PART 1
Well, here it is!! The finished product!! I just want to say now, before you read it, that it's not going to be like ultra-ultra-epic. I try to look at it as being Part 2 of a yet unfinished series. Anyway, for those of you who have been waiting for what must seem like years and YEARS, I apologize…but as everyone can probably tell by now, it takes me a loooong time to do things. If all of you could have seen me the nights I would write and rewrite things, totally unhappy with some parts…and then everything would be perfect. And I guess that's why it's taken me so long - I wanted this to be a very solid and fun story. I'd like to thank those of you who helped me by reading the pre-finished copy (or copies as it were…*grin*) and made suggestions. I'd also like to give a great big thanks to Lindsey for patiently waiting for the story, and then liking it as much as she did. =) Once again folks, I know it took a while - BELIEVE me do I know how long this thing took! But I really hope you think it was worth the wait - I do =)!! ~Liz
The picture stood on the table as though it was watching Jo. As she carried down her last traveling bag, she was about to settle back and look on in satisfaction when she got that feeling. That sometimes-scary, always-annoying, and endlessly-nagging feeling. She was forgetting something. As she turned around slowly in the hallway, retracing her steps from earlier that morning, there was a gentle knock on the door…as it opened. "Mornin'!" called the voice of one of the few select men who, over the years, had the privilege of being able to walk through that door anytime they pleased.
"Jo?" Nick said with that always adorable 'I love you but right now you're so insane you're scaring me' look.
"I'm thinking…" she trailed off, and began patting her pockets.
"Well, I got the tickets," Nick grinned, "And the train's gonna be leavin'-"
"Aha!" Jo cried out triumphantly, holding up a folded sheet of paper, "Franz's letter!" With a slightly devilish look, she handed it to Nick. "Here, you read it."
"Jo," Nick said, "I can actually read now. Ya don't need to force me into practicin' or learnin'." She threw him a look, warning him not to ruin her fun. "Alright," he sigh, "Dear Nick and Aunt Jo, Glad to hear about your visit. We might not be able to go with you to see Dan though, seeing as Isabel is due any day now."
"Wow," Jo said thoughtfully, "I'll be a…great-aunt. Doesn't that make me…really old or something?"
"Jo-"
"Well I don't really feel old…"
"Look! It says here what they decided to name the baby!"
"What?! Did they choose the first name or the second?"
"I dunno," Nick said with a grin, folding the paper in half.
"Nick Riley!" Jo yelled as she playfully chased him around the house. She finally caught him in the kitchen, and pried away the letter. "Liar! It doesn't say one word in here about names!" she said.
"Yeah, but 'least we proved you ain't so old after all," Nick grinned, rubbing his arm, "Some grip ya got there great-aunt…"
"Bess!" Nat called out loudly, knocking on the door, "Bess, we're going to miss our train!"
"Coming!" came a muffled voice. Soon after, the door seemed to just fall open.
"Bess?" Nat called, carefully walking around the different piles of things. Books in one corner, pictures in another, the desk covered with odds and ends, and of course the clothes all over the floor. "You know Bess, I'd never have imagined in a million years that you would be so…messy. Nan, of course…but you? Bess, are you even in there?"
"I'm here!" came the voice…soon followed by a face as she popped out of the only other room in her modest 'apartment.' "Did you get our assignments?" Nat gave her an uncomfortable look. "What's the matter? We can't take time off? Did one of us get fired? NAT?!"
"Okay, okay!" he grinned, "I got them." She gave him a playful shove and shook her head. "I get to write a feature about what Christmas will be like in the coming century."
"And….and?" Bess prompted him.
"And Jerry told me to tell you that if you want to get married, call him up, because he'll be quite willing…along with every other guy at the office…hmm…," Nat grinned again. After a *very* meaningful glare from Bess, he cleared his throat and said, "They want you to get some good shots of the 'great west'…you know, feature articles can use them…stuff like that." Bess nodded, and pulled about four suitcases towards the door. "Bess, what are those?" Nat asked, pointing.
"Oh those? Those are just my things," Bess said, trying to fix her hat in the mirror.
"Bess, we talked about this," Nat sigh, "I'll let you take three…but ONLY three." Bess gave him a pouting look in the mirror but then rolled her eyes in consent. "How can you even find anything to pack in those cases?" he chuckled, coming up behind Bess. He gently took the hat and pin out of her hands and put it up for her. Afterwards they simply stood, staring at each other in the mirror. "Nervous?" Nat finally asked.
"Me? No…no…you?"
"Not nervous," Nat said, "Worried." Bess gave him a sweetly caring smile and turned around.
"It'll be fine. It'll be better than fine…all right?" she said, smoothing his jacket. He gave her a skeptical look telling her that he didn't believe her for a minute and motioned towards the door.
"Come on, we don't want to be late for the most…interesting…reunion of the year, do we?" Nat asked, holding out his arm to Bess. "We certainly don't," she said in a sure voice, taking his arm. As the two reached the door, they both turned around to view the chaotic room before them…and then shared a look, which turned into laughter as they closed the door behind them.
Nan looked up at the window as she paced back and forth. She smoothed her new dress - something that the 'Plumbfield crew' would have been surprised to see her in. Deep green with a full skirt and a stylish top, she was the picture of someone prominent and successful…err…'the wife of someone prominent and successful these days,' she thought with a sigh. The words of her father rang in her ears, "Women can't be successful on their own! They must have a successful husband in order to be successful." Little did the people on the street know that this woman was different. 'You, a doctor?!' she had heard often enough. And once the shock of that was surpassed, the shock of her being a single female doctor was simply too much.
"Missy, you been walkin' past my window 'bout near close to an hour now. You fixin' on buyin' a ticket ever?" the man in the window said with a twinkle in his eye.
Nan gave him an apologetic look and, walking up to the window said, "Of course, I'm sorry. I'll take two tickets for Denver. One. No two. No. One. Two. One. Two?" She stopped in dismay.
"Or maybe you won't be buyin' a ticket?" the man chuckled. Nan looked at him closely. He seemed nice enough. Good listener…hmm…
"Well you see, I'm supposed to meet my family for Christmas," she began. As the man nodded, she went on, "Well, I'm kinda nervous, so I was thinking about maybe brining a friend from school. But I don't know if I'd like to drag someone else into this…or whether it would just be better to handle it on my own or…or…" She looked again in dismay at the ticket man who was now beginning to give her a very odd look. "Two," she said, "I'll take two."
"Mornin' Sheriff!" a blond-haired, blue-eyed woman greeted Dan.
"Hey Anna," he said with a grin.
"What're you tryin' to do? Buy out the store? You been in here last three days!"
"I know, it's just that I keep forgettin' stuff," Dan said, taking off his hat and running his hand through his hair.
"Let me guess…this time it's pork?"
"Naw," he chuckled, "Candles." Anna nodded with a smile and began to wrap some.
"Oh, Reverend Bishop was in here early this mornin'. Asked me to tell ya that he wants to talk to ya next time you go out that way," she said, trying to act casual. Yet there seemed to be some undercurrent of apprehension. Dan's brow furrowed.
"Somethin' happen?"
"Johnson's boy was found yesterday mornin' down 'bout a mile from their house…"
"Was he hurt?"
"Well…he did have a slew of cuts and bruises…"
"Who? Who was it this time?"
"Now Sheriff, they ain't sayin' nothin'…they don't want no trouble…and you best be puttin' all notions of blame outta your mind," she said, handing him the candles.
"Yeah? Well I'd be real interested in knowin' where Dave Foggs was the night of the attack," Dan said.
"What attack?" a voice boomed. David Foggs. Medium build, slightly middle-aged man with light hair and eyes…he looked normal enough on the outside…like any neighbor. Yet Dan was one of the few people in town who was willing to admit in public that there was something very wrong with David Foggs.
"There was another beatin'. Johnson boy again," Dan said, looking Foggs in the eye.
"That's a real shame sheriff," he said. The look on his face appeared to be serious, but Dan could almost swear that he saw a sadistic grin hidden behind his solemn face. "But sheriff," he went on, "I've got more important things to discuss with you. Sheriff, now I'm not one to get hostile-" Dan suppressed a snicker. "But Sheriff, I just can't keep my mouth shut anymore. Sheriff, them slaves just bought the old Coalster property!"
Dan tried to share a look with Anna, but she had retreated to the other end of the store, and had her head down. "Foggs," he said, also trying to suppress a grin now as well, "they ain't slaves no more - they're free. And it's time folks like you start treatin' them that way! Now if that's all, I'll see ya later." Dan put his hat back on his head and tried not to storm out of the store. He quickly got on his horse and rode out of the modest town. About a mile or so past the edge of town there was a cluster of buildings. Small, poor homes in one corner and a school in another. The only thing they didn't have was a store…they'd do their shopping once a month, early in the morning before the rest of the townsfolk arrived.
Anna didn't mind them at all - personally. Dan cringed every time he heard that word. Just because someone felt a certain way personally didn't necessarily mean that they would act on their beliefs - if he had learned one thing over the last year, he had learned that. Anna had explained to him countless times how it just wasn't right for "folks like them to be mixin' with folks like us all day long." It "wasn't personal," she had said. They, sadly enough, were the African-American residents of the town. Ever since he had arrived, Dan had always wondered at their seclusion. They lived in a small sector all their own, and no one ever said a word about it - good or bad. It was just "the way things were." But men like Foggs got angry enough every time any of them stepped out of their invisible boundary.
"Mornin' Sheriff!" he heard called out to him from a few different areas as he road into their small 'town.' He nodded his head and smiled - "Sheriff." He still couldn't get used to that word. It had been sheer luck that he'd gotten the job. He'd been living in the town only for a few months when the current sheriff decided to head farther out west to search for gold. The town had been in dismay about where they'd get a new sheriff from - for one was certainly in need. Dan hadn't really volunteered…some people in the town, mostly lead by Anna and a few others, pressed for it. He'd only helped out a few families since he'd gotten there…nothing really. Yet they made it sound like Dan had done so many heroic acts. It finally came down to Dan and David Foggs. There'd been a vote, and Dan had just barely won.
He stopped outside of the Bishop's home and tied up his horse. Simon Bishop was the preacher of their African-American church - Dan had been told that everyone wanted two separate churches…yet he often returned such comments with, "even God?" Simon had what some jokingly considered the 'largest family in town.' His mother lived with him and his wife, and his four children also lived close by. His daughter Rose lived with her husband, Sam Johnson, making her son the boy who had been beaten. Bishop's other three sons lived down the street with their wives and children as well.
Dan took off his hat and smoothed back his hair as he knocked on the door. An older woman answered the door with a smile. "Sheriff! Why what brings you here?" she smiled, a little nervous.
"Need to talk to Simon," he said simply.
"Well, he's…away at the moment, but I'm sure he'll be back any minute. Why don't ya come in an' have some tea with Mamma? She's been achin' to see ya," she grinned.
"Thanks Mrs. Bishop," he said with a smile. 'Mamma' was the elderly mother of Mr. Bishop. Revered in the small 'town' as a twenty-four hour advice giver, she seemed to Dan one of the wisest women he'd ever met. "Mornin' Mrs. Bishop," he said with a grin.
"Boy! I told ya to call me Ruth 'stead 'a Mrs. Bishop," she coughed, but with a smile, "Got too many Mrs. Bishop's runnin' around already. How you been?"
"Good, real good," he said, sitting across from her. He always found it ironic how such a small woman could be so great. When she sat there in her rocking chair, she looked as though she were being swallowed by it. She seemed so weak…and that's exactly what Dan had thought the first time he'd met her…how he treated her too. Yet he quickly came to realize that this woman's strength was far greater than he imagined.
"Yer family, they be comin' soon?"
"Yeah, day after tomorrow," he said, unable to hide his smile.
"Let me see…there's the girl…what's her name? The one you been gettin' letters from all these months…and yer other friends…and that woman…"
"Mrs. Jo?"
"Yes! That's the one. You promised you'd bring her on by," warned Ruth.
"Yeah, I know, and I will," Dan said with a grin. Suddenly, the door opened and a gust of cold wind entered…along with Simon.
"Sheriff," he said with a nod, "Perhaps we could speak outside."
"Son, you talk nice now," Ruth commanded in her strong voice, but Dan saw the twinkle in her eye. The two walked outside together, but Dan lagged behind as Bishop moved towards the railing, overlooking the vast white prairie.
"I assume you heard," he said in his quiet manner.
"How's Rose?" Dan asked in reply. Dan especially knew the tragedy Rose, Simon's daughter, suffered every time her son got hurt, yet again.
"She's doin' fine," was all he said, but Dan knew that that wasn't the whole truth.
"Reverend, ya gotta do somethin' about this," Dan insisted, "I mean, this just can't-"
"Dan, we had this conversation," Bishop interrupted, "Now son, you're a good Sheriff, and you been a good friend to my family, but there ain't nothin' you can do. I won't make a fool of myself and try and tell you that things are better this way, but the plain and simple truth Dan is that things are this way. And there ain't nothin' we can do about it." He walked over to where Dan, with a look of defeat on his face, was standing. "I thank you," he said, putting a hand on Dan's shoulder, "for everythin' you've done for us. And I dunno if Mamma invited you yet, but you're welcome to use our hall for your weddin'. I know it ain't much…but-"
"It's great," Dan said, and Bishop could tell how much he meant it.
"Anyway, you and your family are also invited to our New Year's festival," Bishop said, opening the door, "And you be sure and bring some of them 'round to see us."
"Course," Dan said. He wanted to say more…but as the door shut he knew that Bishop wouldn't have given him the chance. He once again ran a hand through his hair, vowing silently to himself that he'd 'lost the battle but not the war.' As he got on his horse and rode back to town his mind turned to other things…namely the company that would be arriving in just two days…
PART 2
