed in red silk, with a huge matching plume on her head and enough kohl on her eyes that Uley almost didn’t recognize her.
“Hello.” She cast her eyes toward the smooth-swept dirt floor. “Gotta get back to Santa Fe Moll’s. But Storm here’s been tellin’ me he wanted to come to his new place and move in. What with spring coming and all the moles coming out, you’ll be needin’ him to do his duties purty soon. Knew you wouldn’t wanta be seen with me in the broad daylight, so I figured I’d better do this tonight.”
Uley’s heart lifted when she saw her new friend.
“Laura. Get in here,” she said. “Have a piece of huckleberry pie. I was just fixing to cut it open.” It suddenly seemed so important to her, treating Laura to sweets, making her feel welcome, letting her know that this was a place she could visit.
“Nope. Can’t do it. Moll will have my hide when she finds out I left the parlor. But Storm’s been caterwaulin’ something awful. He don’t like being locked up in my room anymore. It bothers the customers, having a cat howling next door.”
“Here.” Uley took Storm out of Laura’s skirt and pitched him unceremoniously on the bed. Then she grabbed her coat. “If you’re so set on not staying, then I’ll walk you back.”
“There’s no need of it.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll do it, anyway.”
“I heard,” Laura said as they marched along through the slush, “that there’s a real lady in town.”
“Yep. She came in on the supply wagon today.”
“Everybody over at Ongewach’s is talking about her. They say she’s got eyes like cornflowers and hair like sunbeams and a waist no bigger around than a willow tree.”
“That’s what they say, all right. Everybody’s talking about her everywhere you go.”
“Wish somebody would talk about me like that,” Laura said longingly.
Uley sighed. It was a deep, hollow sigh that reached down to her very soul.
* * *
The Gold Cup Mine, owned by Captain Hall and Carl Hord of the Bald Mountain Mining Company, was the first of the fifty-six mines in the valley to call off operations on Thursday. All the miners wanted to be at the Tin Cup Town Hall, supporting Uley Kirkland as the kid testified against the man who’d tried to murder the marshal.
Hord announced the Gold Cup’s schedule at 9:20 on Wednesday morning. An hour later, others were announcing the plan, as well. The Spotted Tail would be closed. The Little Fred would be closed. So would the Ontario, the Jimmy Mack and the Anna Parallel.
“Can’t believe the Bullion King won’t be open tomorrow,” Sam said as they all worked underground on Wednesday trying to get things ready so that they could leave for two days. “Doc Gillette doesn’t even like to come out of his mine when somebody’s dying. Remember when Pete Wiley caught his beard on fire? He had to wait four hours before Doc Gillette would come up out of the Bullion King and treat his burns.”
“Well,” Charlie Sparks said, “that just goes to show you how thankful everyone in this town is to Uley. This is one important trial around here.”
“Three cheers for Uley!” someone else joined in. “Hip-hip-hooray!”
Uley kept her eye on the timber, pegging it into the corner of the rocks with hammer blows so fierce they made the granite shiver. “I don’t like being the entertainment for the rest of this town. I’d just as soon I didn’t have to go down there tomorrow.” That was the understatement of the year. “Wish somebody else could go down there and testify in my place.”
“There isn’t anyone else can tell the jury what you saw, Uley,” her pa said.
She went after the pegs even harder. “I know that.”
On Wednesday afternoon, just when Uley thought all the hoopla was about to die down, Marshal Harris Olney himself came up shaft eleven wagging a lantern out in front of him. “Uley?” he shouted so loud that loose rocks fell off the ledges above them. “Is Uley Kirkland back here?”
Back here? Back here? Back here? The sound echoed all the way up the shaft.
“I’m standing right beneath your nose, Marshal. If you holler much louder than that, you’re going to make the whole shaft cave in.”
“I need you to come outside with me, Uley. You and me, we need to have a talk.”
“I don’t see as we have anything to talk about.”
“Oh, but we do.” Olney wrapped his arm around her shoulder and propelled Uley forward. “You saved my life, remember? I’m here to offer you compensation for all your trouble.”
“And what might that compensation be?”
“I’ll tell you when we reach daylight, son,” he said.
Then, at the mouth of shaft eleven, Olney began to lay out his plan.
“I know you are just as eager to do away with that foul murderer as I am, Uley. I know you have eyewitness testimony against Aaron Brown. I’m here to encourage you not to falter in any of it. I have a hefty reward waiting for you in my office for the day Aaron Brown is hanged.”
“I don’t need a reward, Marshal,” she said, feeling an odd twinge of guilt when she thought how Aaron’s hanging would absolve her of a problem, too. “I’ll just be glad to know that justice has been done.”
* * *
It was seven o’clock that night, and Uley was finishing up her father’s washing in the tub beside the warm wood stove, when there came a sharp knock at the cabin door. Uley straightened, leaving one last flannel shirt in the water to soak, and poked all the tendrils of hair up beneath her hat.
Sam opened the door and stuck his head out into the darkness. “Hello?”
Aaron stood on the rickety porch, his Stetson brim crumpled in his fists. “I’d like to see Uley, if I may.”
Samuel cocked his head, not quite knowing if he should let the man in or coax him off the porch with his shotgun. “Why on earth would you want to see Uley on the eve