Welcome to Sweetwater: The Library: Settling Down

©1998 by Philippa.

May not be copied without permission from the author.

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"You'll never make it work". The words echoed in his mind as he packed the last of his belongings in the old coffin. He look at the few memorials that he had placed in it. There weren't much, in fact he could easily fit them in a saddlebag. But the coffin had been his attempt to settle down, and although he now was doubtful of if he ever would find a place to settle down he still intended to keep it. The door swung slowly in the wind, but he didn't bother to try and close it. He was leaving this place, and he had no intention of ever returning. Why bother about the door? Sooner or later the old cottage would give in to the wind and the rain, and by then he would be long gone.

He let the lid of the coffin close with a slam that sounded eerily in the empty cottage. He really had tried this time, or at least he thought so. He lift the coffin up from the bed and carried it out to the wagon outside.

"Why did you have to be so right, Polly" he thought. He was about to climb the wagon when he hesitated. He looked down into the ground, and with a sigh he left the wagon and went over to the small hill and the lonely tree standing upon it. At the foot of the tree there was a grave with a simple wooden cross upon it. A small silver cross on a chain hanged from the cross. He removed his hat and looked at the grave. He hadn't intended to get married again that day for three years ago. He had saved an Indian chief from drowning and as a result he had been offered the Chief's daughter. Being around Indians long enough to be familiar with their customs, he had realised that if he turned the offer down, he wouldn't live long, so he had accepted. She had been beautiful, and for her sake he had build the cottage not far from her village. Then he had left to go out on various expeditions, acting as tracker, guide, hunter, spokesman for the army with various tribes and when short of cash even as bounty hunter, only to return to the cottage now and then.

Finally one winter he had realised that he longed to be back - to see his wife smile at him and to see the small changes she had done in the cottage. He had returned that winter and they had spent the cold months together, getting to know each other. He had given her the cross that spring - it wasn't much of a gift, but it was the only thing he had. She had loved it. Then he had made the coffin and decided that this was it. He was settling down. He was getting to old for the restless life anyhow. An old friend had persuaded him to accept an offer as an Indian agent, since he already had connections with the tribes in the area. Determined to make it work this time, in his sixth marriage he had accepted. But the job had left him heartbroken and frustrated, and now it had ended it disaster. Despite his efforts the tradesmen in town had failed to keep the meat supplies to the Indian, which had resulted in Indian raids upon the closest ranches. Both sides had eventually blamed him, and this was the result. He had survived the following fights, but Moon Shade had been killed by her own tribe, trying to save her home, no, their home. She wasn't supposed to die.

"Rest in peace, Moon Shade", he mumbled silently, and put his hat back on. "I doubt that I will."

He walked fast back to the wagon and climbed up. He urged the horses into a trot. Without looking back, Teaspoon, headed west, hoping to find peace beyond the wide prairies of Texas.

The sheriff's office in Choutau Landing looked more like an abandoned army shed than an office. The weapon shells where empty and one of the jail-doors hung loosely from it's hinges. The introduction of the Kansas-Nebraska Law, which abandoned the Missouri-compromise concerning the issue of slavery, had left Kansas open for internal battles between those supporting slavery and the abolitionists, and the sheriff's work had been harder and harder to uphold.

The office was empty except for an older man sitting in a chair behind the not so cleaned desk. His hat was placed over his head and he appeared to be deep in sleep.

"Damn it, Ed. I thought you had had that door fixed by now." The voice by the door made the man push his hat back on his head and look up.

"Why, Teaspoon? I can't see that there's any point in it, can you? The fools in this town stopped relying on the law a long time ago."

"That's no reason to stop upholding it."

"Why don't you put on this badge, if you're so damn interested." Ed's voice was bitter.

"Sorry, Ed. I know it hasn't been easy for you."

"Well, it hasn't been easy for any of us. Make you wish you were back among the Rangers, eh?"

"Some of the times, perhaps."

"Never thinking on returning?"

Teaspoon went over to the stove where a small coffee-pot was standing. He poured himself a mug of coffee and seated himself opposite the sheriff.

"No. Not much to go back to. I might go back if this thing escalates, though. What about you?"

"I've been thinking about it. Lillian wouldn't mind. You know she's got an aunt in Austin."

"I thought you enjoyed being sheriff."

"With this mess? You got to be joking." Then he turned serious. "If I leave, would you take over after me? I owe it to this town to get them a decent successor."

"You're serious about leaving?"

Ed went up and looked out of the window.

"We've been friends for along time, Teaspoon. You know that Lillian and I never managed to get any kids. Her aunt knows an orphanage in Austin. Those kids really need good homes, and if we went back..." He left the sentence unfinished. "You know how much Lillian has wanted a child", he said apologising.

"You don't have to explain, Ed. I know what you mean, although I've never thought of you as a family man."

"We're getting older, Teaspoon, we're not the same people that we used to be."

"When are you thinking about leaving?"

"In a couple of months. What about the job? Do you want it?"

"I've done my share of being a sheriff. Sorry, Ed, it's a nice offer but it's not for me."

"You've done a great job as my deputy."

"Temporary, to help you out."

"Temporary, my foot. You've been here for more than a year now."

"That's because you and Lillian have spoiled me. Lillian is a great cook."

"That's one reason why I married her", Ed smiled, then he turned serious again. "If we leave, where you're going?"

"Further west, I suppose."

Ed looked at his friend, and suddenly his face brightened.

"Well, then I think I got the solution for you. Do you know Alex Majors?"

"Don't think so, although I've heard about him. One of the founders of the stage line, isn't he?"

"Yes. He's here in Kansas and rumour has it that his partner Russell has a new idea for delivering mail over the mountains from St Joseph to Sacramento. I'm sure that you with your expertise you can help them out and, you'll get paid for your trip west."

"I doubt it. Now, let's get that door fixed in case we need the cell for the next days."

Teaspoon knocked on the door and uneasily stretched the tie around his neck. He couldn't understand why Lillian had insisted that he should dress up for dinner but he supposed he had her reasons. Ed had decided to leave the job and return to Texas and Lillian had been full of news of a boy at the orphanage that was in need of a new home. Teaspoon was happy for their sake. He had known Ed since they both joined the Texas Ranger in their early twenties, and he had been the best man at Ed's and Lillian's wedding

The door was opened and a smiling Lillian greeted him.

"Aloysius! You came. Step in, there's someone here I want you to meet."

"Hello, Lillian. What's all the fuss about?"

"You'll see. Edward is in the dining room with our guest. And an important guest," she added. "You go on inside, while I tend to the dinner. Now, go on!"

Teaspoon shook his head and entered the dining-room, where he found Ed and another man in his own age, well-dressed and what Lillian would have called "important-looking".

"Here he is." Ed rose from the chair when Teaspoon entered. " Teaspoon, meet Mr. Russell from the company of Russell, Majors & Waddell. This is the man I spoke to you about, Mr. Russell, Mr. 'Teaspoon' Hunter."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hunter. Your friend have told me some impressing things about you."

"He's exaggerating, Mr. Russell." Teaspoon shook hands with the businessman, when Lillian entered and declared that dinner was ready.

Teaspoon gave Ed an angry look, but despite what he had expected the dinner was as pleasant, and he found himself being interested in Mr. Russell's idea of an fast express route for mail over the mountains. He came with a few suggestions to some changes and Mr. Russell listened with interest. The discussions continued throughout the dinner and when the coffee was served, Ed came the suggestion.

"I'm sure the company could use your knowledge, Teaspoon. What do you think, Mr. Russell?"

"Are you in search of employment, Mr. Hunter?"

Teaspoon cleared his throat."Well, sort of. I'm thinking about heading west."

"We could use a man with your experience at the head office, Mr. Hunter." Mr. Russell settled back in the chair and lighted his cigar and looked expectantly at Teaspoon.

"That's a mighty generous offer, Mr. Russell, but I'm afraid I have to decline. Never been much for sitting behind a desk."

"Teaspoon!" Lillian protested.

"Please, Mrs. Darnton. I think Mr. Hunter is right. I doubt that he would appreciate a desk job. May I ask you a personal question, Mr. Hunter?"

"Go ahead."

"From what I gather you've been around long enough to gain experience in a variety of, well, different fields, and if I may be frank, sometimes balancing on the edge of the law."

Teaspoon frowned.

"In another company I might have taken that for an insult, Mr. Russell, but if honesty is the issue here, I'd say that it's a fair description."

"Thankyou, Mr. Hunter. Please, believe me when I say that I have no intention on insulting you, I'm merely gathering the facts. Now to my question - how would you describe 'moral'?"

"Moral?"

"Yes."

"Living by God's commandments and avoiding the seven deadly sins, I would say. Why do you ask?"

"Who do you think will make these rides?"

"I'd say men with some experience in their early twenties. Around twenty-five, perhaps."

Mr. Russell shook his head. "No. Do you know what we'll pay them?"

"No."

"Up to $100 a month. That means we can't afford to pay any money to families and widows if the rider fails to return. Most men around twenty-five has families to consider. I doubt that they would be interested in a dangerous job like this."

"What kind of riders were you thinking of?"

"The ones with no families, and eager enough to be searching for adventures. Boys in the late teens, preferably orphans."

Teaspoon scratched his chin.

"You're thinking about sending out boys on those rides? You realise that they'll be facing both hostile Indians and rogues looking for valuables? They won't stand a chance out there."

"That's why we need experienced station managers. Someone that can teach them how to survive. I'm prepared to offer you an employment as station manager, Mr. Hunter."

"Station manager, eh? Do you pay the station manager as much as you pay the riders?"

"I'm afraid not." Mr. Russell laughed softly. "But it is a well-paid job, I assure you."

Mr. Russell rose from the table. "I'm afraid it's getting late and I have to leave. Please think about my offer, Mr. Hunter. I'll be available at our office in town for the next few days if you decide to accept it."

"I'll think about it." Teaspoon rose and shook the other man's hand.

"Goodnight, Mr. and Mrs. Dranton. Thankyou for a delicious meal."

When Ed followed Mr. Russell to the door, Lillian turned to Teaspoon.

"Why don't you accept it, Aloysius. God knows you could need a place to settle down in."

"I wasn't cut out for settling down, Lillian."

"Rubbish, Aloysius. You're just afraid of being old, that's all."

"Morning, Mr. Hunter. Have you decided to accept the offer?" Mr. Russell greeted warmly Teaspoon to enter his office.

"Yes and no, Mr. Russell. I have a proposition for you."

"Let's hear it."

"You pay for my trip to this station in Wyoming and I'll train your young riders how to survive out there, but when that job's done, I have no obligations towards you or the company. How does that sound?"

Mr. Russell pondered the idea for a moment.

"I don't mind, Mr. Hunter", he said after a while, "but I think that we should leave the question of ending the employment open for now. If you find that you're unsatisfied with the job after three months, you're free to leave with one week's notice. Is that fair?"

"Fair enough. I think you've got yourself a station manager, at least for the first three months."

"Welcome to the company, Mr. Hunter."

When Teaspoon had left the office, with his assignment and the company rules in his pocket, Mr. Russell looked after him. He went out to his secretary.

"Sign up Mr. Aloysius Hunter as station manager at the Sweetwater Station."

"For how long, Mr. Russell?"

"Put down 'until further notice', Adam." He gazed out the window on the street outside.

" No, change that. Put down 'permanently'. I believe that will be more accurate."

A few weeks later a tired Teaspoon arrived at a small group of houses just outside Sweetwater. When he slowly approached the farm, he noticed that the place was well in order and neat. There where a large barn, obviously used both as barn and stable, a bunkhouse and between the bunkhouse and the barn a large shed. Apart stood a white large house with a small garden surrounding it. The main building, he thought and directed his horse over to it. He got off his horse and then he hesitated. He'd been travelling for some time, and he wasn't exactly looking his best. Before he could decide whether he should wash up or not, the door opened and a woman stepped out on the porch, holding a rifle.

Emma watched as the man approached the house. She had been living alone now for some time, and when she realised that the man obviously decided to get off his horse, she reached for the rifle that hung in the hall, always loaded. Suddenly she was glad that Sam had insisted on that precaution. She decided to take the bull by the horn and opened the door and went out.

Teaspoon cleared his throat and looked the woman over. She was younger than he had expected and the firm chin suggested that she had a strong will and a mind of her own. The way she carried the rifle also suggested that she know how to use it. To show that he didn't intended any harm he rose his hands from his sides.

"Mrs. Shannon? he asked. "I'm Mr. Hunter, from Russell, Majors & Waddell. I'm supposed to be the new station manager here."

Emma lowered the rifle, and looked on the man again. He certainly didn't look like a station manager, but then she wasn't sure how a station manager should look like. What she saw was an older man, unshaven with his grizzled hair hanging down to his shoulders. He had a peculiar face, and seemed to have a constant wink in one eye. His teeth which showed when he smiled where slightly crooked and added to his odd looks. But he had an open smile and she found herself beginning to like this man. She smiled back at him.

"Welcome then, Mr. Hunter. I'm sorry for the rifle, but being out here on my own."

"No apologies needed, Ma'm. I do understand. Better to take no risks."

"Exactly my thought, Mr. Hunter. Can I offer you some coffee?"

"Well..." Teaspoon looked with interest at the woman. She must be in around thirty something with a special beauty. Her appearance indicated a woman of strong self-control yet her smile show warmth and compassion. He had expected her to comment on his appearance, but not one word had been said. Instead she had invited him in as he were. Still, he really needed to wash up. " I would appreciate if there's a bucket of cold water somewhere, Mrs. Shannon."

"Over in the stable you'll find what you need Mr. Hunter. I'll start on the coffee."

"Thankyou."

They were still drinking the coffee the sound of a horse indicated another visitor. Teaspoon rose when he saw the man approaching and he noticed the star on his jacket. The marshal looked at him with suspicion.

"Sam, come here and meet the station manager, Mr. Hunter. Mr. Hunter, this is the Marshal of Sweetwater, Sam Cain. The two men shook hands.

"I just thought I'd check on you Emma", Sam said. Teaspoon smiled when he saw the look. I believe the Marshal has a special interest in Mrs. Shannon, he thought to himself. That was good. Running this farm wasn't a job for a single woman.

"Are you staying, Sam?"

"Nope, I'm afraid I can't. There's been some trouble over at the saloon the last two nights so I better be there. You gonna be okay, Emma?"

"Yes." Emma followed him to the horse. Sam sat up, but before he left he softly said:

"You're sure he's the station manager?"

"Yes. He had all the papers. Don't worry, Sam. I'm gonna be all right."

Sam nodded and headed his horse back to town.

"Let me show you the premises, Mr. Hunter." Emma pushed the coffee cup from her.

"I'd like that Mrs. Shannon. And it's Teaspoon. I think it will be easier that way."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Hunter. And my name's Emma." She frowned. "Teaspoon?"

"It's a long story," he admitted.

"I'll look forward to hear it some day, Mr. Hunter."

"Teaspoon."

"Teaspoon."

They walked around the farm checking the stables and the bunkhouse.

"I suppose you'll sleep in the bunkhouse", Emma said as they inspected the building. Teaspoon looked around, and through the window his eye fell on the large shed.

"What's that?"

"What? Oh, that. My husband built it as a tool-shed, but it hasn't been used."

"I think I prefer that, if you don't mind."

"Not at all. Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'll think that will suit me perfectly."

"You're a strange man, Mr. 'Spoon."

"I've heard people say that."

A few weeks later the farm had more and more taking on the look of a way station for the Pony Express. Teaspoon had got some help from the town, and especially the marshal had been helpful, but whether it was because that meant he could see Emma more often or because he wanted to help, was something Teaspoon wasn't sure of.

He stood by the corral looking at the new horses when Emma returned from town.

"Well, Mr. Spoon, I believe we're ready for the riders now."

"I believe so, Emma. I guess this is as good as it will be."

"Don't say that. You've done a great job here, Teaspoon."

He smiled at her and helped her to carry the supplies into the house. Afterwards he returned to his shed, which now was simply furnished in a style that suited him perfectly. When he entered, his eyes fell on his gun that hung from a hook near the door. Thoughtful he took it down and looked at it. He hadn't had it on for weeks now. Suddenly he made up his mind and brought out the old coffin, opened the lid and placed the gun inside. In doing that his eyes fell on the a business card with the address to where he was supposed to send his resignation. Without hesitation he took it and placed it in the fire. For once you've been wrong, Polly, he thought. Now he had settled down.