“He’s mean by nature and used to having his way,” Will said. “Was that it, then? Did he leave you alone?”
She nodded. “Yes, that was the last I heard of him.” She smiled sadly. “Of course, Teal’s raiders burned us out a couple of weeks later. Maybe Sully thought I died. Maybe that’s why he’s left me alone. I haven’t seen him since.”
“You don’t have to worry about Sully Weatherspoon, not with me home,” Will said and stopped in front of the county office.
“What are we doing here?”
“You’ll see,” Will said, opening the door for her.
Inside, they were greeted by Jasper Blevins, the county clerk. “Well, hello, Will. I ain’t seen you in a coon’s age. And would that be Miss Dunne?”
“It would,” Will said, shaking the man’s hand. “Mr. Blevins, meet Maggie Dunne. Maggie, Mr. Blevins.”
Mr. Blevins smiled. “I haven’t seen you for years, not since well before the war, when you were just a little girl, but I’d recognize that hair of yours anywhere. If I recall correctly, the last time I saw you, you were in trouble for crawling halfway into the pickle jar over at the general store.”
Maggie burst out in laughter. “Oh yes! I remember that. But I didn’t just crawl halfway in. I fell in! Then we came in here because Father had to pay the taxes, and he made me stand close to the door because I smelled like pickles.”
Mr. Blevins slapped the counter, laughing hard. “That’s it. That’s exactly what happened. Well, I’m glad to see you again, Miss Dunne, and I was sorry to hear about your family.”
“Thank you, Mr. Blevins,” Maggie said. “I miss them.”
“I’ll bet you do, young lady. Horrible thing. I hope someone shoots that Teal soon. He claims to still be fighting the war. He’s not fighting the war, unless he’s waging it against Texans. He’s a murdering thief, that’s what he is. I hope somebody shoots him dead.”
“So do I, Mr. Blevins,” Maggie said.
“But here I go, spoiling things. You folks came in here with smiles on your faces. Let’s just forget Teal and all the rest of it. Now, what can I do for y’all?”
“We’re back for the same reason that Maggie was here last time. What are the back taxes on her property?”
“Just a moment, and I’ll look that up for you, Will. Gosh, it’s good to see you again. You’ve grown. Filled in with muscle.” Blevins turned his spectacles toward Maggie. “Have you ever seen such muscles on a man?”
“Nope,” Maggie said with a grin. “Never. Will’s muscled up like a fine stallion.”
Embarrassed, Will said, “Let’s see about those back taxes.”
While Mr. Blevins fetched his book, Maggie said, “It’s fun to watch you squirm.”
“You liked that, huh? Better watch out or I’ll dunk you in Pelton’s pickle barrel.”
She laughed and bumped her hip into his. “What are we doing here? Even if the back taxes are ten cents, I can’t pay them.”
“Hush,” Will said, “or it’s the pickle barrel for you.”
Laughing, she bumped her hip into his again. “You wouldn’t dare, Will Bentley.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he said, and then Blevins came back with his book.
“Well, the taxes haven’t been paid for a few years. Of course, the county absolved taxpayers of all liability for two years running, so the total back taxes owed are sixteen dollars and fourteen cents.”
Will took out his wallet and retrieved a stack of greenbacks.
Mr. Blevins smiled, and his eyes swelled behind his spectacles. “You have money.”
“That is correct.”
“Excellent,” Mr. Blevins said. “And you wish to pay the taxes in full?”
“Yes, sir,” Will said.
