Kristin, the man at her table, and Cletus, were all that remained. The only sound in the room was the rattle of pans and the clink of dishes as the cook washed them and passed them to Bonnie to dry and place on the shelves behind the counter.
To Kristin the silence was deep and somehow . . . threatening. Instinctively she knew the tension between Bonnie and the cook had something to do with the man who sat at her table. Each time she glanced at him, his eyes were on Bonnie. Kristin wanted to go and yet she wanted to stay and talk more with Cletus and maybe get to know Bonnie.
Just when her excuses to linger were running out, the man stood and went to the peg on the wall where he had left his hat. He was tall, slender and nearly dressed. He placed a coin on the counter, and when Bonnie did not turn to face him, he went to the door where, with hat in hand, he looked back at her.
“Good-bye, Bonnie,” he said just before he went out. He stood in front of the restaurant for a moment, then carefully put his hat on his head and walked down the walk toward the hotel.
The man behind the counter spun around. Kristin heard a loud thump, thump, thump just before he broke into a spate of angry words.
“That cold-eyed son of a bitch! He never took his eyes off you all the time he was in here.”
“So what?” Bonnie retorted. “Looks can’t hurt me.”
“He’ll hurt you! He’s not giving up. How long’s it been? Six months? Eight?”
When the cook came from behind the counter, Kristin realized that the thumping sound she had heard was the end of a peg on the wooden floor. The knee of the man’s left leg rested in the cradle of a peg held by straps wrapped about his thigh and the stump extended out behind. The thumps sounded again as he came around to pick up the money left by the cold-eyed man.
“Mother a Christ! A dollar for a fifteen-cent meal.” He dropped the coin back on the counter. “I wonder who he killed to get it.”
“Bernie, calm down.” Bonnie brought the coffeepot and refilled Cletus’s cup. “Would you like more coffee, miss?”
“No, thank you. I’m killing time. I hope you don’t mind. By the way, do you know where I can hire a buckboard and a driver to take me out to Larkspur?”
A deathly quiet followed her words as the woman and two men looked at one another. The one-legged man finally answered.
“You’ll just be asking for trouble if you try to go out there, ma’am. They’ll not let you keep the Larkspur!” Bernie spun around easily on the peg and dropped the dollar in a tin under the counter.
Bonnie looked pained. “No use trying to be polite, Miss Anderson. Everybody in town knows who you are and why you’re here. I’m Bonnie Gates and this hotheaded blabbermouth is my brother, my twin, Bernie Gates.”
“I’m happy to meet you. And please don’t apologize. I’m from a town not much larger than Big Timber. I’m used to everyone’s knowing everyone else’s business. Did you know my uncle?”
“We didn’t. We haven’t been here a year. Cletus knew him.”
“Nice a man as ya’d want to meet,” Cletus said. “I hadn’t seen him for a couple a years when all this happened. Never believed a bit of it.”
“Never believed . . . what?”
“Wal . . . that Yarby’d do anything . . . wrong.”
“I don’t remember ever seeing my uncle. But it was wonderfully kind of him to remember me in his will. I want to see Larkspur. I’ve never owned anything in my life and never dreamed that I would.” Her eyes shone and her full mouth tilted at the corners. “I want to walk on my own land and to know that I have a place on this earth that’s mine.”
Bonnie came and sat down beside Kristin. Pain and disappointment were stamped on her face as she looked at her brother, then turned to Kristin.
“It must be a grand feeling to own your own place with nobody to tell you to get out. Bernie and I always wanted a little place. Almost had one . . . once.”
“I hope Mr.
To Kristin the silence was deep and somehow . . . threatening. Instinctively she knew the tension between Bonnie and the cook had something to do with the man who sat at her table. Each time she glanced at him, his eyes were on Bonnie. Kristin wanted to go and yet she wanted to stay and talk more with Cletus and maybe get to know Bonnie.
Just when her excuses to linger were running out, the man stood and went to the peg on the wall where he had left his hat. He was tall, slender and nearly dressed. He placed a coin on the counter, and when Bonnie did not turn to face him, he went to the door where, with hat in hand, he looked back at her.
“Good-bye, Bonnie,” he said just before he went out. He stood in front of the restaurant for a moment, then carefully put his hat on his head and walked down the walk toward the hotel.
The man behind the counter spun around. Kristin heard a loud thump, thump, thump just before he broke into a spate of angry words.
“That cold-eyed son of a bitch! He never took his eyes off you all the time he was in here.”
“So what?” Bonnie retorted. “Looks can’t hurt me.”
“He’ll hurt you! He’s not giving up. How long’s it been? Six months? Eight?”
When the cook came from behind the counter, Kristin realized that the thumping sound she had heard was the end of a peg on the wooden floor. The knee of the man’s left leg rested in the cradle of a peg held by straps wrapped about his thigh and the stump extended out behind. The thumps sounded again as he came around to pick up the money left by the cold-eyed man.
“Mother a Christ! A dollar for a fifteen-cent meal.” He dropped the coin back on the counter. “I wonder who he killed to get it.”
“Bernie, calm down.” Bonnie brought the coffeepot and refilled Cletus’s cup. “Would you like more coffee, miss?”
“No, thank you. I’m killing time. I hope you don’t mind. By the way, do you know where I can hire a buckboard and a driver to take me out to Larkspur?”
A deathly quiet followed her words as the woman and two men looked at one another. The one-legged man finally answered.
“You’ll just be asking for trouble if you try to go out there, ma’am. They’ll not let you keep the Larkspur!” Bernie spun around easily on the peg and dropped the dollar in a tin under the counter.
Bonnie looked pained. “No use trying to be polite, Miss Anderson. Everybody in town knows who you are and why you’re here. I’m Bonnie Gates and this hotheaded blabbermouth is my brother, my twin, Bernie Gates.”
“I’m happy to meet you. And please don’t apologize. I’m from a town not much larger than Big Timber. I’m used to everyone’s knowing everyone else’s business. Did you know my uncle?”
“We didn’t. We haven’t been here a year. Cletus knew him.”
“Nice a man as ya’d want to meet,” Cletus said. “I hadn’t seen him for a couple a years when all this happened. Never believed a bit of it.”
“Never believed . . . what?”
“Wal . . . that Yarby’d do anything . . . wrong.”
“I don’t remember ever seeing my uncle. But it was wonderfully kind of him to remember me in his will. I want to see Larkspur. I’ve never owned anything in my life and never dreamed that I would.” Her eyes shone and her full mouth tilted at the corners. “I want to walk on my own land and to know that I have a place on this earth that’s mine.”
Bonnie came and sat down beside Kristin. Pain and disappointment were stamped on her face as she looked at her brother, then turned to Kristin.
“It must be a grand feeling to own your own place with nobody to tell you to get out. Bernie and I always wanted a little place. Almost had one . . . once.”
“I hope Mr.
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