“If that’s a question, the answer is yes. That’s all it is.”
Jane considered that. “Thank you.” Her chair scraped the floor as she pushed back from the table. Standing, she reached for the dishes. “Now I have work to do, including laundry. With everyone else away this morning, it will be your turn to hang the wash on the line for me.”
Morgan finished his coffee, watching her as she turned her back on him and faced the sink. Damn, but she had enjoyed saying that. He grinned a little then because he couldn’t really blame her.
As it happened, Morgan got out of laundry line duty because of the timely arrival of Rabbit and Finn Collins. Morgan saw them when they were still a far piece from the house. It was not their first visit to Morning Star, and he recognized them by the meandering route they were taking, as if staying on what passed for the road was just not interesting enough. They were driving the old buckboard they used to deliver visitors and luggage from the station to the hotel, and it was fairly certain in his mind that they were fussing over who should be holding the reins.
Morgan made a point of intercepting them before they reached the house. He had a pretty good idea what had brought them out his way, and when they announced importantly that they were on official deputy business, he knew he was right.
“You better show me that business before we reach the house,” he told them, walking alongside the wagon. “Are you carrying something for me?”
Finn pointed to his temple. “Carrying it right here, Mr. Longstreet. Marshal Bridger didn’t give us anything to pass along. Put it in our heads and made us memorize it. We’re pretty good at that. Rabbit here knows all the presidents up through Mr. Benjamin Harrison, and I know just about everything there is to know about General George Washington on account of Mrs. Bridger thinkin’ there might be a lesson in it for me about tellin’ the truth and all.”
Morgan did not know why he thought Finn could be hurried. “You’re referring to the cherry tree.”
“Ain’t I just? It’s a sorrowful tale. I figure he got a butt whuppin’ for what he did, but no one wrote that part down.”
“I’m sure Mrs. Bridger will want to hear your opinion on that, but I don’t. Not right now.” Morgan reached across Finn’s lap and took the reins from Rabbit. He pulled up on them and brought the mare to a halt. “Boys? What do you have to tell me? Rabbit, you go first.”
Rabbit lowered his scarf and tucked it under his chin. “Marshal says Pepper, Wilcox, and Ravenwood never did go as far as Cheyenne. He says it could have been around Westerville, but he doesn’t know for certain, and he says you might want to have a look around Hickory Lake.”
“Is that all?”
Finn said, “Except for the part about dropping by his office first chance you get to look at some sketches he made. I told him we’d bring them out, but he said he’d rather have you look at them there.”
Morgan could think of two reasons Bridger wanted it that way. The first was to keep them out of the boys’ hands; the second was so the marshal could have a look at his face while he studied the drawings. It was a good strategy, except that it wasn’t going to happen.
Still holding the reins, Morgan glanced in the back of the buckboard. There were two parcels of equal size in the bed of the wagon, both wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. The similarities ended there. One of them had obviously been opened, though a serious, if clumsy, attempt had been made to rewrap it. “What else are you boys bringing out here on official deputy business?”
Rabbit said, “Marshal Bridger said we should have something to show for our trip, so he bought an apple pie out of his own pocket from Mrs. Phillips.”
Morgan did not inquire about the contents of the other parcel. From the way the boys were nervously licking their lips, it was probably safe to assume that had already helped themselves to the contents. Cookies, Morgan guessed, but he was hoping for tarts.
He handed the reins back to Rabbit. “How about coming up to the house for something to eat? Mrs. Longstreet will enjoy your company.”
“That’s what Marshal Bridger said, but he was kinda chucklin’ out of the side of his mouth when he said it. You know what I mean?”
“I know exactly what you mean. C’mon. Let’s get you up to the barn, take care of your horse, and then maybe you’ll want to meet Sophie. She’s the mustang I captured a while back.”
There followed a rather philosophical discussion as to whether “Sophie” was the proper name for a horse, especially one that been running the range all her life, but once the boys were properly introduced, they agreed that Mrs. Longstreet had got it right.
“We have guests,” Morgan told Jane as he came through the kitchen door. “They’ll be in directly. They’re putting up that basket of wash you set out for me.”
Wiping her hands on her apron, Jane sidled from the cookstove to the sink and looked out the window. She got there in time to see Rabbit jump up and toss one of Morgan’s shirts over the clothesline. Finn was standing on the other side to catch it in case Rabbit overthrew his mark. They did not have a good strategy if the throw was short. “You are shameless,” she told Morgan.
“So are they. The marshal sent them out with two parcels of baked goods. You’ll be able see right off which one they were sampling.”
That made Jane laugh. “Will they stay for lunch?”
“I don’t think we can get rid of them without feeding them first.” He lifted his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and reset it on his head. “Will you be all right with them for a while? I have chores in the barn to finish up.”
“Of course.” She put out a hand when he started to go. “Just a minute. Tell me why the marshal sent us baked goods.”
Morgan shrugged. “My guess? To get Rabbit and Finn out of his hair on a Saturday morning.”
“He’s very clever, isn’t he?”
“That’s one word for it,” he said, stepping outside. “ ‘Devious’ would be another.”
