Chapter three

"Did you hear the news?" Kitty asked. "Matt's officially offered Festus the job of deputy." Kitty refreshed Lori's coffee and sat the blue and white china pot on the side table. It was a pleasure to enjoy a cup of coffee over chit chat. Time and work prevented the two women from getting to know one another. So when Kitty saw Lori stroll into the saloon, carpet bag in hand, she brewed a fresh pot and whisked Lori upstairs.

Lori sipped out of the china cup admiring the surroundings. Kitty's taste mirrored her own, elegant and refined. The room boasted furniture of rich, hard woods adorned in lush upholstery. Carpets ran along floorboards, light, airy wallpaper brightened the walls, and red draperies teased in bullion fringe hung at the windows allowing the morning sun to filter in. Lori decided her new friend needed one of Mrs. Edmonds' cats to take advantage of the sun spots. A wry smile teased at the corners of Lori's mouth, and she wondered if Kitty had ever seen the inside of a dirt clod.

"Is the smile for the news about Festus or something else?"

Lori felt her cheeks color. "I apologize for my obvious behavior. Kitty, I'll share a secret with you. You have the most beautiful room I've seen in quite some time. This is a palace compared to George's hovel. But," she shook off the comparison, "I am glad to hear the news about Festus. He seems like a nice man. By the way, what happened to the deputy I met – the one who introduced me to the charming Moss Grimmick?"

"Chad Brewster was found shot dead." Kitty put the words straight out. No use mincing ugliness.

"Oh how horrible," Lori gasped. "Chad Brewster – I never knew his last name. The day we met, we only shook hands and exchanged a few pleasantries. Do you know what happened?"

"All I know is Matt found his body after the storm the other night. When Chad didn't show up for work, Matt rode out looking for him – found him face down on the prairie. From what Matt says, it appears the rain washed away any sign. I know Matt though and whoever killed Chad is running on borrowed time. Now, I have something to ask you. Lori, what's the real reason you've shown up lugging a carpet bag in tow?" Kitty paused and wryly added, "Running away?"

"Oh you heard about Billy's slingshot." Lori watched Kitty's eyes sparkle at the mention of Billy's escapade. If only the rest of the town sparkled at the mention of the Durant children. "The answer is no. I'm not running away," she said conscious of the items in her carpet bag. Lori forced a surge of regret down her throat. She never dreamed she'd part with her emerald taffeta or her peach organdy. She bought them on holiday in New York. The peach exuded a stylish, cosmopolitan flare. The emerald drew out Lori's vanity. Men had been known to lay their bodies across mud puddles when she wore it, begging her to walk over them – metaphorically speaking of course.

"I'm here on a mission," Lori sighed. "After a stern self examination, I've come to the conclusion that good taste is my lone talent. The almighty blessed me with an uncanny ability to single out the best couturiers on any seaboard. And however high that quality might rank in Baltimore, on the western plains it's about as useful as a third thumb and twice as embarrassing."

Kitty studied the young women in front of her and liked what she saw. Lori Durant had grit. It took grit to give up eastern luxuries for a dirt farm and four orphans. Granted not a lot of common sense, but Lori had a brain and Kitty figured life was stretching her capacity for rational thought.

Lori sat her coffee cup on the side table. "Kitty I never once thought I'd wear George's old army trousers or worse yet, like them. For three years straight I've made the best customer list of the finest Baltimore and New York Couturiers." She rested a hand on her throat and chuckled. "If Mrs. Edmonds knew about my current mode of dress, she'd be thrown into a fit of the vapors. Cleo on the other hand would douse herself in holy water and chant wild incantations."

"I'm from New Orleans. I understand all about wild incantations." Kitty smiled. She liked the sound of Lori's chuckle. It was light and dainty; a far cry from the five feet of grit ensconced in the petticoats and bustle.

"You are! Oh that's wonderful. Cleo, Mrs. Edmonds companion, lived there until the start of the war. So you understand about," Lori lowered her voice to a whisper, "voodoo."

"Lori we're sitting over a saloon, in my bedroom drinking coffee. I think you can say the word voodoo without whispering."

"I guess you have a point," Lori agreed. "Kitty I've met people in Dodge, but you're the only female who has taken the time to befriend me. I don't suppose women understand-"

"Oh for goodness sake," Kitty said giving into exasperation. "Lori men talk. And the more they drink the better the stories. I hear the gossip, and what it all boils down to is the women in this town think you're off your nut."

"Oooooh…." Lori grated as a mental image of Mrs. Edmonds swirled before her eyes. "Off my nut? Well at least I don't own fifteen cats and take to by bed-"

"Honey think about it. You're a lone woman living on the prairie raising four orphaned children. You scoff at anything domestic and spend money like you had a gold mine for a root cellar. And don't bother to deny it because I've seen you in action."

"I'm broke." The words flew out of Lori's mouth and tears puddled in the corners of her eyes. She stood and began to pace the room. "It's true," she said to the look of shock on Kitty's face. "Mr. Archer explained it all. Mrs. Edmonds put my money into some very risky schemes. There was barely enough to discharge George's debts. In addition, it appears my dear departed brother mortgaged the farm and left me to pay off the note."

Kitty handed Lori a kerchief. "Why don't you sell?"

"I almost wish I could. The children have lost their parents; I can't take their home away too. So, I'm holding onto the farm regardless of how much I despise living in a dirt clod," Lori whimpered and blew her nose.

Kitty knitted her brows in confusion. "Dirt clod? Oh you must mean George's Soddy," she said and laughed. "Lori you're a corker. Okay, you don't sell. What's next and does it have anything to do with your carpet bag?"

Lori wiped the overflow off her cheeks and composed her emotions. "Well yes it does," she said lifting the bag off the floor. "I'd ask if you'd be interested in a Sheffield's of New York creation, but Kitty excellent taste is always recognizable." Lori reached into the bag and removed the carefully folded dress.

Kitty admired the garment and appraised Lori's form. "We're about the same size so that's good." The women progressed across the room to a full length dressing mirror and examined Kitty's reflection. "Sheffield's you say? It's pretty enough." Kitty pulled the dress tighter against her body studying the effect. "I can usually wear peach, but this has too much beige and not enough color. What do you think?"

Lori scrunched her features. It was plain Kitty didn't care for the peach. She didn't either, at least not on Kitty. "As much as I need to sell it, I agree. You'll do better with a burst of color around your face, something more dramatic."

"What I really need is new stockings. And you still haven't answered my question. What are you going to do about money? Selling your best dresses is a rather self limiting line of work."

Lori nodded. "Stockings first. I have a pair of embroidered ones from Paris. They will go splendidly with the dress you have on." Lori fished through her carpet bag. "Regarding money, I've asked Mr. Archer for an extension on the bank note. He's promised to let me know by the end of next week. I guess he's busy helping his wife with a barn dance. Here we go," she said handing Kitty the stockings.

"It's the 4th of July dance." Kitty ran a finger over the embroidery. "And I'm in charge of cakes. You planning on coming?"

"Doubt I'll be in the mood for dancing. I do have a few apples left and I'd be happy to donate them for a cake or pie."

"Thanks. I'll count on it. Now say Archer turns you down, what then?"

"Even if Archer grants me the extension, I plan to approach Dell Kendrick with a business proposition."

Kitty gave Lori a puzzled look. "You haven't been into doc's laudanum have you?"

Lori sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I realize Kendrick's goal is to gain possession of the farm. My plan is to offer him a lease. Frankly, it's a perfect solution: we keep ownership of the land; he gets the use of it."

"Dell's a hard man to stop when he wants something, and he wants your farm. Of course you know that."

Butterflies nicked across Lori's stomach. "A hard man to stop? I hadn't thought of him in those terms before." Lori prided herself on honesty. And it was true she hadn't thought of the man in those terms.

Kitty leaned forward and gave Lori a knowing look. "In what terms have you thought of him?"

A disturbing image of indigo blue eyes, wide shoulders and a gun belt slung low over narrow hips assaulted Lori's senses. Feeling her cheeks flame, she said, "Should things get desperate, I'll mortgage the wheat. If things get really desperate, I'll send a wire to Cleo and ask her to put a voodoo hex on both Kendrick and Archer."

Kitty laughed.

"What's so funny? I am serious! You should have seen Brett and the boys when I told them we were flat broke. They wanted to conk that skunk Kendrick over the head, nail him inside of a crate and put him on the mail train for Indian Territory. Those monsters got the idea out of, The Waco Kid Saves The Denver Mail Run."

"You've got to be kidding," Kitty sputtered.

"Cross my heart and hope to never be broke again a day in my life." Lori gave her friend a half smile. "Ah Kitty I know I've led an unconventional existence. Pampered too."

"Yes."

"You don't have to be so quick to agree."

"Let me see what else you have in the bag."

"Kitty," Lori's cheeks took on a pinkish hue. "this one's been known to make men prostrate themselves at my feet."

"Pretty stiff claim, can you back it up?"

Lori cocked a pert eyebrow. "Its emerald taffeta."

Matt knelt and studied the ground searching for anything he might have missed. A slight indentation remained in the earth where he discovered Chad Brewster's body. Matt sifted through the dirt and brought a handful to his nose and then tossed it away. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sunlight glinting off a metal object. It was Chad's pocket watch wedged between rock and gravel. Matt flipped the item over in his hands searching for anything he could use as a lead. There was a dent in the fob, and Matt noted that Bellingham's out of St. Louis was the manufacturer. Squinting against the glare of the sun, he cursed his luck and reverted to a tactic he often used when leads were scarce. The lawman put himself in the boots of the killer.

From a low bluff to the west, Quint spied Matt's buckskin and spurred his bay into a high lope. "Howdy Matt," Quint said reining his mount. "Thought that might be you." He patted the stamping animal's neck calming it. "Turn up anything?"

Matt smiled at the deer tied over Quint's saddle. "Looks like you've had some luck. Wish I could say the same." Throwing a nod to the spot where he found the deputy, Matt said, "I came across Chad's pocket watch. What I really need is a motive. Sure would make this a sight easier."

"Chad had some poker winnings. Are they missing?"

Matt shook his head. "All accounted for. And with his pocket watch found, I've ruled out robbery as a motive."

"Maybe it was personal?"

"Possible. Though, I haven't been able to find anybody who had cause to hurt Chad. The way I figure things is he rode out here to meet someone he trusted. And when Chad turned his back, the killer fired a bullet into his head. Chad never saw it coming."

"Doc said the bullet was from a .45."

"Yep," Matt said his voice drenched in disgust. "Now how many men in Dodge do you suppose carry a .45?"

Quint dismounted and studied the landscape. It was an unremarkable stretch of prairie, covered in grasses and yucca plants. He bent over and sifted through the earth allowing the wind to fan it out over the prairie. After a few moments of quiet thinking he stood. "I've met loners out here from time to time. Men who stay away from civilization – hate it. Have you given consideration to a loner doing it?"

Matt's response was to dip his Stetson lower to shield the sun.

"Matt about now I'd lay odds your killer is headed south to Oklahoma, Texas maybe. I'd doubt he'd stick around here and wait to be discovered."

Matt slowly shook his head. "Don't ask me why, but my gut tells me it was somebody Chad knew. Somebody who feels safe right now. No tracks, no sign; no evidence to make an arrest, and the killer knows it. I'm riding over to Lori Durant's – ask some questions. Care to join me?"

"Planned on it." Quint tightened the straps holding the carcass to his saddle. "I heard about Lori's troubles and figured she could probably use some fresh meat."

"So that's what brings you out here today."

Quint's voice sobered, "The Durant place isn't far off."

Matt grimaced at the thought of Lori Durant, alone with four children facing down a killer. He shook his head. "Dell Kendrick's ranch is closer. Dell told me he hasn't come across anything out of the ordinary. I asked him to keep an eye on the Durant's for awhile. Said it was tough duty but he'd do his best."

"I just bet he will. He figures he owns their farm already."

"Well Quint I sort of wish Lori would hurry up and lose the place and go back east. Sure would make my job a heck of a lot easier."

Quint grinned. "Billy's sling shot."

"Yeah." Matt tightened the cinch on his buckskin. "When we get back to Dodge, we can flip a coin to see who buys the first round."

"I don't see why Archer won't give us more time," Brett reasoned. "But if he don't, we still got the wheat. You ain't gonna talk to Kendrick."

Lori took a sudsy hand and rubbed her forehead wishing for a cool breeze. Working the cricks out of her back she bent over the washboard and dunked the shirt into the lukewarm water. "Brett let's discuss Dell Kendrick later on this evening when its cool."

"Fine, but my mind is made up."

"Normal condition for members of this family," Lori said heaping on the sarcasm.

Billy tossed a dried buffalo chip into the air and pretended to shoot it down using his index finger and fist as a six gun. "I still say we conk Kendrick over the head and ship 'em off to Ingin territory. Then we can take that old banker and tie him to the railroad tracks."

Lori put her hands on her hips. "I thought I told you to go gather the eggs. Now quit playing with buffalo droppings and go do as you are told."

"Aunt Lori can I ask you a question?"

Lori flung her arm in the direction of the chicken coop and shook her index finger at it for emphasis. "Billy I've told you five times already, so git-I mean get." Lori bit her lip. Like her mode of dress, her speech was developing a prairie twang.

"Aunt Lori you sure you don't have jerky bones? You always throw your arms out something fierce, 'specially when you holler. The only time you don't throw your arms is when you're rubbin yer forehead like ya had a tumor or something. You got a tumor? I asked Doc about tumors but he didn't wanna talk on account of not having time for typhoons in britches. What's a typhoon? They related to those Curriers over in Comanche County? The Marshall keeps talking 'bout stringing them Curriers up."

Brett spied the throbbing in his aunt's temple. Billy couldn't help it, he just naturally irritated people, so Brett figured he better step in before Lori dunked Billy in the laundry tub and held his head under. "Come on Billy. I'll help you with the eggs. Aunt Lori what about the smoked pork? You want it for tonight's supper or you wanna save it for later?"

"Let's try and save it. Are you going to check on the wheat today?"

"No ma'am. I plan on working it later in the week. I got some ideas on fixing the barn's weak beam. Need to git 'er done."

"Good. Then I won't bother you to check on Ceilia. I'll send Bobby when he gets back with the rinse water."

Brett took his brother by the hand and headed for the barn. Billy turned back and suggested instead of crating Kendrick, it might be more fun to tie the skunk on the tracks next to the rotten banker or sting 'em up with them Curriers and Typhoons. Brett playfully mussed the child's hair and drug him by the arm. Lori rolled her eyes and scrubbed the shirt against the sides of the wash board.

Bobby rounded the side of the house sloshing his way to the cottonwood tree where Lori scrubbed the wash. She pointed to a spot beside the washtub and directed Bobby to set the rinse water there. "Thanks," she said and rinsed the shirt.

"I gotta ask you a question Aunt Lori."

"If it has to do with Mr. Jonas's hand lotion, you're asking for another afternoon cleaning out the chicken coop."

Bobby hung his head. Billy swore his sling shot needed greasing and Jonas's stuff fit the ticket. He also swore Aunt Lori would never find out. Well she did and their punishment was a fate worse than death. "That smelly chicken coop still gives me nightmares," he said kicking at the ground.

"Stay away from my expensive hand lotion."

"Aunt Lori, what was Baltimore like? Do you miss it? I mean, think you'll ever go back?"

"Well I can't since Mrs. Edmond's turned her house into a cat sanctuary. You know that."

"Yeah, but is Baltimore real different than Kansas? Do you have a lot more friends back there?"

Lori clipped the shirt on the rope line to dry. "Bobby my life is here. Baltimore hardly ever crosses my mind anymore."

"You sold your favorite green dress to Miss. Kitty. Maybe you wanna get money to go back instead of pay off the bank."

"Why would I do such a thing?"

"On account of you used to have stuffed chairs and junk and now you hafta live in a dirt clod. On account of you hafta wear pa's army pants and back in Baltimore you got to wear new dresses all the way from Paris France. We're not as good as Paris France."

"You're right," Lori said. "You're not as good as Paris France." Gathering Bobby into a playful hug, she whispered in his ear, "You're a million times better."

"I picked some wild flowers for you." Bobby felt his voice muffled by Lori's shoulder. He liked it. Even sweaty she smelled like her honeysuckle soap. "I put 'em in the coffee pot and filled it with water. I figured it'd be okay since we ran out of coffee. And there's not even any bees in this batch so ya don't hafta worry 'bout getting stung."

"That's fine." Lori smiled and brushed a golden tuft of hair out of his eyes. "Bobby, I have something to say to you and I want you to listen because it's important. The day I left Baltimore I vowed never to go back. As far as I'm concerned, Paris France can go jump off a cliff."

"But you hate the Soddy and the wind and pigs. And you like pretty dresses and frilly things. On account of us you had to sell your frilliest junk."

"Honey, life teaches lessons; sometimes those lessons hurt. But if you learn, you grow and become a better person. It's true, I don't like the Soddy very much, but its ours. Do you know what happened the day we all got covered in whitewash?"

Bobby shook his head.

"That was the day we became a family."

"Not Brett. He's gonna run you off just as soon as we take care of Kendrick."

Lori frowned. "Bobby do you remember the scripture verse about Ruth?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of? I can see we need less Waco Kid and more scripture." Lori sat down on the ground and crossed her legs. She patted a spot and Bobby plopped down beside her. Clearing her throat, she quoted from memory hoping it was correct. "Ruth said: Wither thou goest, I will go; Wither thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people."

"What's it mean?"

"It means I traded Baltimore for Kansas. This is my home now. And my people are four special children. Each one owns a piece of my heart, but I'm especially fond of the one who picks me flowers for no special reason."

Bobby crushed Lori in a tight hug. "I love you Aunt Lori. Please don't ever go away."

"Last thing I'll ever do," Lori cooed into his hair.

"Hey Aunt Lori looks like we got visitors," Brett called from the barn. "I think it's the Marshall."