Horse With No Name Read online

  Julia always obliged with whatever tidbits she had that wouldn't cause offense should they get back to the person who they were about. Today she shared that the fundraising for the church was going well and Pastor Thoreson thought they would probably be able to break ground in the spring.

  "The town is growing at quite a pace, isn't it? If we can have a church and this schoolhouse."

  "Very true, Mr. Hewitt."

  News gratefully received, Mr. Hewitt made motions to leave. "Come on, boys. Let's get a move on and let Mrs. Thom get on with her day."

  As Mr. Hewitt herded the boys down the steps, Julia walked with him. He was halfway down the staircase when he turned and said, "I was very sorry to hear about Mr. Hunter. That was just terrible."

  "Wasn't it? Shocking."

  Hewitt shook his head, rolling his soft cap in his hands. "He's a good man, Hunter. Quiet. Keeps to himself. But he's always polite and friendly. I like the man."

  "I do too, Mr. Hewitt."

  "I understand you found him?"

  Julia nodded. "I did. He was not in a good way."

  "He's on the mend now though?"

  "Yes. He's doing well. Betty Mitchell and I popped in this morning to see how he was doing. He's nervous about getting fat on all the bread and scones Betty is feeding him."

  Hewitt grinned. "He could use a bit more meat on his bones, that man. He's a wee little thing, isn't he?" Julia thought this was amusing coming from the reed-thin Mr. Hewitt. But she made agreeing noises.

  On the street, Julia saw Harry and Peter climb onto the front seat of Mr. Hewitt's wagon. The man in front of her put his hat on and walked down two more steps. He called over his shoulder, "He'll be missed at the poker game, that's for sure. He always had enough cash, and he's a terrible player." Hewitt chuckled. "I won't be there, but they'll miss him tonight."

  "Poker game?" Julia asked, "I thought gambling was illegal."

  "Aye it is. But don't tell Jack Merrick that. He's a regular too." Mr. Hewitt went through the gate into the street and climbed up into the wagon. The boys waved as they drove off and Julia waved back, though her thoughts were elsewhere.

  She had no idea such a game existed in town, and she suspected that was intentional. Gambling was not something ladies participated in or even acknowledged. And Mr. Hunter had participated. Julia's thoughts whirled. She knew so little about the man, and was determined to find out more in case that led her to the perpetrator of his beating. Even if the man himself wanted to let well enough alone, Julia couldn't bring herself to ignore the elephant in the room. Someone was bothered enough by something Hunter had done or said that he or they had beaten the man nearly to death. That was not an event Julia was willing to stand by and let be forgotten. Even if Hunter hadn't saved her from the blaggards at the dance, she would be invested in solving the puzzle of his attacker.

  And now, she thought, as she stepped back into the schoolhouse, I'll bet those men at the poker table know something about Hunter. If he's at the game regularly, they might know more about him than anyone in town. I'm just going to have to winkle information out of them, whether they like it or not.

  Twelve

  Hewitt didn’t say where the poker game was held. Just that it was on Thursday nights. As luck would have it, this was a Thursday.

  When she thought about who might attend the game, Julia began running through a roster of the town's men. She was nearly certain that Christopher Mitchell didn't play in the game. Not because he was more refined than any of the other men that she might find there, but just that he was, in addition to being a businessman, a scholar. He loved to read and at every social event he would corner Julia at least once so they could discuss the latest Greek play he was reading or the newest work by Mark Twain. Julia loved these conversations, as Christopher was the only person in Horse she could talk to about themes in literature and character development. She knew that Christopher spent any waking moment when he wasn't working in or on his store, in his upholstered chair in his and Betty's home above the shop, reading. He read each night, Betty said, until he fell asleep in the chair, at which point his wife nudged him off to bed.

  Julia stood on the school steps considering who else she could talk to about the game. She fully intended to discover its location and then crash the game this very evening. Her mind sorted through the potential players. Mayor Jones was certainly involved. The man was always desperate for an excuse to spend time away from his wife, though he would never admit such a thing aloud. Julia shuddered at the thought of trying to find out from his wife, Millie, if he was involved. She didn't want to get the mayor into any more trouble than he already got into nearly every day.

  Pastor Thoreson was definitely not involved.

  Walt and Merrick almost certainly were but she refused to go directly to Merrick for information, since he seemed to be annoyed by her very presence these days.

  She thought a bit more and then landed on the obvious solution. The one place in town where everyone's business was known.

  Julia found Mr. and Mrs. Eng where they invariably always were: working over huge steaming pots of wet clothes. The cauldrons they used for laundry were so large Julia was almost sure she could bathe in one. The Engs absolutely could; perhaps both of them in one pot.

  The couple nodded to her as one as she walked in. They wore almost identical stern expressions but Julia had always found the Engs to be friendly. Though it was often challenging to communicate with them through the barrier of language; Julia didn't speak Mandarin and the Engs didn't speak much English. Julia often wondered if they understood more than they let on.

  This, in fact, was the reason she was there in the humid shop in the first place. Though the Engs didn't participate in many, if any, town social events, everyone in town knew them and many used their laundry services. Walt brought the linens from the livery here every week. And the single men in town, like Merrick, Walt and Sully, had the Engs do all their laundry, since they didn't have a wife at home to do it. And, in fact, Julia herself brought her laundry to the Engs each week. Working all day left her no time for the days-long process of washing all her bedding and clothes. Her mother would be horrified to know Julia spent some of her hard-earned wages this way, but Julia was damned if she was going to spend what precious time off she had up to her elbows in hot water and Borax. It was enough to keep her house reasonably clean and food on the table, without adding laundry into the mix.

  "Mr. Eng," she said, making a little bob with her head, "Mrs. Eng. How are you today?"

  The couple smiled at her and continued stirring.

  "You took lon-lee," Mrs. Eng said. "no more." She made a sweeping away motion with her hand.

  "Yes, thank you," Julia made an exaggerated nod, in the pantomime style of people conversing across a language barrier. "I'm looking for some information." She waited, letting the four syllable word sink in.

  The Engs continued to stir.

  Julia mulled over how best to ask for what she wanted in as few words as possible. "Poker," she finally said. "Cards." She mimed dealing out a hand of cards.

  Mr. Eng looked at his wife and then back to Julia. His wispy eyebrows came together above the bridge of his nose. He shook his head.

  Julia pretended to shuffle a deck of cards between her gloved hands, and then made the dealing motion again. "There's a card game somewhere in town tonight. Where is it?" She realized she was raising her voice, as though talking louder would help the Engs to understand her.

  Both halves of the couple were mute. They exchanged a glance and shrugged and then looked back at Julia. Waiting for her to make some sense, it seemed. Julia thought that was unlikely to happen.

  For lack of anything else to do, she began to babble, which was often her default course of action when she was frustrated. Her story about James Hunter flooded out; how he had saved her when she was nearly attacked at the dance on Saturday night, how he had been so gracious with her when she needed her grandmother clock fixed. Later, Juli
a would realize that at this point in the story she made a motion like a swinging pendulum with her arms and then sang a bit of the melody of the Westminster chimes. The Engs faces began to reflect their concern that they might have a demented woman in their shop.

  But Julia carried on, undeterred. She could hear herself talking too much and couldn't stop. "Then, just as I was about to leave his shop, I heard Mr. Hunter groan from behind the counter. I found him, beaten to a pulp and had to get Constable Merrick to help me take him to Dr. Parker's office. He's going to be fine, but I'm trying to figure out who would have done such a thing. I know so little about Mr. Hunter. He's so new to town. Almost as new as I am. But no one deserves such treatment. I heard about the poker game and I'm wondering..."

  She ground to a halt. The oppressive heat and steam of the laundry tubs was affecting her. She was sure her face must be running with sweat and she wanted to undo the top button of her blouse.

  The Engs continued to stir and watch her, like she was an exotic animal they hadn't encountered before.

  Julia recognized that she was defeated. "Well, thank you," she said. "I'll be back next Monday, as usual, with my laundry."

  She turned to go and as she did a rapid fire torrent of Mandarin erupted from Mrs. Eng. Julia waited while the couple exchanged many paragraphs, if not chapters, of discourse. They gestured occasionally toward Julia. Mrs. Eng's voice got louder and more insistent. Mr. Eng volleyed back, but he was no match for his wife. There was a crescendo with both of them talking urgently at once and then suddenly, like someone had turned off a switch, silence. Only the bubbling of the laundry pots.

  The couple looked back at Julia. A few seconds ticked by. Then a few more. Julia waited, unsure as to what was happening. Perhaps the conversation had nothing to do with her. She imagined they'd tuned her out as soon as she'd started babbling in long, rushed sentences.

  Mrs. Eng then startled Julia with a short, sharp comment directed at the side of her husband's head. Then she poked him in the shoulder with one strong finger.

  Mr. Eng turned to his wife and made a shushing motion and then turned back toward Julia. He said one word that had several syllables, but Julia didn't catch it.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  Mr. Eng said the word again, but it was indecipherable to Julia.

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Eng, I don't underst...."

  "Finnegan's!" Mrs. Eng nearly shouted and made Julia jump. The word was as clear as any spoken yet, either by Julia or the Engs.

  Julia's face broke into a wide smile. "Thank you," she said, backing out of the shop, nodding and smiling, "thank you!"

  Thirteen

  Caroline Finnegan was behind the bar, which was not entirely unusual, but not commonplace either. Lily Cecil was walking two dinner plates out to a couple Julia didn't recognize, whose heads were bent together, chatting quietly. Julia nodded to Lily on her way by and walked up to the bar with more confidence than she felt.

  "I'm joining the poker game tonight, Caroline. Where is it?"

  Caroline looked at Julia with her clear green eyes and snorted, "The hell you are, Julia Thom. You're the schoolteacher and a woman of good breeding. I will not send you into a room with those four dunderheads." Then she paused, catching herself. "What poker game?"

  "It seems I'm the last person in town to know about it. And now I want in."

  Caroline stood her ground, leaning on the bar with both hands and pushing her face toward Julia. "No."

  Julia leaned in herself, the bar's edge pressing into her ribs. She spoke quietly, but with clarity, "If you don't tell me where it is, I'll make sure to mention to Millie Jones next time I see her that you were admiring her feathered hat the other day and were wanting her to teach you how to make such things."

  The two women locked eyes. Julia knew she had Caroline over a barrel. Caroline had no time or patience for either couture or Millie Jones. Julia knew that Millie got under Caroline's skin more than most. And further, that Millie could sense it and would take any opportunity to get closer to Caroline and win her over.

  Julia refused to blink. She watched ideas and questions swirl in her friend's clear brown eyes.

  Finally Caroline said, "You will not. You're too nice to do that to me."

  "The jury's still out on whether I'm nice, but I'll tell you for sure what I am tonight: I'm desperate and determined. I'm trying to find out who beat James Hunter."

  There was another slight pause while Caroline considered this. Then she stood up straight, pulling herself away from the bar. The game was lost. Julia swore to herself; here she'd come to win at poker and hadn't even been able to bluff the gatekeeper. She prepared to turn and walk away.

  "Room eight," Caroline said, looking stern.

  Julia took a deep breath. "Thank you."

  "They won't like you being there."

  Julia expected this was true. The men's poker game was probably like a secret club and appealing as such.

  Caroline continued, "But you tell them this. If they don't let you join I won't be bringing up sandwiches and beer throughout the night. They can feed themselves and the bar and kitchen will be closed to them." She nodded her head once, sharply.

  "Thank you, Caroline." Julia smiled and turned to leave.

  Caroline stopped her before she reached the bottom of the staircase. "You wouldn't have told Millie that lie about me liking her hat, would you?" the proprietress asked.

  Julia shrugged and smiled. "We'll never know, will we?"

  ***

  The room smelled of cigars and men.

  When Julia opened the door to the room, Edgar Finnegan said, without looking up from his cards, "Sandwiches already? Christ, woman, we've hardly sat down."

  Julia closed the door behind her. She wished she had a way to capture the comical look on each of the men's faces as they looked up at her.

  The room was one of the hotel's standard guest rooms, but it had been altered for the men's purposes. There was no bed in it at all. The center of the room held a large round table, a match to the ones in the dining room below them. There was a wardrobe in one corner, and a tall dresser with a lamp burning on it. The bedside tables were there as well, though between them was not a bed but a narrow rectangular table with two partially empty bottles of whisky and a plate with just crumbs.

  "I see you've got an empty place," Julia said, and sat down in what she assumed was James Hunter's spot.

  Mayor Billy Jones had his cigar firmly planted between his lips. His round face sitting atop his round body always reminded Julia of a snowman. Now he looked even more like one, except instead of a carrot nose he had a cigar sticking out of his face.

  Walt and Merrick were there. Walt grinned across the table at Julia and she could almost hear his glee. Merrick looked less thrilled to see her. He glared at her out from under his thick, black eyebrows.

  "What're you doing, Miss Thom?" Finnegan asked. "You can't be here, lass."

  Julia pulled off her gloves and laid them in her lap with her purse. "Deal me in, Edgar. I came to play, not talk."

  Across the table Walt quietly snorted.

  Mayor Billy looked at Finnegan and shifted his cigar to one side of his mouth, "This is preposterous. She's a woman, for crying out loud."

  Finnegan nodded and placed the deck he'd been shuffling down on the table in front of him. He folded his hands over it and pinned Julia down with a stare. "Miss Thom, I don't mean to be rude but this is a private game. Invitation only, you see."

  "I do see." Julia nodded, folding her own hands together in front of her on the table. "And here's what else I see. An illegal gambling operation that I'm fairly confident Mrs. Jones doesn't know about. Or am I wrong about that, Mayor?"

  The mayor shook his head sadly. "No. You're right. She thinks I'm here every Wednesday night talking town business with Edgar."

  "I thought so," Julia nodded and smiled genially. She looked back to Edgar Finnegan. "Deal me in Edgar."

  The host looked around the table at
Walt, Merrick and Mayor Billy. She wasn't sure what he saw in his friends' eyes but he continued to hesitate.

  Julia reached down into her lap and opened the clasp on her purse. She pulled out a wad of dollar bills and a few coins. The stack of bills was almost half an inch high.

  Mayor Billy looked from the money up into Julia's face. "You heard the woman, Edgar," he said. "Deal her in."

  ***

  Julia was way out of her depth at the card table. She figured that out almost immediately.

  She'd played a bit of poker with her father as a child, but only when her mother was out of the house. It was a secret between them and Julia loved these instances of something precious and secret that she had with her father. Poker was one of the devil's devices, so Mrs. Thom could never know about the games. From her father Julia learned strategy and bluffing. But they were rudimentary lessons; she had never played with more than one other player. This game in the smoky, stuffy hotel room was taking things to a whole new level.

  As luck would have it, bluffing was a skill Julia had very recently been practicing. As a school teacher she had to be in command of the room of children she was in charge of, whether she felt in control or not. The children, she found out pretty quickly, could smell fear. They were like a pack of wolves on the hunt for the weakest member of the herd. It wasn't conscious with them, it seemed to be almost instinctual. Within three days of landing in Horse's schoolhouse, she had figured out that she could never, ever let her weak flank show. For her own safety, and ultimately for theirs, Julia needed to be in command at every moment. She wasn't cruel or mean, but she never let her guard down in front of the group.

  This was the skill she applied now. The men were watching her, sussing her out, trying to find her weak spots and trying to intimidate her with their frosty glares. (All except Walt. He was enjoying himself immensely.) So Julia feigned confidence.

  To her delight, she won the first round. This set the men back on their heels. Her presence was clearly removing some of the joy and banter they normally shared. They couldn't be themselves with Julia present and she knew that. She almost felt sorry for them.