Horse With No Name Read online

  While Merrick dealt the next hand, and while her luck held, Julia broached the reason she was there at all.

  "Gentlemen, I understand James Hunter is a regular at this table."

  The men grumbled agreement.

  "Is he a good player?"

  More grumbling but no actual words reached Julia's ears. She gathered the cards Merrick was flicking toward her under her palms and made an effort to ignore his hostility. Was his ill temper about her pushing in on the game, or because she had forced him to take her to the Double A ranch the other day? She shrugged and pressed on.

  "Let me put it to you this way, then. Did he owe anyone money? Had he lost recently at the table?"

  Merrick finished dealing and set the remains of the deck in the center of the table. "Why do you ask?" he said, gathering his own cards together and ordering them in his hands.

  "Because someone beat him up and I'd like to know why."

  Merrick laid his cards down and looked to his left. Mayor Billy indicated he wanted two cards. While he went around the table, questioning each player, Merrick's mouth formed a thin line. "I told you I talked to Hunter, didn't I? He doesn't want the matter investigated."

  "You did tell me that, and I understand but..." she hesitated.

  "But you can't leave well enough alone." Merrick's eyebrows were crowded together in the center of his face.

  "Correct," Julia said. "One card, please."

  There was silence while the men attended to the business of betting. Mayor Billy folded when Julia threw a dollar into the pot. Edgar Finnegan folded shortly after that. "I'll go see where the sandwiches are," he said, and stood up.

  This left Julia playing with just Walt and Merrick.

  Merrick tossed a two-bit piece into the center of the table. "Call," he said. And then, "What if we don't want to talk? What if we'd just like to play our usual quiet game of cards and not have to jabber with you about Hunter's business?"

  "What about this?" she said, tossing her own two-bit piece into the pot.

  "Fold," Walt said and leaned back in his chair. He rested his hands on his stomach and watched Merrick and Julia with a hint of mischief in his eyes and a smile flickering at the corners of his mouth.

  "What if," Julia continued, "I only get to ask a question when I win a hand?"

  Merrick looked up from his cards at her. "One question?"

  "One question. Per hand won."

  Merrick glanced at Walt and Billy, looking for their approval.

  "Seems fair to me, Jack," the mayor said.

  Merrick looked at Walt. The big Irishman said, "Fine with me. I'd let her stay regardless. She makes things interesting." He winked at Julia who smiled back at him.

  Finnegan reentered the room carrying two large plates on one arm, piled high with Caroline's hand cut roast beef sandwiches. In his right hand he had a huge glass jar filled with pickles.

  "Finn, Julia has a proposal," Merrick said to him. "For every round she wins she gets to ask a question about what we know about James Hunter."

  Finnegan put the plates down on the side table and opened the jar of pickles. "Fine with me. It should be a pretty quiet night then." He stood up grinning and he too winked at Julia, showing her he meant no harm.

  "Okay, then." Merrick looked uncharacteristically pleased with himself. Julia's stomach did a little flip. The cards she was holding were decent but the constable looked as though he believed he held the winning hand. Julia wasn't sure she could take the humiliation if she started losing. But she was in too deep now to back out.

  "On that note," Merrick continued, "it's just down to you and me." He looked smug and confident and Julia had to admit she found the combination attractive. "Looks like you'll be quiet for a while yet." He laid his cards down on the table. "Straight," he said, and spread out a sequence of cards running from a four of clubs to an eight of hearts.

  "Oh, dear," Julia said, "Well, that's too bad." She laid her cards down, "I only have a flush." She looked up and met Merrick's eyes. His face dropped in disappointment. "Oh, wait," she said, feigning ignorance, "a flush beats a straight, right? Silly me." She scooped the pot toward her.

  "Ah, Merrick, she got ya," Finnegan clapped the constable on the back as he walked back to his chair. "You were bested by a wee lass."

  After that things got tougher for Julia. The men were on their guard, which was too bad. She'd had more of an advantage when they thought nothing of her. And yet, she won her fair share of hands. Mayor Billy was an abysmal player and Finnegan wasn't that great either. They seemed to be in the game for the camaraderie and, in Mayor Billy's case, the food. He spent a great deal of time getting himself dealt out of hands so that he could stand at the sandwich table and crunch loudly on pickles.

  "I swear to God," he said at one point, "if I didn't come to this game each week I'd starve to death." His round torso gave lie to this statement but none of the players challenged him.

  At the end of the night, Julia suspected Walt of taking it easy on her. But Merrick did not. Most rounds went to one of them, although Finnegan did win a hand with a lucky deal. His poker face was terrible though and they all knew when he held an exceptional hand, and bowed out early. He didn't seem to care about the money and was just thrilled to win.

  In the end Julia got six questions answered. This involved being dealt into eleven rounds and by the time that was over it was nearly midnight. She came away from the table several dollars richer, and, more to her satisfaction, a bit wealthier in information. She scooped her winnings into her purse and pulled on her gloves.

  "Thank you so much, gentlemen. It's been my pleasure taking your money and your knowledge.”

  As she pulled the door closed behind her, she heard Mayor Billy say, "Thank Christ that's over. I thought she'd never leave."

  Julia poked her head back into the room, making the mayor jump, "Watch it, Mayor," she said, "Or next time I'll bring a certain wife of yours along."

  Fourteen

  There was a set of stairs on the outside of the hotel that led down to the back door of the kitchen. Julia used them now, not wanting to use one of the main staircases that led into the restaurant and bar. Despite her bravado earlier, it would probably be wise not to be seen coming down from the hotel rooms at midnight by anyone.

  Her purse was heavier than when she'd arrived, which sent a thrill through Julia's heart. She stepped down off the last stair onto the large yard behind the hotel. She intended to slip away into the night, hopefully remaining unseen, but she stopped short after a few steps. Voices were coming from inside the hotel kitchen; arguing and pleading. A man and a woman. Julia hesitated, and listened. She assumed Caroline Finnegan would step in and stop whatever was going on, but the longer Julia waited the more she realized that perhaps Caroline wasn't within earshot.

  The woman's voice reached Julia's ears, "Alan, stop."

  Julia took three steps and pulled open the kitchen's screened door.

  Lily Cecil was standing beside the long table in the middle of the room. She was wearing her usual waitressing attire of dark dress with a white apron tied around her waist. Her corn silk hair was collected in a bun on the back of her head, but strands of it were falling loose. The kitchen had several lamps burning but it was still quite dark. Beside Lily was a man several inches taller than her. Julia couldn't see his face, as he had his back to her, but she could see he was slender, despite the bulk of the long waxed drover's coat he was wearing. He had his hat on, though he was inside; a black, wide-brimmed hat that reminded Julia of the one she wore when riding on sunny days.

  The man had his left hand around Lily's upper arm. She was pulling away but he held fast. The look on Lily's face was one of mingled annoyance, fear and defiance.

  "Excuse me," Julia said while the door closed behind her. "I'm looking for Mrs. Finnegan." The energy in the room was charged, like a building thunderstorm.

  The man whirled around, startled. He let go of Lily's arm and looked Julia up and down with
a quick flick of his eyes, a male habit that always annoyed her. There had been an angry expression on the man's face as he turned, but it was wiped away so quickly Julia almost thought she'd imagined it.

  The man removed his hat. "Good evening, Miss Thom."

  Julia wasn't sure how he knew her. "Good evening, Mr...?"

  "Cecil. Alan Cecil. I'm Lily's husband." He smiled.

  "Nice to meet you, Mr. Cecil. Hello Lily." Julia looked past the man. "You're working late tonight."

  "Yes, Miss. I'm just finishing up and then Alan and I will head upstairs."

  Julia remembered that Millie Jones had mentioned the Cecil's lived at the hotel. She met his eyes again.

  "You weren't having a go at that poker game, were you?" Cecil grinned at her, his eyes sparkling now.

  "I'm not sure I want to say, Mr. Cecil."

  "Tell us now," Cecil leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed one ankle over the other, "I'll bet you beat the pants off those guys, didn't you?"

  All the hostility around Cecil and Lily was gone. The drover exuded warmth and friendliness. Julia felt herself slightly charmed by his relaxed attitude and roguish grin.

  She smiled back at him. "As a matter of fact, I did."

  Cecil laughed. "Ah! I knew it. You're a smart one, you are. You'd have to be to teach all those little rodents in your classroom. Can't have them getting one up on you, ever, right? They'd mutiny in an instant."

  Julia chuckled, "What kind of a student were you, Mr. Cecil? I bet you caused a bit of trouble in your day."

  "You're spot on, Miss Thom. I turned my teacher's hair white, I did. She was an old battle-ax though. A tough old bird." He laughed again, remembering, "We got up to lots of trouble, we did. Me and my mates. How do you keep your little ones in line with such a pretty face as you've got?"

  Julia blushed slightly, unused to such blunt compliments. She was about to answer when Caroline Finnegan came through the swinging doors from the dining room.

  "Lily!" She seemed surprised. "I thought you'd gone up ages ago."

  "Just leaving now, Mrs. Finnegan. I was waiting for Alan."

  "Right then. Off you go. See you tomorrow."

  Lily untied her apron and shook it gently. She and Alan moved toward the back door and the staircase that Julia had just come down. "Good night," Lily said to Caroline. "Good night, Miss Thom."

  Alan winked at Julia, "If you ever need any help keeping those wee beasties in line, Miss Thom, you let me know. I'll come and knock some sense into them."

  "Thank you, Mr. Cecil. I will."

  Julia nodded at the couple and then they were gone, the door flapping into the frame behind them. Caroline pulled off her apron and hung it on a hook where several others waited. "I thought you'd gone too," she said to Julia. "Did you get what you wanted from those idiots?" She jerked her head toward the second floor, but used the word with fondness.

  "I did," Julia answered. "And," she held her purse aloft and shook it, making the coins within jingle pleasantly, "I made a profit."

  "Good for you!" Caroline seemed genuinely thrilled. "Spend it here, willya? We seem to be bleeding money at the moment."

  "Really? This place is always busy."

  "Aye, there may be bottoms in the seats at all hours, but no one can nurse a drink like this town's citizens. I should implement a three drink minimum or something."

  Julia was sure Caroline was exaggerating. Other than a recently opened tea shop, that was mostly for ladies, Finnegan's restaurant was the only game in town if you wanted a meal other than one you'd cooked yourself. Not to mention the only place in town that served alcohol.

  "How much of that money is Finn's?" Caroline asked, glancing at Julia's purse.

  "A fair bit," Julia couldn't lie. "Your husband has a truly awful poker face."

  Caroline sighed. "You are right about that. But you know the good news?"

  "What?"

  "The poor sod will never be able to cheat on me. I'd know it in a red hot second." She smiled broadly. "He gives himself away even when he takes an extra piece of pie."

  Fifteen

  Julia was distracted the next day at school. Not to mention tired. She'd had trouble falling asleep once she was home. Thoughts about James Hunter and the information the men at the poker game had given her rolled around in her head, giving her what her mother called 'The Whirlies'. Finally, when she heard the clock in the living room strike a quarter past three, she began to drift off.

  But morning had come too soon, and the children, picking up on her vulnerable state, had been restless and unable to focus themselves all day. She had taken them for a walk down to the lake to talk about marine life and erosion, a kind of impromptu science lesson, hoping the fresh air and exercise would settle them down a bit. But when they returned to the classroom to each write a story about what they'd seen or learned, they were more fidgety than ever. The weather had offered a little respite from the downward trend in temperatures, spiking to nearly fifty-nine degrees while they were out. This seemed to just emphasize to the children that they wanted to be outside, not in. She empathized with them; this would likely be the last really mild day until the spring. So finally at 2:30 she let them go. Their astonished little faces rewarded her. She would catch hell from some of the parents who would ask why she was being lenient, but that was fine. If there was one thing she'd learned since starting her job, it was that in the eyes of parents the teacher is nearly always at fault.

  As she closed the door behind her and walked down the front steps, two boys were still playing in the yard, shooting at one another with sticks that stood in for revolvers.

  Julia found Christopher Mitchell manning the store by himself.

  "Good afternoon, Julia," he said when she pushed through the door, though his greeting lacked the usual enthusiasm he held for nearly everything.

  "You look like you've lost your best friend, Christopher."

  "I nearly have," he said, looking morose.

  "What happened?" Julia was growing concerned.

  "You'll have to ask my best friend. She's in the garden." He nodded his head in the direction of the back of the store.

  Julia left without another word and walked behind the counter and outside through the storeroom.

  She spotted Betty in the middle of the large patch of earth that was the store's garden. Growing season was over, but root vegetables and squash were still viable. Betty seemed to be pulling up carrots and beets. There was a large basket with a looped handle on the ground beside her. She angrily tossed a carrot into it as Julia approached.

  "Your husband is in the doghouse, I take it," Julia said as she approached.

  Betty stood up straight, a slightly startled look in her eye. "Oh, Julia. I didn't hear you sneaking up on me."

  "I wasn't sneaking. You were preoccupied."

  She turned back and bent toward the dirt again. "Perhaps."

  Julia had no experience being married, but she knew a marital spat when she saw one. Her parents were both strong-willed and stubborn people. Julia inherited her best qualities - tenacity, intelligence and a self-assuredness from them. And it was also the place where she gleaned her worst characteristics, including the stubbornness that was beginning to be the largest irritant for Constable Merrick. Julia never mediated with her parents, even as she got older. She didn't feel it was her place to do so, plus she knew she would almost invariably side with her father, who was her best friend. Julia and her mother were too close in temperament to be anything but adversaries, and by the time Julia was about ten years old, they'd forged a mutual silent agreement to leave each other alone.

  So Julia didn't feel equipped or inclined to step into whatever was causing disharmony in the Mitchell household. However, what she did know was that Betty Mitchell was her closest friend, and someone she could trust and rely on, even though they'd known each other for less than two months. Betty and Christopher were both good people and even this early on, Julia would have done almost anything for
either of them. So she said the one thing her Aunt Ruby used to say when Julia was bent out of shape about something. It was the best thing anyone had ever said to her in such circumstances and it came to her now, though she had not seen or spoken to her Aunt in several years.

  "Tell me about it," Julia said, and she tried to adopt the neutral and compassionate tone Aunt Ruby used.

  "Oh, Julia," Betty threw another carrot violently into the basket. It bounced off the basket's rim and landed in the dirt. "Christopher is trying to bankrupt us. He's practically given away the store."

  "What? How?"

  "Maybe not the store." Betty backpedaled a bit. "But most of the inventory." She looked away toward the hills to the west that bordered the town, tears glistening in her eyes. "You know what a soft heart he has. He lets people run up credit and never asks them to pay. Now that we've been here nearly a year, people are learning to take advantage of him. And word gets around."

  Julia touched her friend's arm in sympathy.

  Betty continued, "Yesterday, when I was in the back making lunch he had a rancher in here who is new to the area. This fellow ran up forty dollars of credit. Christopher had never met the man before!" She threw her hands up in the air in a gesture of frustration. "We'll probably never see the man again, so Christopher essentially gave him two months of supplies. Forty dollars!"

  "Oh, dear."

  "And the worst part of it is, he knows it's the wrong thing to do. He feels bad about it afterward and then he hides what he's done. He hides the credit slips and I've had no idea how bad the situation is. But in the moment, his soft heart gets the better of him, and he just offers to help out any Joe who comes into the store."

  "He's embarrassed that people are taking advantage of him."

  "Damn right he is." Julia had never heard Betty swear before. She tucked her chin into her neck to hide her smile. "And he should be. Do you know how much credit he's extended in the past eight months?"