“Well.” Her eyes grew sad. “I reckon Oralee passed so suddenly they were waiting an appropriate time—plus, of course, they didn’t know what your plans were. That and the spate of blizzards that have everything out of whack.”
“Oh.”
He picked up the thin sheaf of papers and ran his thumb over the writing, noticing the coffee stain in the corner of the first page, yellow with age.
He didn’t know what to do, but when he sold,ifhe sold, he doubted the new owner was going to operate on handshakes with no signatures in sight. No sensible person would lend money on a verbal promise. Or keep making no-interest loans, for that matter.
Meanwhile, if he collected what was owed, he’d have a nice chunk of change to set up his new life with. His and Jack’s new life.
“So should I call them, or go out and see them?” he asked.
“I would call first,” she said. “Maybe later you can arrange a visit to introduce yourself, so they get to know who you are. Jack can drive you.” She looked at Jack, who was sitting across from Morgan, an empty mug in his hands. “Right, Jack?”
“Of course,” Jack said.
All this new information floated inside Morgan’s head like snowflakes swirling in a sudden wind: all the decisions, the possibilities. He’d not come to Hysham for this. He’d come to Hysham to leave it behind him. But if he did as he’d planned, the town would limp along till spring, and then, eventually, it would die.
“I’ll call them,” he said. “At least I can find how much is owed and what’s going on.”
“That’s a fine idea,” she said, smiling warmly at him, the way she’d always smiled at Jack. Then she turned to Jack and shook her finger at him. “Young man, I have told you not to have that dog at the table.”
Morgan turned to look at Jack, who indeed had Mister Rocket on his lap. Mister Rocket wagged his tail happily as Jack placed him gently on the floor.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Jack said, though his smile said he wasn’t really sorry. “He’s so darn cute it’s hard to say no to him.”
Mabel patted his arm and madetsk tsknoises under her breath, then turned her focus to Morgan once more. “If any of the folks on that list ask for confirmation about who you are, you tell them Mabel Milbourne will vouch for you.”
Morgan stood, clutching his cane, his throat suddenly tight, emotions running straight up from his chest. He felt hot in the coat he’d not taken off, thinking that they’d not stay very long.
In that warm kitchen, sunlight sparkling through the windows, the scent of hot chocolate in the air, it was very hard not to give in to the impulse to wrap his arms around her and thank her for not thinking he was an asshole.
“Well,” he said, swallowing hard, “if Jack will drive me home, I’ll get right on figuring all of this out.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Mabel said.
The drive home in the cold air was quick, with the sun bright against the cold blue sky. There were no clouds in sight, and the wind was a low, icy whisper across the frozen snow.
When Jack parked the truck at the feed and grain, Morgan sat in the passenger seat with the ledger in his lap for a moment. As soon as the heater went off, cold came through the floorboards.
The temperature would drop to zero as soon as the sun went down and then plummet to many degrees below that, the air reaching its coldest point in the wee hours of the morning. But he had plenty of time to do what he needed to do.
CHAPTER 35
morgan
As they ate a quick lunch of fried baloney sandwiches, Morgan knew he needed to think and to make some hard decisions. So, while Jack did the dishes, he got up from the table. “I’m going for a walk.”
“But it’s freezing,” Jack said.
“I just need some air,” Morgan said, unable to explain it any better than that.
“Everything okay?” Jack looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but he didn’t. Giving Morgan space and time, the way he always did.
Morgan thumped his way down the stairs and pulled on his galoshes and his coat, and wrapped a scarf around his neck. He borrowed Jack’s mostly unworn tuque and pulled it onto his head. By the time he’d taken up his cane and opened the front door, he felt overly warm.
That feeling vanished the second he stepped outside, and to his horror he realized that the way he wanted to go meant he had to walk into the wind.
He faced west and went across the parking lot, along the long line of the feed and grain. When he passed the corner of the building, the wind struck him hard. To his right was the long,slender shine of a pair of railroad tracks, and beyond that the high prairie rose and fell beneath the pale snow, stretching out to the horizon.
