“Yeah,” said Finn. “We got the same powerful interest in folks that you do, Marshal, only we ain’t got the credentials to make it anything but nosy.”
“Is that right,” Cobb said wryly.
Finn either missed the edge of sarcasm or, more likely, chose to ignore it. He said, “Sure. That’s why Rabbit called out to you. We were goin’ to stop here anyway.”
Cobb turned his attention to Rabbit. “Oh?”
“We got to thinking that maybe there’s something you want us to do for you since we’re headed out there. You got a message for anyone? Maybe you want to send a pie or some cookies along. You know, just to be neighborly.”
“Uh-huh. Just to be neighborly.” He glanced back at the crate. “When did that come in?”
“I reckon about a week ago,” said Rabbit. “Pap held it thinkin’ someone from the ranch would be in and could take delivery, but no one’s shown up for a spell. That’s why it’s our job now.”
“Yeah,” said Finn. “And it’s not so far to the ranch house that we can’t get there and back before dark. Not that the dark bothers us. You know we do our best work at night.”
“I do know that.” Cobb was not warm to the idea of the boys going out to the ranch again, but he had no compelling reason to stop them. He had seen Morgan one time since he and Jane visited his office together, and Max Salter had been in town shortly after that. They had nothing to report. The ranch was quiet and there were no signs of anyone riding the outskirts of the property.
Then there was the crate. Cobb estimated it was three feet high, four feet wide, and another three feet deep. All kinds of things could fit into a box like that. It was tempting to look inside, but not even his credentials made that right or legal. He let it go.
“All right,” he said. “I guess I could send you out there with something from Jenny’s bakery.”
“Is there a message?” Finn asked hopefully.
“Yes. Give my best to Mrs. Longstreet.”
“That’s it? You ain’t goin’ to make us deputies? Rabbit and me figure we could be transportin’ somethin’ of great significance.”
Rabbit added, “Could be there’s gold. Guns maybe. Bottles of good whiskey packed in excelsior. It’s heavy enough. We’ve been speculating.”
“I bet you have. All right. Both of you, raise your right hand. Your right hand, Finn. Good. From this point forward, you are my special deputies, charged with the safe transport of this box to Morning Star ranch. Your commission ends when you report back in. I’ll be waiting for you.”
“Mrs. Longstreet’s real nice,” said Finn. “She could invite to us sit for a meal like she did the last time.”
“Fine. Eat. But when you get back here, find me. Go on. You know where the bakery is. I’ll meet you there.”
A sharp, bitter wind buffeted Jane as she removed sheets from the clothesline. She collected wooden pins in her mouth as she moved along. It was difficult to know if the sheets were dry or merely frozen. They were certainly stiff.
“Here,” Max Salter said. “Let me help you. I don’t even think you should be doing this.”
Jane blinked. Like an actor stepping out to address his audience, Max had parted two sheets to make his entrance. Jane plucked the pins from her mouth and dropped them into the pocket at the front of her apron. “Here, take these.” She thrust the crackling sheets into his hands and quickly went down the line, removing shirts, shifts, and a union suit.
“Why shouldn’t I be doing this?” she asked.
Max shifted his slight weight from side to side and shrugged.
“Careful, Max. Stay steady or you’ll be three sheets to the wind.”
He laughed. “That’s a good one, ma’am.”
Above her armload of clothes, Jane smiled humbly and tilted her head toward the house. “Inside. Now.” The wind whipped her dress so hard that the ruffled edge of her petticoats turned up. She hurried off without looking to see if Max was following her.
He was. He got inside, wrestled the door shut, and dropped his load on top of the one Jane had put on the table. She was facing the stove, warming her hands over it. He held up his gloved ones, wriggled his fingers.
“Yes, I know,” she said. “It was foolish to go outside without gloves. I can’t find them. I can’t find anything these days, Max. Wherever I am, my mind is somewhere else.”
“I don’t think that’s unusual, considering your circumstances.”
“My circumstances? My circumstances are no different than anyone else’s. We are in this together, aren’t we?”
