He smiled broadly when he made his way out of the saloon where his room was. This was a pleasant little town and the streets were alive with activity. He tipped his bowler hat as two ladies smiled, passed him and made their way to a nearby dress shop. Riders on horses took their mounts to the livery and let them roam in a large corral at the end of town. A motor car chugged from one end of the street, past him and on out of town. He made his way down the sidewalk to the bustling mercantile and watched wagons being loaded with goods before crossing the street to see what else the little town had to offer. A lumber office, Mayor's Office and infirmary were all busy and very professional from the outside. The barber shop was closed for the day. The café was bustling with activity. Too much activity for his satisfaction. His interest was piqued in the small door next to the café. The door was closed but he could see someone working at a table near the window. He studied the inside through the glass in the door and smiled. Shelves with books! He'd found a treasure in this little town.
The woman at the table looked up from her writing as he pushed the door open.
"Hello," he smiled brightly and tipped his hat. She scowled at him.
"We're not open for lending yet," she said sharply. "As you can see, I've still boxes of books to catalogue. Now go along." He looked around and smiled broadly.
"Tis a fine establishment you have here, madame," he said happily. "I won't disturb your books if you would allow me the pleasure of the peace and quiet in here. Your café is rollicking at the moment and the White Stallion Saloon where my room is…well….." She checked him over from the tips of his polished shoes to the striped pants and red vest he wore under a tread bare black jacket. He whipped off his hat and pulled a snowy handkerchief out of his pocket and swiped it across his bald head as he waited. He met her examining gaze with brown eyes that crinkled at the corners and topped with craggy gray brows. He tipped his head slightly and grinned.
"There's a chair in the back you can rest in for a bit," she sighed and then pointed her pen at him. "Just don't bother me."
"Thank you, Madame," he replied brightly. "I be William Jeanette. And you are?" She hesitated as she studied his happy face.
"Myra," she said finally. "Myra McCormick." He frowned a bit and then returned her gaze intently.
"Myra?" he said. "That may be what folks call you but I be thinking ye were born with a different name." Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened a bit.
"My husband called me by Myra," she said quietly. "But my parents named me….Mirabelle. How did you know?" The old man grinned broadly.
"Ah….that's better," he said happily. "You look more like a Mirabelle." She watched as he made his way around the crates of boxes and shelves to the back of the little room.
"Mirabelle McCormick," he rolled the name over his tongue with satisfaction. "Mirabelle…" He sat down in the wooden chair near the back window and winked when he noticed her watching him curiously through the empty shelves. She straightened quickly and went back to her books and cards.
As he settled more comfortably in the chair by the window, he closed his eyes. The afternoon sun flooded through the window warming his little corner. It was peaceful and quiet. Just as he sought. He listened to the scratching of her pen, the very slight scrape of it against the inkwell when she dipped for more ink and almost dozed off. Then the door open again. He opened one eye and smiled as a pretty child stepped inside.
"Hello," a little girl said politely as she stood in front of the table piled with books and cards.
"We're not open for book borrowing yet," Mrs. McCormick said sternly.
"I know," the child replied. "Mrs. Thornton said I was to come and introduce myself to you and tell you that I am going to be the library helper this week. I'm Anna Hayford." She smiled and held out her hand. Mrs. McCormick ignored the offered hand and leaned forward on her elbows. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the little blonde in front of her.
"You get in trouble in school or something?" she asked. Anna shook her head and tucked her hand into the pocket of her dress.
"No ma'am," she said. "I wanted to be the first helper. So did Emily. But Laura said she's scared of you."
"That Laura sounds like she is pretty smart," Mrs. McCormick sneered. "Honest. That's important."
"My teacher says honesty is very important," the little girl said as she ran a finger along the leather bindings on the book in front of her. "So do my parents but I can't figure it out exactly."
"How so," Hazel asked as she sat back in her chair. A perplexed frown crossed Anna's face.
"They always want you to tell the truth but sometimes when you do it makes them mad," she said.
"Are you speaking from experience in this matter?" the older woman asked.
"Well, I once told Cody that Mrs. Stanton wasn't the same as a real mother," Anna explained. "But now she is because she adopted Cody and Becky so it's the same."
"It's better." Anna's frown deepened at the older woman's words and she looked at her for an explanation. Mrs. McCormick shrugged her shoulders.
"When you were born your parents were stuck with you," she said bluntly. "Mrs. Stanton, that little boy and his sister got to choose each other."
"I never thought about it like that, "Anna replied thoughtfully.
"And did you get into trouble for saying that to him?" Anna rolled her eyes and nodded.
"I had to clean the chicken coop by myself," she said. "For a whole month!" The older woman suppressed a smile and roughly cleared her throat.
"Well, you'd best be getting on home now," she said brusquely. "Your mother will be wondering where you are."
"Can I come back tomorrow?" Anna asked as she headed toward the door. "I can help you put books away." Mrs. McCormick waved her away with a frown and Anna grinned as she opened the door and left. She looked at the back of the library as William laughed heartily.
"Ah, dear Mrs. McCormick," he chuckled. "It pleases you to know that you frighten small children?"
"When they need to be put in their place," she murmured as she picked up the pen again.
"And it would please...me...if you were to join me for a light dinner at the café next door," he said blithely. "After all, you are my first friend in this delightful little town. I may settle here. It's nice to know that this is a place where the most horrible punishment is to have to clean the chicken coop by one's self. For a whole month." Myra looked up and met his laughing eyes with a chuckle of her own. He held out his hand. She glanced down at it and then the frown returned.
"Mrs. Stanton usually brings me supper when it slows down there," she said. "I have work to do." William's face fell and then he straightened the hat on his head.
"I think I shall lend a hand in this matter," he said as he nodded in farewell. "Dear Mirabelle." He opened the door and was gone. She craned to look out the window to see where strange man was headed and then shook her head as she went back to work on the pile of books on her desk.
The café next door was indeed still busy. Every table was full. William studied the two women who were waiting tables and settled on the older one. Abigail smiled when he waved and caught her eye. He was a happy, pleasant looking customer and she'd had her fill of impatience. She listened to his whispered words and then smiled even wider. She went back to the kitchen and came back with a small basket of food covered with a napkin. He reached in his pocket and peeled off a bill from his money clip. Abigail tried to refuse it but was drawn away by an insistent patron at one of the tables. She tucked the money in her apron pocket and sighed heavily. The man grinned and leaned forward to whisper something in her ear. Abigail's mouth dropped open and she stared after him in astonishment. He tapped his hat with a finger and his eyes twinkled as he left with the basket.
"Abigail," Elizabeth asked from a nearby table where she sat with her baby on her lap. "Who was that?"
"He's taking dinner to Mrs. McCormick for me," Abigail said as she turned, bent down and chucked the cheek of the baby watching her.
"But what did he just say to you?" her friend asked worriedly. Abigail glanced from the baby's delightfully drooly grin to Elizabeth and chuckled softly.
"He just said," she replied in surprised wonderment, "that the circus is coming to town."
