[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 8-7-07

 

Bonnie and Sarah, Duzy and Esther were walking back home after the trial. While Duzy and Esther were talking amongst themselves, Bonnie was deep in thought. Her suspicians were obviously correct in thinking Slade had something to do with the forclosure of the boarding house, but it was obviously logical to assume he could not have done it alone. Afterall, the morgage was held by the bank.

"Excuse me for interupting, but do you two mind if I think out loud?"

Duzy responed, "Go right ahead! What are you so deep in thought about?"

Bonnie told them what she had been thinking, and added,"but that doesn't solve the issue of the laudanum, or the contract made, supposedly by Sam and myself. I am wondering who should I talk to about this? And while I am on the subject, I do not feel comfortable taking the $200 given to Sarah to the bank! What 'if' the bank had some kind of maniacal efforts with removing the boarding house from me? Who's to say they will not take Sarah's interest seriously?"

At that moment, the three heard loud talking coming from the open doorway at the hotel as they were getting ready to pass the opening. Esther thrusts out her arm to stop the two younger women, and plants her feet firmly.

"Donald! What on are earth is going on? I am embarrassed to death, and so completely ashamed! What are people going to say? I have a Quilting Bee to go to this afternoon, and I am to embarrased to go? "

"Marie, it isn't what you think!", Donald was groveling at trying to explain his conduct of the previous night to his wife.

"But Donald! You were drunk! AGAIN! You were in jail, for Pete's sake! You and ... and that ... Brothel owner, were tied 'together' in a jail cell! And to top it off, what on earth does S.C.O.L.D. mean?"

"What are you talking about, Marie?"

"Those are the letters that are written on your back! In some harlots red lipstick, no doubt! Oh Donald ....."

At that time Esther decided to take her footsteps moving forward again. As Duzy and Bonnie just looked at each other with some confusemnet on their faces, Esther smiled and giggled.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 8-7-07

 

Duzy awoke, before daylight, feeling anesthetized, emotionally exhausted, not knowing which way to turn, as she tried to understand her feelings. The conflicting views of her life were new to her, as she usually knew exactly what she wanted and how to go about getting there. Now, she felt trapped inside her own body, fighting the rage that had started to consume her. She felt that she had to get outside, take Edi out for a fast gallop, and try to clear her head to get some focus.

The dinner had gone wonderfully. She was happy to have Bonnie, Sarah and Tilly there, and was thrilled to see her Aunt Esther walking with a new vigor in her step and a twinkle in her eyes. She had new friends. She had so many reasons to be happy and grateful, so why wasn’t she excited, why did she not feel the happiness that she should be feeling? What was wrong with her? What had the Reverend been trying to tell her? And the wink, what was that all about? Was it assurance that he understood? How could he know how she was feeling? Did he understand how it felt to have good and evil fighting for prominence in his own life, not just from the teachings of his faith?

Duzy wanted to lash out, to get back at those who had hurt her, to show them that they had no right to treat her or anyone in such a way, and to take their power for thinking that they could! She fought hard with her conscious on how to handle the situation. Should she be looking for property in Firelands to build new buildings, of her own design, and forgive those who had wronged her, knowing if she did, she would still have to watch her back at all times? Or should she let go of the rage she felt by destroying the people who had made it their business to bring her down, reveling in the fact that they had not beaten her, nor could they take her spirit from her, leaving her feeling dead inside.

Duzy heard the others start to stir and realized she had missed some of the night’s conversation, perhaps while she was outside with Mr. Wallace and the Reverend. It seemed the trial against Mr. Keller and the counter suit of Duke Slade was to be today, and Bonnie was going to testify. Aunt Esther was already making plans to go. This should be interesting, Duzy thought, as she and the other ladies left to go to watch the proceedings.

Duzy watched in amazement as Duke Slade was escorted out of the room to go to prison for life. She felt some of the rage inside her dissipate as she watched him get the justice he deserved. Would the others get their due as well, without Duzy having to take revenge herself? Then, she remembered that wink again! Was he simply trying to let her know that “God does work in mysterious ways….”? She decided at that moment to do as he had said, to think hard on her decision and then do it with all of her heart. She would let go of the bitterness, and look toward the future with a renewed sense of pride in whatever she decided.

It was time to start planning the new businesses that were to be built for the ladies and gentlemen of Firelands!

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-7-07

 

The steady buzz of voices in the courtroom silenced abruptly with the gavel's sharp rap. Court was still a novelty; it was theater, entertainment, a source of gossip and conjecture, but it was still the Law.
There were formal trappings, an agenda, and fine language; from the fine tenor throat declaring "All rise," to the Judge's measured pace as he stepped behind the desk, elevated one step on the low podium, to the ceremonial rap of the turned cherry gavel.
"All persons with business before this honorable Court will draw near and give their attention! The Honorable David Hostetler presiding! God bless the United States and this honorable court!"
His Honor David Hostetler, late Colonel Hostetler of the US Cavalry, examined the papers before him. "We seem to have a light docket today," he declared, "no doubt the result of clean living and decent people. We'll take the lesser of two evils first, a criminal complaint against one Linn Keller, defendant. Is the defendant present?"
"Yes, Your Honor." The deputy stood, hat in hand.
"Says here you did commit an assault upon the person of one Attorney Slade, that you did do grievous harm and that you did so with deliberation and malicious intent."
"Yes, Your Honor, that's exactly what it says."
"Please take the stand."
Linn unbuckled his gunbelt, wrapped the belt around the slim holster and placed it on the table before him. He strode to the witness stand, executed a crisp military left-face as the clerk approached, Bible in hand.
"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"
"I do."
"Please be seated."
Slade was already uncomfortable. Even seasoned lawmen, upon being sworn in, often look uncomfortable when assuming the witness chair. This fellow, he thought, is perfectly at home here. Slade looked over at the defendant's table. The Sheriff and a young fellow he'd never seen before sat there. The young man wore a well-tailored suit and townie shoes, well polished; his hair was immaculate, his spectacles clean, and his hands were clean and almost delicate.
"Mr. Keller, did you commit the crimes listed on the complaint?"
"I did."
Again Slade was taken aback. He was expecting obfusication, hesitancy, a stammered explanation. Again looking at the new face at the defense table, he lapsed mentally and simply asked, "Why?"
"Mr. Slade, how tall are you?"
Slade blinked. The witness does not question counsel, he thought, but there was authority in the man's voice and he automatically responded: "Why, ah, six feet one inch, but I don't see--"
"And how much do you weigh, sir?" the deputy interrupted.
"Ah, why, ah, two hundred sixty --" Slade stopped, got his mental feet under him. "Your Honor, I object!"
"I'll allow it," Judge Hostetler said quietly. "Continue, Mr. Keller."
"Mr. Slade, you have the look of someone who has done honest work in his lifetime. I'd say you know the feel of a hay fork, probably from your younger days."
This piqued the interest of the courtroom audience, all of whom were or at least had been working men. A hand without calluses was a rare exception, and all were interested in the direction this conversation was headed.
"Why, ah, yes, I did, I grew up on a farm."
"And you're still a pretty strong fellow, if I'm any judge," the deputy continued.
"I suppose so, yes."
"Miz Bonnie, would you stand, please?" The deputy rose and so did Miz Bonnie.
"Miz Bonnie, could you hold your arm out, to the side, like so, please? Thank you." Linn looked at Slade. "Mr. Slade, if you'll look at the lady, you'll see that I could probably encircle her wrist with my hand and touch my thumb and finger easily."
Slade fell the floor drop out from under him.
"Mr. Slade, you seized this poor woman by the arm, and you were addressing her in a manner which I have come to associate with imminent physical harm. In my capacity as a law enforcement officer I have come to recognize the need for prevention whenever possible, and in my professional opinion you were engaged in criminal assault. You were directed by the lady to release your hold on her arm and you failed to do so -- indeed, you began pulling her by her arm. Is that not true, sir?"
"I -- I --" Slade was completely off balance now. A night of worry, drink, then a confused memory and waking, bound, in a jail cell, in something of a compromising position -- and now this --
"Your Honor, I object!"
"Object to what, Mr. Slade?" the judge replied. "You are the complainant as well as the counsel for prosecution. That alone is an unusual condition. I must make allowances, sir, and I must direct you to answer the question."
"Mr. Slade, did you or did you not unlawfully seize this woman by her arm, did you or did you not sully her reputation with your comments, and did you or did you not fail to release her when directed to do so?"
"I - I --" Slade took a step backward.
"Mr. Slade, you are a coward and you are a bully. You are a grown man who has to pick on a defenseless woman, but not until after you engage in conspiracy to conduct an unlawful foreclosure on her property. You are not satisfied with that, sir, you felt the need to seize her person and --"
"Coward?" Slade shouted. "You call me a coward? I will have satisfaction!"
"I accept!" the deputy shouted. "As the challenged party I have the choice of time and of place and weapons. I choose now and I choose here and I choose knives!"
"Your Honor!"
"Mr. Slade, you have just issued a challenge before this Court and before these witnesses assembled. Seems to me you can either accept the challenge, or you can withdraw your charges."
The courtroom held its breath.
"I withdraw," Slade said in a small voice.
"I'm sorry, sir, what was that?" the judge asked politely.
Slade's face was flaming with humiliation. "I withdraw the charges!"
"Thank you, sir. Case dismissed. The witness may step down." The gavel rapped the desk smartly.
The deputy stood, took two steps.
Slade turned, nickle plated Owl Head in hand. "I'll kill you!"

"Linn!" Esther shouted.
I knew what was happening.
I spun and took a long step toward Slade.
He had his Owl Head out and pointing at me.
I seized it in both hands, the web of my right under its barrel forcing it up, my left hard over the cylinder, and I stripped it down, out of his grip, and stepped back with my right leg, bringing his own gun to bear on him.
If one were paying very close attention they might have seen exactly how I did it, but most of the courtroom had only a general focus on the situation, and even the sheriff was surprised at the change of events.
Judge Hostetler was not one to excite easily. He picked up the second complaint. "In the matter of the people vs. Duke Slade, we have two counts of attempted murder, two counts of conspiracy, two counts of conspiracy to commit murder or grievous bodily harm, and two counts of assault on a law enforcement officer." The Judge put down the complaint. "Mr. Slade, do you wish to enter a plea, or shall I take your actions just now as an admission of guilt?"
Slade saw his world crumble and fall away like a handful of sand from between his fingers. The beefy red of his face turned kind of a pale mottled shade and he turned, like an old man, and I lowered his pistol to my side, not taking my attention off him.
"Guilty," he said hoarsely.
"Duke Slade, I find you guilty on all counts. For the crime of attempting the murder of a law enforcement officer, I sentence you to the remainder of your natural life in the Territorial Prison. I don't believe it necessary to address the other charges." BANG went the gavel. Slade jumped at its sound: for his life, it was the crack of doom.
I laid the Owl Head on the table in front of the Sheriff, picked up my gun belt and wrapped it around me.
"If there is any further business to be brought before this honorable Court, speak now."
Silence.
BANG went the gavel. "Court is adjourned!"
The Sheriff shook my hand. "Nice going, son," he smiled. "By the way, this-here is your lawyer, Michael Moulton. He just got into town this morning."
"Good morning, Counselor," I greeted him. His grip was firm, despite his lack of calluses.
"Easiest fee I ever earned," Moulton said. "I do admire the way you handled yourself, Deputy."
"You earned your fee even though you never spoke a word. I'm glad you're here, and welcome to Firelands!"
"Did you really punch him?"
"I did, and if you'll excuse me I need to take him over to the jail."
"Of course."
I turned. Slade was just standing there with the same expression as the men I'd hanged, just before I gave the order to kick the plank out from under them.
I felt half sick.
I walked over to Slade. "Come with me, Duke," I said quietly, and we walked out of the courtroom.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Charlie MacNeil 8-7-07

 

It was Charlie's turn to sit in the shadows. He'd finished his own dinner and rounded up some for Dawg then gone back to Sam's for one more beer before finding a soft spot in the hay of the livery stable. The night air was cool and a number of the men from inside the saloon had stepped outside for some fresh air. Charlie was tipped back in a chair against the wall of the saloon, sitting quietly, and the men didn't notice him there.

One of the men began to talk about what he'd like to do to a certain Duzy, who had apparently come to town and caused quite a stir. Charlie quietly let his chair down on all fours and was lifting himself to his feet when a big man with a deputy's star on his chest stepped up onto the boardwalk and proceeded to take the man down in a most efficient manner.

The deputy carried the man into the bar one-handed and Charlie followed, hanging back. It wasn't long before the man was scurrying from the saloon and there was the sound of hoofbeats in the night. This town was starting to get interesting, and Charlie could feel the old stirring. He tended to get upset when folks tried to take advantage of those less fortunate than themselves, and it was looking like something was going on in Firelands.

Charlie stepped outside and strolled toward the livery stable. He looked in on Buck, who stood quietly munching hay. Near the back of the stall, Dawg lifted his head and woofed quietly. Charlie bent and scratched the big dog behind his ears. "Looks like we may be here longer than I figured, Dawg," he said. "We'll have to see."

Charlie took his bedroll and climbed to the barn loft. A door at the rear of the loft for bringing in hay was open and Charlie walked to it and looked out in time to see a mule, loaded with what looked like two bodies, go silently past. The man who was leading the mule brought him to a halt near the back of a stoutly built brick building. The man untied the two bodies and carried them one at a time into the building then led the mule off into the dark.

Charlie shook his head and unrolled his bed. "I reckon I can find out what that was about a lot easier in the morning than I can tonight," he said quietly to himself. He unbuckled his gunbelt and lay it at the head of his bed, sat down and pulled off his boots, then lay back with a sigh. He was soon asleep.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Kid Sopris 8-7-07

 

 

In the darkness of life, not everything is as it appears. The stately image of a reverend man sitting by a home fire late at night where others can see, provides the cornerstone of explanation as to nightly activities.

Deputy Keller was hard at work, that's good thought the stealthy image, keeps everyone focused. When Higgins left Sam's that night, he did so under a full stomach of barley and grain. His balance less than perfect and his vision distorted.

"Whose there?" Higgins called out. The rustling of the leaves in the night breeze plays tricks on a man at times, especially an inebriated man. The cloth containing the sleeping gaseous liquid was pressed tightly against Higgin's nose and silence fell quickly. A pack mule was all that was needed.

Mr. Slade, was suffering from previous encounters with destiny was once again dealing with pain and the over abundance of medication. The stealthy figure with pack mule in tow and cloth shod hoofs made their quiet movements undetectable. Slade was no less of a threat and was as easily overcome by the sleeping gas as the first subject. Both men from the towns "Devil Brigade" needed to be brought before their Makers eyes and to the attention of the towns folk.

When morning came about the town was bustling awaiting the start of circuit court. Mrs. Higgin's was scurrying about looking for her husband; this was not the first time he didn't come home after a night of drinking, carousing and cavorting with other undesirables. She was at her limit of understanding.

The preacher awakening to the gentle sounds of the morning birds, a nice breeze and a fresh cup of coffee, saw Mrs. Higgins en-route to the jail.

The jail had gained two inhabitants in the stealthy night time. Both still unconscious and sleeping and neatly tied and bundled together in the same bunk. It was reported later to the preacher, "The two villains looked kinda cute together in bed." Sopris only raised his left eyebrow in hearing of this.

Sopris only comment was, "Seems odd that two birds of the same feather would sleep together". It did however provide and excellent subject for the next Sunday Service.

"Sleeping with Man"

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 8-7-07

 

Putting Sarah to bed that night was a little taxing. She was wired up tight with excitement, but alas, the Fairy Godmothers sleeping dust won.

The dishes were washed, dried and put away, and all was in good order. The four women sitting by the night times fire, relishing in the last of the warm and inviting embers before, they too, would be departing for bed.

"Bonnie Dear?"

"Yes, Esther"

"You have not spoken a great deal about your Mother and sister, but I know their loss is still a difficult one for you ... for that I am deeply sorry."

Before Bonnie could respond, Esther held her hand in the air to ward off comments, as she had more to say. "I also know that directly after their deaths, the boarding house was forclosed .... but, Bonnie, what I do not understand, is what transpired with ... that to lead you to .... well ..."

Tilly interupted, "Ms. Esther, Bonnie came to Sams in a druged state. At first we were afraid she had the Typhoid like her kin did, but the Doc told us she did't aile from that."

Bonnie so quietly at first, then louder as she finished the comment, "I was striken with sorrow after Mama and Margaret died, but I know for a fact I did not take laudanum! I know it as sure as I am sitting here."

It was quiet for a long moment. Duzy, with a soft voice, "then, Bonnie, how did the drugging happen?"

"I have no idea." And with that, Bonnie wept.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-6-07

 

A man learns hard lessons in this lifetime. War, and years as a badge packer, taught me that a man must divide his mind into compartments, and shine the light of attention into each compartment in its turn. Much as I would love to have stayed and enjoyed the company of the ladies, it was time to move on, in thought and in deed.
We took our leave of the pleasant evening -- and a more pleasant evening I have not had in long years! -- I saddled Sam, and fed him a wad of chawing tobacker, and rubbed him behind his big velvety ears.
"Sam, old friend," I murmured, "all that evil needs to grow is for good men to do nothing. And I don't aim that it should grow."
Sam savored the molasses flavored leaf and grunted.
I hauled myself into the saddle. It was less and less of a chore these days, as I healed from being belted with a mattock handle, and hadn't had a nauseating attack of dizziness for some time: this, I thought, is a good thing.
Sam stepped out for town. The night was cool, the air pleasant; we rode a couple circles around the ladies' homestead, spiraling out, Sam surprisingly silent. For such a huge mount, he was equally stealthy, and could move like a passing cloud if the notion took him.
Shorty was awake when we got back to the livery. He grained Sam; I saw there was fresh straw in the clean stall. Shorty might not say much but he took good care of his business. Like as not he was as attentive to detail in all else he did. I could be wrong, but calluses don't often lie.
I stopped by the Sheriff's office and took a look at the paper work, and smiled. There were few matters to be brought before the circuit judge. Matter of fact, there were two, and my name was on both.
Attorney Slade had filed charges of assault against me. This neither surprised nor distressed me, but the second action brought a smile to my face, and the smile was not a pleasant one.
It was my action against Slade.
Attempted murder, two counts; assault on a law enforcement officer, two counts, and manslaughter, two counts ... and bless the Sheriff, he'd wired back to Chauncey and gotten the confirmation of my bona fides as a lawman, and attached the telegram to the complaint.
I checked the calendar. The judge would be in town tomorrow. Reckon I would make a pasear through town and get a good night's rest. I wanted my mind fresh for court.
I debated whether to wear my new suit for court, decided against it. I would be appearing as a deputy sheriff. Let the attorney and the judge wear a suit. What I wore would be clean. Save the suit for less adversarial situations.
I locked the door behind me and made a quiet circuit of town, shaking doors, making sure all was well; I ended my circuit with Sam's sad excuse for a saloon, figuring to go upstairs to bed afterward. I was liking Sam's place less and less well, the more I learned of the man, especially his treatment of Miz Bonnie and Miz Tillie. Bigfoot's information as well was particularly troubling. Time to find somewhere else to stay. I would make that a project after court.
A few fellows were enjoying the cool night air before they, too, retired. One of them, probably with a belly full of liquid fire, was discussing just what he'd like to do to a particular uppity woman.
For a big man I move quiet, and I moved quietly up behind him.
He was talking about Miz Duzy, and what he'd like to do with her, and his words were less than gentlemanly.
There is a time for words, and there is a time for action, and if a man is going to correct another, he must act when the error is fresh in the wrongdoer's mind.
I snatched the revolver from his holster with my right hand; my left drove up, seized the back of his shirt collar. I yanked, hard, and kicked the back of his knees.
He hit the boardwalk, hard.
I leaned over and slammed the flat of my open hand down on his breastbone, hitting him hard enough to half drive the wind out of him. His ribs would ache in the morning.
I closed my hand on a good fist full of his shirt front, and twisted.
Then I picked him up off the ground, and curled him like a weight lifter curls a dumb bell, and held him at nose level, and looked into his eyes.
I saw arrogance, at first, that drained out like water poured out of a canteen, and I pressed him straight up in the air, like a weight lifter will press a barbell.
I held him at arm's length above me, my eyes locked with his, and never said a word.
I didn't have to.
His hands had gone to my wrist, not to try and loosen my grip, but a reflex of fear. His weight was on my knuckles and it was not comfortable for him.
I held him til my arm started to tremble, just a little, then I lowered him to nose level again, and looked long into his eyes.
I saw fear.
I pressed him up to arm's length again, and held him, knowing the others with whom he'd held conversation were watching closely, knowing they'd all heard how I had treated Slade, on this very stretch of board walk, and knowing they'd heard about the general store and what happened there.
I lowered the fellow to nose level again, and said quietly,so only he could hear, "You will speak of the ladies with respect. If harm ever comes to any of them, I know what you look like, and I will find you like I found every last one I ever went after, and I will kill you."
His boot toes were just off the board walk, and I kept him there, my arm drawn in tight against my body, and I carried him into Sam's like that.
The others scrambled to follow, wanting to see what I was going to do.
I stopped and turned suddenly and they almost fell over themselves getting stopped. I considered the horse trough, then had a better idea.
We went into Sam's -- me carrying this fellow by his shirt front, the other three following, pointing, whispering, marveling -- and Sam goggled at us.
I set the fellow up on the bar. "Sam," I announced, "I am buying this fellow a beer. He's got a long ride ahead of him tonight and I wanted to thank him for helping me win a bet."
"A bet?" the fellow gasped as I unscrewed my fist from his shirt front.
"Why, yes," I replied. "I bet the Sheriff I could hoist a man up left handed, and hold him off the ground for five minutes. I am a right handed man, and the Sheriff just lost his bet." I smiled. "Enjoy your beer. You are leaving town tonight and it would not be healthy if you ever came back."
I paid Sam for the beer. Shortly after there was the sound of hoofbeats, a rider leaving town at a gallop.
I hung up my new suit and went to bed.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

William A.A. Wallace 8-6-07

 

"That Preacher is a difficult sort to figure out", Wallace thought. "And that Miss Duzy..." Wallace was taken aback by her outward showing of affection towards him. Never having actually been hugged by any other woman than his dear old Mum, Wallace knew not what to make of this demonstrative woman. It was time to take his leave of the town and these new found aquaintances and go out into the country to hunt, trap, fish...and get his mind together and wrapped around the ideas that the Preacher had espoused. Moving swiftly and silently he quickly came upon the livery and his mule and prepared for a few days journey into the solitude of the great outdoors. He'd be back...that was for sure...if for nothing more than to see how this whole thing played out...and of course, some more of that wonderfully fine coffee that Miss Duzy and her Aunt had given him!

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Kid Sopris 8-6-07

 

"Contempt of morality, has no place in the hot irons of justice; Nor shall the common man sit in judgment of another, but to plant the seeds to do harm to the helpless and innocent breeds retribution". Rev. Sopris whispered these words to Bigfoot Wallace, and just loud enough for Deputy Keller to overhear, but not within the earshot of the ladies or little Sarah.

The night was growing late, Rev. Sopris suggested that it was time for he to depart this wonderful engagement of delicious food, lovely hostesses, and the warmth of a new home, but there is the Lords work to do. Deputy Keller, who would rather stay and visit with Esther was caught between intrigue of Sopris' words and the conversation that took place outside with Mr. Wallace.

Mr. Wallace after finishing up the apple pie and fresh coffee, decided a walk back to town would be in order. The ladies were thanked for the meal, company and the warmth of the hearth and were bid a good evening, and just as the trio of men departed the front door, Rev. Sopris stopped, turned to Ms. Duzy and winked.

As the men strolled back to town they talked freely of the "Devils Brigade" of wrong doers that seem to have a grasp of the town by the throat. Mr. Keller was surely thinking railroad, Bigfoot, whittled a branch with his knife, and Rev.. Sopris briefly expounded his thoughts about evil;

"Gentlemen, there can be no worse wrong then to ignore the threats of others towards the innocent, or to stand idly by and watch others suffer, when one could intervene and prevent tragedy. Our little town is growing and with it so does it's ills. There must be a place with in the confines of our justice system to insure that those intent on violating the basic rights and freedoms of others are met with swiftly and without hesitation. Deputy Keller, I am sure that you and the Sheriff can adequately deal with the open perpetrators of crime, however I think it's time that those of us in the community with the resources and talents, form a bond of trust and support for the Law Enforcement of our town and territory, and aid in the identification, deliverance of those wrong doers onto the door steps of justice; by whatever legal means we can."

"Gentlemen, I would love to continue this thought process, but the darkness breeds evil, and the Lords work never rests. Good Night, and may God Bless you both."

With that the Rev. Sopris departed in the direction of the Church walking very quietly in steps, but reciting a Psalm.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 8-6-07

 

Duzy was having a great time, watching the interaction with her guests, learning a little more about each of them, with each sentence, each look, and each body movement. As a journalist, she had learned to listen and watch carefully, taking in every detail in order to write a factual story, and yet one that was interesting, informative, sensitive to a point, and yet having the accountability that a person should have, knowing that they were responsible for what they entered into print.

When the second knock occurred, she hoped that Mr. Wallace had indeed decided to come for dinner, as there was plenty of food left and she wished to get to know him better! She quickly went to the door to open it, realizing that Reverend Sopris and Mr. Keller were not far behind her. After all, Mr. Wallace, had come to her aid in a time of real distress, and she hadn’t had the chance to thank him. It came as a surprise when he asked her and the Reverend to step outside, hoping that his good deed had not gotten him or anyone into any trouble.

Mr. Wallace was a man of few words and quickly warned Duzy and the Reverend of the talk that was being spread around Sam’s Place, with Mr. Wallace putting it as delicately as he could and yet get his point across. Duzy was beginning to think more of him each time they met, as she knew him to be a good man, a no nonsense type, who spoke the truth, and yet had a gentle side that came through by his actions. She could sense both his and Reverend Sopris’ anger, although it didn’t show outwardly.


Duzy, on the other hand, could feel the rage that started in the core of her body, spreading out to each nerve ending, causing her to become visibly shaken. This reaction seemed to worry both Mr. Wallace and Reverend Sopris; with both of them assuring her not to worry and that she would be safe. Duzy accepted and appreciated their words of comfort; however, she hoped they could not tell how angry and hurt she really was, as they had only been kind to her, and had no idea what was running through her head at the moment! She could just imagine how Sam and Mr. Higgins had been talking! She had heard and seen how they treated Bonnie and Tilly, and it sickened her that they were openly talking about her in such a way, just as it had when they had treated Bonnie and Tilly with such disrespect, as if women were nothing….just to be used as property that they could buy, sell or treat anyway they wished. They were also two of the men who had destroyed her chance at running the newspaper office in Firelands, causing her to begin to make plans that she hoped would bring them to their knees!

Duzy had lived a protected life, and had been very fortunate, so all this hatred and bigotry was new to her. Oh, she had been ridiculed for not getting married young, and having a family, at the old age of twenty two, here and especially in the South, but she had taken that in stride, knowing that she wanted more out of life. She had a burning streak inside her soul that gave her the ambition to try to make changes, that would help the world she lived in, and to someday pass it on to the generations to come, hoping that someday, she could sit and tell the stories to her own grandchildren!

Duzy caught Mr. Wallace by surprise, and gave him a hug, from her heart, thanking him for coming, thanking him for how he had already helped Bonnie, Sarah, Tilly and herself by his selfless actions! She then asked him to come inside and join the party, as she hoped they would become friends for life, just as she did her other “family” and guests tonight.

Mr. Wallace couldn’t turn down the invitation she gave him, as she looked up at him with her brown eyes challenging him with a pretty smile, with the odor of apple pie and coffee in the air. “Perhaps I can stay for just a few minutes, Miz. Duzy,” he said, as they started to turn and go inside. Reverend Sopris stopped, causing Duzy to turn, as he looked her straight in the eyes and said, “Whatever you are feeling, think it through carefully, and whatever you decide, do it with all of your heart!” Duzy couldn’t help but wonder if he had any idea what she was thinking, as most preacher’s she had known, would have judged her on the spot, thinking her thoughts were vindictive and unladylike, telling her that she should repent for such thoughts, as they were unnatural for a woman, and that it was a sin for her to even contemplate such actions, much less to carry them out with the fervor that she was feeling at the moment. She felt the fire, and she knew that soon there would be retribution! She may be naïve in a lot of things, but she knew how to get what she wanted, just as if she were going undercover to get the facts she needed for an article.

Somehow, collectively, they all cleared their minds, as best they could, and entered the house to continue their dinner, with Aunt Esther already having a plate made for Mr. Wallace, knowing her niece well enough that she would get him inside, to enjoy the meal that he had helped to provide. Duzy thought of the pie and coffee and realized that ground vanilla seemed to go well in both of them, as everyone seemed to like it, she included. “Interesting idea,” she thought! And then, the conversations started again, each greeting Mr. Wallace, as Duzy introduced the gentleman to her family and guests.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Charlie MacNeil 8-6-07

 

Charlie slipped into Sam's and stepped sideways to put his back against the wall until his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Even though the light outside had faded into dusk, inside the saloon it was like stepping into a cellar. Only a few smoky, badly trimmed lamps gave any kind of illumination.

When he could see again Charlie eased up to the end of the bar, turned his back against the wall there, and leaned his left elbow on the polished mahogany. With his right hand he tipped his hat back off his forehead. He looked around the room, taking inventory of the occupants, and noticed a big, man-shaped shadow in the far corner of the room. The shadow sat not far from where two men were deep in what appeared to be a less than congenial conversation.

"What'll it be, stranger?" A man in a soiled, once white apron came up to Charlie. One eye was pulled half shut by what appeared to be an old knife scar and the man was missing the ends of two fingers on his left hand.

"Beer, if it's cold," Charlie said. The man nodded and drew him a beer and slid it down the bar. Charlie picked it up in his left hand, which action did not go unnoticed by either the bartender or the big man in the shadows. He took a long drink and set the mug down on the bar then wiped the foam from his mustache. The beer was indeed cold, which was kind of a surprise.

"Got anything to eat here?" Charlie asked next. It had been a damn long time since the stale biscuits and coffee he'd had at daybreak this morning.

"Chili beans and cornbread'll cost you two bits," the bartender said. "But you can eat all you want."

"I guess how much I want will depend on how good it is, won't it?" Charlie asked with a chuckle. "Bring it on. My belly decided long since that my throat's been cut. And draw me another beer while you're at it, if you don't mind."

"Made the chili myself," the bartender said. He went through a door behind the bar and came back in a couple of minutes with a steaming bowl of beans and beef swimming in red pepper sauce and a plate of cornbread. While he was gone, Charlie had been unobtrusively watching the big man over yonder.

The bartender set the bowl and plate on the bar in front of Charlie and brought a soup spoon out of a pocket of his apron and wiped it on the bar towel that hung at his waist.

"I take it I ain't the only one to come in here and eat tonight," Charlie said. He paused then said with a grin, "Either that or this place don't make enough money to afford more than one spoon."

The bartender grinned back and said, "The boss don't believe in keeping a lot of overhead, ya know?" He drew Charlie a second beer and took away the first empty mug. Charlie dug into his food with a will.

Outside, it was dark, and the bartender lit a few more lamps, but the room didn't brighten appreciably. The two men at the other end of the bar ended their conversation and the bigger, mangier looking of the two went behind the bar and began to rearrange the glasses there. The better-dressed one pushed his way out the door. Charlie followed him out with his eyes.

A slight breeze stirred the dust on the floor and Charlie looked toward the far end of the room in time to see a door that had been hidden until more lamps were lit slip silently shut. The big man in the corner had gone. Oh well, it was none of his business. He was just passing through on his way to Wyoming and his family. Or so he thought.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-6-07

 

Miz Duzy had gone to the door. Reverend Sopris, with all the clatter and fuss of a passing ghost, was behind and beside her, I was a little more to the side -- no sense in letting the caller see everyone -- five knocks, I thought: someone worried, some urgent matter; from their vigor, a man's knock, not the light rapid tap of Lightning's boy, and not the delicate rap of a lady's knuckles.
Miz Duzy and the good Reverend recognized the caller; they went outside, closed the door. All was well. I returned to my seat, and easily resumed the conversation.
I had unconciously leaned towards Esther -- with a little surprise I realized I was thinking of her as Esther, and not Miz Esther -- I shook myself mentally and tried to reestablish a formal distance in my thinking, but it didn't work -- anyway, she had leaned toward me and she was asking some incisive questions about the investment I'd made that ended up as controlling shareholder of the railroad, and what had I planned now that I'd sold the investment. To my surprise -- well, I wasn't so much surprised at her, but at myself -- Esther was proving herself to be an astute sort, as I had originally thought, and she told me she'd understood attorney Slade to have steadily lost clientele, with a sudden drop in business since the Sheriff arranged to import another lawyer, and how Slade had been obliged to part with his own controlling interest in the local railroad to raise funds for his own debts.
I blinked. A memory fell into place.
Lightning had commented on my earlier telegrams, when negotiations were in their early stages and I was frequenting his office, sometimes twice a day. He mentioned some other stockholders, by name, and suggested they might be interested in selling.
I did a quick calculation.
"Mr. Keller?"
Esther's eyes were amused as she called me back to the here and now.
"I'm sorry, I ... I had an idea. My apologies. What was your question again?"

[Firelands-The Beginning]

William A.A. Wallace 8-6-07

 

Leaving the Saloon and taking the back alleys to Miss Wales new home, Wallace heard sounds of gaiety emerging from the household. Glancing in one of the windows, he noticed that several of the folks he'd met in the past few days were in attendance. Spyin the Preacher, Wallace knew this was the time and place to warn Miss Wales. Moving quietly for such a large man in his moccasined feet, Wallace approached the door with a little apprehension and gave three distinct knocks from without. A moment later, Miss Wales opened the door with the Preacher right behind her. Wallace glanced inside and took note of the other folks that were inside. Miss Wales said "Why Mr. Wallace, we were wondering if you'd make it. Come on in and enjoy the festivities." Wallace took a step back and said, "Miss Wales, I'd rather not intrude...could you and the Preacher please come out on the porch? I have something to tell you..."

[Firelands-The Beginning]

William A.A. Wallace 8-6-07

 

Having had an excellent hunting trip, game being plentiful in the area, Bigfoot returned to town and met the pretty young woman that he had come to find out was going to try and get a newpaper going in the new town. After exchanging pleantries, Miss Wales offered to have him over to dinner that evening. Wallace nodded his head and said he'd try to make it. Not being the overtly "social" type, Wallace decided to forego the dinner invitation and go to the Saloon and see what bits of information he could find out about the town and the folks in it. Whisky seemed to bring out the "loose tongues" in folk, which is why Wallace rarely ever took a drink for other than "medicinal purposes".

Sitting in a darkened corner of the Saloon, Wallace overheard Sam, the proprietor, discussing the events of the day with a rather unsavory fellow. Another reason not to like Saloons and the type that frequented them, although much useful information could be gleaned if you kept a sober head and listened intently. Wallace overheard the proprietor, Sam, state that Miss Wales ws causing him problems by getting a few of his "prized women of the evening" to leave his establishment for greener pastures. His tone and the evil look in his slightly glazed eyes made Wallace's hair on the back of his head start to tingle. Knowing this to be a sign of imminent danger, Wallace arose and left the Saloon to find Miss Wales and give her fair warning.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 8-6-07

 

"Thank God it's just a little boy!" Bonnie whispered to Tilly.

"What do ya mean?"

"Well, so far this is the first time I have been around Mr. Keller, when someone wasn't getting teeth knocked out, or shot. Look at Sarah! She looks just a tiny bit disappointed!" and Bonnie chuckled.

The timing couldn't have been more perfect. Seeing a literal bounce in Mr. Kellers step after reading the telegram the little guy brought over, a new subject could be conversed, and she could, once again, put the past in the past.

Talking to herself, Bonnie commented, "see- there is always more that what meets the eye." A Rail road!? Who would have thought something like this?! And if Bonnie wasn't mistaken, she saw gold on that odd bag he carried into the Merchantile. What an interesting man!


Bonnie also thought how kind he always was with Sarah, too. Never being one to baby talk to a child herself, Bonnie greatly appreciated how Mr. Keller visited with Sarah as if he valued her little ramblings of discussion.

Bonnie wanted to laugh with the compliment on the vanilla in the coffee. Rev. Sopris may not have frequented Sams Place, but he was spoken about often. One silly conversation she over heard once was, "well--- maybe if'n ya put vanilla in a cupa' coffee, that Preacher just might see his way inta here. Then ole Sam there could start lacin' that coffe with the good stuff! Then we could see what Man o Cloth he really is!"

Now Bonnie had no intentions of maliciously lacing anybody's coffee with, 'the good stuff', but it just seemed like the thing to do for tonights evening coffee. One small way to maybe show Rev Sopris he is appreciated, though he hadn't mentioned the coffee himself, he was drinking a fair amount of it just the same.

All of a sudden she remembered the little story her Papa told her about him putting cayanne pepper into he brother, Colin's drink once, Papa laughed so loud and so hard, "Aye, but I canae say I was sorry! He would nae listen, and he had a wee brain. Aye, I dinnae like that laddie! An me bein here tis his proof he dinnae like me!"

"Aw, Papa .."

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-6-07

 

The Lord looks after fools and children, and in my lifetime I have been both.
Fortunately, tonight, I was not terribly foolish, and Sarah was child enough for us all, bless her.
It had been a very long time since I regarded the world through the eyes of a child. I took a few peeks, tonight, in between helpings of what was without any doubt a'tall some of the best food I have ever eaten!
There are cooks who learn their craft; there are cooks who are God-gifted with an artisanship in that area, and there are a few, a truly few, who have both. Some make their way to the best restaurants in Europe. I had eaten at one such, but only one; over the years I have eaten from many tables. Without any doubt at all, this was the absolute best I'd ever had.
The Chinese have a saying: "Hunger makes the best sauce." I came in with an appetite, but had I arrived full as a tick I would have still eaten a full meal -- it was that good!
My attention wandered, as it will with a comfortably full belly and good company. Reverend Sopris was saying little and listening much -- the mark of a wise man indeed! -- poor Tillie came in looking terrified, but was relaxed now; she'd eaten but little, and her thin hands weren't trembling like they had been. She tried to hide it, but I saw the Reverend's eyes catch it, then he looked at me and saw I'd noticed too.
The Reverend is a deep one. I wouldn't want to play poker against him.
Esther was in her element. She had a natural presence that ran the meal like a ... well, like a pocket watch: smooth running, well regulated, highly organized. I'd be willing to bet she had a background in business, and would be willing to bet good money that the business, whatever it had been, was profitable -- thanks to her.
My ear twitched when Bonnie began telling a little of herself. She was clearly uncomfortable, and when she started hesitating in her speech, when she spoke of her mother's death and the bank's foreclosure on their boarding house, I saw her hands close, tightly; Aunt Esther's hands, too, closed, and I could tell this was a source of considerable discomfort.
"Esther?" I asked quietly. "Now that you're out here, have you plans for your future? You strike me as someone who maps her way before journeying, and I've no doubt you have something in mind."
Esther looked quickly at me, a little surprised, but pleased. I felt my ears turning red. It is very much unlike me to speak so boldly to a woman, even when a guest at her table, but I had done it, and I was just bustin' to share some of my own plans, but I hadn't much of anyone left these last couple of years I could confide in and so generally held my own counsel.
I was surprised at her answer, and delighted, and considered my options.
There was a knock at the door.
Reverend Sopris and I were on our feet, silent, ready.
We looked at each other, nodded.
I headed for the door, silent on the painfully-clean plank floor; the Reverend, too, moved with me, equally stealthy. His coat was unbuttoned, as was mine.
The Reverend was behind the door.
We exchanged glances, another nod.
I opened the door.
It was Lightning's boy with a slip in his hand. "Message for you, Mr. Keller," he grinned.
A quick scan behind him and I was satisfied he was alone. "Come on in, son." He stepped in, sniffing appreciatively at the good smells. Aunt Esther was immediately on her feet with a smile and an extra plate she'd conjured from somewhere. She knew the way to a man's heart, and a boy's, and the lad was happily devouring a big slice of apple pie as I read the telegram.
I showed the telegram to Reverend Sopris. He whistled quietly, raised one eyebrow.
"Congratulations," he murmured. "What'll you do now?"
"Send a reply," I grinned, and began printing a reply for the lad to take back to Lightning.
The lad walked on two hollow legs and soon devoured the large slice of pie. I sent him on his way with a coin for his troubles, and one for Lightning.
We returned to our seats.
"Good news?" Esther asked. Miz Duzy picked delicately at her dessert; Tillie, poor thing, had her hands clenched in her lap.
"Yes, ma'am," I smiled. I saw no harm in letting them know. "The B&O back home wants to buy my railroad."
"You've got a railroad?" Sarah said with wide eyes and an innocent expression.
"Yes, ma'am, the Zig Zag and Wobble, better known as the Z&W. Coal mines are doing so well back home, and we're doing so well hauling coal for the mines, we've been made quite a good offer. I just sent Lightning a long reply." I could not help grinning. "The reply was, 'Sell!'"
"Why, that's wonderful," Esther exclaimed. "What ever will you do now?"
"First I think I will have another slice of pie, if there's any left, and some more of that excellent coffee. I've never had it with vanilla before, but it's quite good!"
Miz Bonnie's ears flamed red, her cheeks pinked beautifully, and her gaze dropped to her plate. I saw she was biting her lip. Bless her for being modest, I thought, she was giving us a special treat with this fancy coffee! Must have been a very long time since she'd received a compliment, by the look of her response... on the other hand I have trouble reading women.
Sure hope I didn't hurt her feelings!

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 8-5-07

 

Sitting at a table more beautiful than words, Bonnie glanced around at the people sitting around the table. People from different walks of life. Physically, each were unique. Sarah was chattering like a Magpie to anyone who would listen, but there was not a worry with that. Sarah was a delight. Her voice was sweet and animated, both at the same time. One couldn't help but listen to her prattle on and on. Duzy was excitedly telling about her new plans. Esther was attentive to Mr. Keller. Tilly was meek and quiet, but bless her heart, she was holding her own. Rev. Sopris smiled easily, and hung onto everyones words as if they really were important to him.

Bonnie looked up suddenly when someone across the table asked her a question. At first she thought it was her imagination ... guilt, loss, sorrow ... those emotions can trigger a mind to play tricks on a person ... can't they? Was someone asking her about where she came from? About her family?

Bonnie told a little of her story to Esther ... but was it really important for anyone to know anything? Was any of her life really anyones business? Was it a necessity in this life to bare ones soul in order to survive? Lord! Bonnie didn't understand most of her life herself! How could she possibly make these people understand if she couldn't? Chicago? Papa? Her step brother?

The months after Bonnie's Mama and Margaret died of Typhoid, and when the bank foreclosed on the boarding house, were a literal blur to Bonnie ... It took weeks ...maybe months before she came to any sense at all. Tilly was the one who helped Bonnie go through that horrible time removing laudanum from her system, and to this day, Bonnie didn't even remember beginning to take the opium poison.

A small portion of a poem by W. H. Auden came to Bonnies mind ...
"Behind the corpse in the reservoir, behind the ghost on the links,
Behind the lady who dances and the man who madly drinks,
Under the look of fatigue, the attack of migraine and the sigh
There is always another story, there is always more than meets the eye."

Well, Bonnie thought ... there is definitly more than meets the eye!

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Kid Sopris 8-5-07

 

As the evening wore on, Sopris surmized all that laid before him. The new home for Ms. Duzy, Esther, Bonnie, Tilly and Sarah seemed to bring the happiness to many that was once lost.

There is nothing like the brightness of a child's eyes, or the laughter contained therein to realize how special life really is. Sopris' mind would occasionally wander to times long ago; remembering.

A sober thought struck Sopris, he remembered seeing Mr. Wallace entering Sam's as he was departing town, and recalling their brief discussion following Sunday services last. The Rev. knew Mr. Wallace was not entering Sam's for Social endeavors but more for intelligence gathering of sorts. Sopris thought how ironic that this would couple with the Reverend thoughts that it was about time that the "Spirits of Darkness" pay visits to some deserving souls. Nothing like a fresh look and remind of things to come to get a sinners attention he thought.

Tonight was particularly dark as a crescent moon shown on partially through the Summer clouds blowing in from the Northwest. A gentle breeze would ruffle the leaves enough to silence the steps of a quiet walker. And if Sopris was correct on the activities of those needing visits they would have consumed enough alcohol by midnight to be ripe for the mind to suffer from delusions.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Charlie MacNeil 8-5-07

 

Charlie stopped at the corner of the barn and waited a few seconds for the other half of the partnership to show up. "Water trough's around front, Dawg," he called softly. He heard a "woof" and smiled. A great black head peeked around the corner of the barn and Dawg's black eyes glinted at him. His big pink tongue lolled out in Dawg's version of a smile. Dawg's smile had been known to frighten strong men and make women fawn over him. It all depended on who Dawg was with.

"I'm going to the saloon, Dawg," Charlie said. "You can stay here with Buck or go with me, but I'm not sure they'll let you in." He smiled again. "You might want to stay here."

Dawg woofed again and padded toward the front of the barn. He was thirsty.

"What in the name of the Lord is that?" a voice suddenly exclaimed. Charlie whirled to see Shorty standing open-mouthed, staring at the great black mass in front of him.

"That's my partner," Charlie told him. "Dawg, this is our host." Dawg solemnly stepped forward and offered a paw. Shorty hesitated a moment then reached and "shook hands" with the big dog. "Don't worry, Shorty," Charlie said. "He generally doesn't eat livery stable operators. I'll bring him some dinner when I come back. He'll more than likely stay with Buck."

"Whatever you say, mister," Shorty mumbled then stumped back into the barn. Dawg went to the trough and took a long drink then turned and went into the barn. Charlie unpinned the badge from his vest, dropped it into his pocket, and headed on down to the saloon.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 8-5-07

 

Duzy couldn't help but notice the looks that Aunt Esther was giving Mr. Keller, in that way of hers, that if you didn't know her so well, you wouldn't notice at all! He didn't seem to mind staying close by as the evening progressed either, complimenting Aunt Esther on the meal and finding one thing after another that interested the both of them. Could it be, Duzy thought, that Aunt Esther might be charmed by his softly spoken, gentlemanly ways, not to mention how he and Sarah were getting along! He seemed to love children and to have a natural tendency toward noticing their needs.

Tilly was beginning to relax and enjoy the banter that was going on, sometimes with different conversations going on at the same time, with all those who had attended. The evening was turning out wonderfully!

Reverend Sopris was the quietest, and yet every bit the gentleman, also playing with Sarah and interjecting humor into the conversation, always
uplifting, and yet sometimes straight to the point leaving one to wonder if he had learned to give his advice in an abstract way...leaving one to ponder on what he had said and how and to whom it was meant for.

Bonnie seemed content, relaxing now that Tilly was able to start to feel relaxed as well.

Duzy was enjoying the evening and wondered what was yet to come, as the new friends continued to enjoy the meal and converse.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Charlie MacNeil 8-5-07

 

The tired buckskin horse and its tired, dusty rider had drifted into town earlier in the day. The man's sweat-stained hat had a bullet hole in the crown and a rip in the brim and his canvas britches were dirty and faded, but the star on his vest gleamed in the late afternoon sunshine.

Charlie stepped down in front of the livery stable and eased the big horse's cinch. The horse sighed with relief and tugged on the reins, reaching for the brimful water trough that stood in the shade near the open barn door. "Alright, alright," Charlie said, "just a minute." He chuckled and reached to the small of his back with both hands and tried to rub some of the kinks out. He reached up and hung the reins on the horn of his slickfork saddle, and the buckskin moved to the trough and plunged his nose into the cool water.

Charlie hitched his holstered pistol to a more comfortable position on his hips and walked up to the open barn door. "Anybody home?" he called.

"Be right with ya," a voice answered. A small, crippled gent with a pitchfork in his hand came to the door. "What can I do for ya?" he asked in a high-pitched voice.

"I'd like to put my horse up for the night, if you've got room," Charlie said.

"Four bits for the night, and all the hay he can eat. My name's Shorty, by the bye," he said.

Charlie shook the offered hand and dug in the pocket of his vest for some coins. "He could use some corn too, if you've got some," he said. "He's come a long ways, and he's got a long ways to go."

"That'll be another two bits," Shorty said. "We gotta freight it in, so it comes dear."

Charlie handed over another coin, and reached for Buck's reins. "Is there a place a man could get a drink somewhere hereabouts?" he asked.

"Only place in town is Sam's," Shorty told him. He pointed down the street. "It ain't much, but it's got a bar. Female type company too, if a man's interested."

Charlie held up his left hand and the ring on his finger flashed gold in the late afternoon sunlight. "Just the drink'd be fine." He handed Buck's reins to Shorty and turned toward the saloon.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 8-5-07

 

Back at Sam's Place, Sam was discussing the latest news with Mr. Higgins. "That hussy is hell bent to brake me, first taking Bonnie and now Tilly!"

"She ain't been nothin but trouble since she got here, stupid woman, thinkin she could run a newspaper and stir things up here," Mr Higgins said, as he took another drink of whiskey.

"She best be careful, as I know some men in this town who would like to break that little filly in, herd em say so myself" Sam said, spitting his tobacco, missing the spittoon in the corner. "He smiled to himself, thinkin he may just be the man to do it, showing her she wernt no better than any of his wimin."

Sitting in the dark corner of the saloon, a man was listening to every word, thinking he would like to put a bullet between both of their eyes, his hand fingering his knife, but knowing it was best to sit back, listen and learn for now.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Duzy Wales 8-5-07

 

Duzy was delighted to see Bonnie back and to see Tilly with her, she had worried about Bonnie's friend still living at Sam's Place. Duzy was counting on Bonnie and Tilly to tell her who she could trust to work at the new gambling hall, restaurant and saloon she was planning to have, along with Bonnie's new business plan. She wanted all the ladies who wanted to, in Firelands, to be working at something they enjoyed, and not being held to anything due to financial concerns. Duzy was beginning to think she may need an entire block of buildings to house the businesses forming in her mind.

Duzy walked over, knowing that Tilly was probably feeling uncomfortable, even after Sarah's delightful welcome, and hugged her as well, welcoming her to her new home and announcing to all there that Miz. Tilly would be living with them.

"It looks as if Mr. Wallace will not be able to dine with us this evening," Duzy stated, still hoping he would make it, "but we do have him to thank for the fresh meat on the table tonight!"

Now that Bonnie was back, Duzy was able to let go of her worry and turned to entertain their guests, smiling as she heard everyone greeting Miz. Tilly with welcoming arms and handshakes.

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Lady Leigh 8-5-07

 

"Tilly ... it will be fine! I promise you, it will be fine! Now hurry and put this on. I know I'll need to tack the hem of this skirt up, and I don't want to waste to much time. As soon as Sam is back I want to get this over with." And Bonnie continued to herself, "I want to get out of here as fast as I can."

A half hour earlier, Bonnie entered Sams Place through the back door and quietly climbed the back staircase in search for Tilly. In her arms she carried, what Bonnie hoped, would be a physical beginning to a new life, the altered hand me down clothes from Mrs. Higgins.

"Bonnie ... "

"Please, Tilly, don't worry about it so much ... Now let's just tie this ribbon in your hair ... let me look ...."

Tilly's blond hair and eyes looked lovely next to the green and gold remade gown. Tilly's hand went to the high neckline and subconsciously pulled at it a little, which made Bonnie laugh silently.

"You look lovely! I hope you realize that ... Now let's get going. Hand me that contract, will you? And let's get this over with! I don't EVER want to come back to this place again! My skin is crawling something firece!"

Ten minutes later, after a much heated debate between Bonnie and Sam, the two walked out the back door. Different as day and night ... Tilly a golden blond with lavendar blue eyes, and skin almost transluent. Skinny as a rail and shorter than Bonnie by a good 3 inches. Bonnie, tall, being 5 foot nine inches, was especially tall for a woman. Her auburn haired pulled back simply from an oval face healthy with a peachy color sprinkled and a touch of light colored freckles over her nose and cheak bones. Her laughing green eyes shown down on her friend with tenderness and understanding.

"Home, Tilly! It is a new beginning. Don't ever look over your shoulder at the past ... just keep your chin up and eyes wide open! I don't want us to miss a thing about what promices to be a wonderful future!"

"But why did Ms. Duzy do this fer me?" Tilly's hand held onto Bonnies with shaking nervousness. Poor thing was a bit drained of color, too.

"I stopped asking that same question, Tilly! I do not have the foggiest idea what makes those two women tick! You would think that would make you nervous and jumpy, but it doesn't, you'll see. Esther has the warmest eyes and demeaner, Tilly. One look at her and you just 'know' everything will be fine. And Duzy!! Goodness, but she moves a mile a minute, and her mind even faster! But she gives me a sense of hope, Tilly."

Hope .... hope ...

"But dinner, Bonnie? The Preacher will be there!" Panic was attacking Tilly with those words.

"I have NEVER met a Preacher like him before, Tlly! Believe me when I say, you will not be held in the judgement seat with him! Nor anyone else at the home!"

Home ....

Moments later, the two were standing at the front door. "Are you ready Tilly?" Tilly looked down at the green skirt, ran her hand down the bronze buttons on the vested bodice, and with one last little tug at the neckline, "Yes, Bonnie ... I am. But don't ya dare leave me by m'self with the Preacher! God almighty, don't leave me alone with anyone!"

Bonnie tuned the nob and entered first ... with tug, and she pulled Tilly in behind her, "Please everyone, make my friend welcome! This is Tilly Ashcroft."

Running with Dolly in her arms, Sarah sqeeled, "Tilly! Oh Tilly!"

Thank God for Sarah!

[Firelands-The Beginning]

Linn Keller 8-4-07

 

Sam had to duck a little to fit in the barn, but once inside there was head room enough. One stall had been mucked out and fresh straw applied. Sam chose the fresh straw, and I shook him out a bait of corn. Saddle and bridle went in their appointed places. I looked around. The barn would take a bit of work but nothing excessive, but not tonight.
No, not tonight.
The smells of good cooking reached even the barn, and even had I not an invitation, the odors alone would have drawn me to their door like a magnet.
I stepped up to the door, raised my knuckles to knock.
Something like fear came over me.
I had not set down to a good woman-cooked meal, with the women folks, for ... well, since ...
I remembered rubbing Connie's auburn hair between my fingers, there in the red sunrise, with the ground mist flowing around us, and the clouds banked up tall over the lake. The Yankee uniform scratched and the officer's saber swung awkwardly at my side.
Connie had been so proud of me. Dana was only a year old, sleepy and dozing against her mother's breast as I kissed them both goodbye.
I rode off to join my troops.
That was the last I saw Connie alive.
I returned home, gaunt, worn, a century older than when I'd left, straining for that first sight of home, of Connie, standing out with her hand shading her eyes, watching ...
Nobody was there.
A black wreath hung on the door.
The neighbor had been kind enough to watch Dana for the week between Connie's death, and my return. They had buried her in the church yard, with her family. I spent most of my mustering-out money to buy a tomb stone.
The next day the doctor told me Dana's funny rash was the small pox.
I shivered, took a long, shuddering breath. That was a long time ago, I told myself silently. That is past. Move on.
I took off my hat, turned it awkwardly around and around and around by the brim, then realized I hadn't brought the coffee with me. It was still in the barn with my saddlebags.
"Sam," I said, retrieving the Arbuckle's, "don't let me ruin this evening for the ladies. They've gone to good trouble to fix a nice dinner and I am so afraid I am going to say something that will spoil it for everyone."
Sam turned his head and just looked at me.
This time I did not hesitate: I stepped up to the door and gave it three distinct knocks.
Miz Duzy opened the door.
For a long moment I stood there, my mind absolutely blank.
The weight of the Arbuckle's in my hand reminded me that I should not be imitating a cigar store Indian. I honestly don't know what Miz Duzy said, just that, whatever it was, melted me into a puddle right there on the porch. She could have asked me to fetch her the White House and I would have done it.
I looked around as I stepped through the door. "You have made this house look lovely, Miz Duzy," I said, and I meant it. I had never been in it before, but had heard accounts of its previous rough appearance. The ladies had indeed made it a home, in the finest sense of the word.
"Miz Bonnie will be back shortly. She had an errand to run and hasn't returned yet."
I saw the look of concern in her eyes.
Women are hard creatures to read, but my gut told me she was genuinely worried over something. I winked reassuringly. "Well, if she isn't back soon, we shall find her."
Aunt Esther stepped up and extended her hand. I half-bowed and swept it up, kissing her knuckles like I'd done it my entire life. She blushed and dropped a curtsy as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Considering her naturally elegant bearing, it probably was.
Then I saw the table.
I had seen a similar layout, once before, and a lead weight dropped from my belly to my boot tops.
Connie and I had eaten at the fanciest hotel in Cleveland on our wedding day. We took the sidewheel paddleboat, and laughed, and talked, and planned our years together like newlyweds always do, and we took a carriage to the hotel, and our wedding supper was laid out with the same symmetrical perfection of silver and china and immaculately prepared dishes.
Reverend Sopris and I greeted one another and shook hands. I hadn't had much occasion to speak with the man, but something told me he was considerably deeper than a body would suspect. He would probably play quite a good game of poker.
Sarah came running over, legs scissoring briskly under her petticoats. "Mr. Keller!" she shouted, fairly jumping into me, just like Dana did when she saw me. Automatically I bent and scooped her up and spun her about, just like I used to with Dana, and Sarah laughed with delight, and for a moment the sun shone in my heart and all was well.