Title: Stone Soup
Author: Aimee DuPré, copyright January, 2006
Chapter: Act Three
Comments to: feedback to the list or to my email address, new scenes, new story, new characters
Rating: PG -- This story may contain some mild violence.
Pairing: none (of original series' characters)
Spoilers: The story contains references to another short story by the author, Stone Cold Heart.
Archive: Yes, at http/ http/tv.groups. and at author's website, http/aimee-dupre. NOTE: Author's website includes pictures from the original series.
Summary: How can a collectible pistol and a calculating invention bring two distrustful conspirators together? The lawyer with a swindler's past could give the passionate widow everything – his hopes, his dreams, his secret thoughts. But could she trust him? Only U. S. Marshal Jared Stone can show them they are after the same things: justice . . . and love.
Warnings: This story contains some mild violence and veiled references to sex.
Disclaimer: The characters in the story (with the exception of new characters created by Aimee DuPré) are the sole property of Peacemakers, USA Networks, and in association with Michael R. Joyce Production. This is a work of fan fiction that intends no infringement on copyright or trademark.
New Characters: New characters created by Aimee DuPré include Mrs. Emily Jordan (Katie Owens' aunt), Mr. Elliott Stone (Jared Stone's cousin), and Tevis Carver, Bank President, and are the sole property of Aimee DuPré, copyright January, 2006.
Author's Notes: none
Stone Soup
By Aimee DuPré
Copyright January, 2006
Act Three
Katie busied herself in the mortuary's prep room. The onslaught of inclement weather continued, and the deceptive gray skies belied the time of day. Spirits were as sodden as the townsfolk.
Emily came in to help her.
"How I wish the sun would shine," she said.
"I can't remember when I had dry feet," Katie laughed.
Emily broke out in song, "It's raining, it's pouring; the old man is snoring." She looked at Katie tenderly. "Do you remember your grandmother teaching you that song?"
"A little. Your mama had a beautiful voice."
"And a beautiful touch on the piano, although by the time you came along she didn't play any longer."
"You know, that reminds me," Katie mentioned. "Have you met Jared's cousin, Elliott?"
"I haven't had the pleasure of making his acquaintance."
Katie smiled. "Oh, it's a pleasure, all right. He is so charming and debonair, he makes Larimer Finch look like a backwoodsman."
"Is Elliott Stone as handsome as his cousin?"
"Yes. Quite," Katie agreed, adding, "for an older man."
"Are you interested?" Emily asked her.
"Oh, no; although I did admit once to Jared that I had a penchant for older men. You should have seen his face!" Katie laughed. "He must have thought I was attracted to him."
"And you are, aren't you?"
"Maybe a little, but mostly as a friend. You know, he treats me as an equal. He doesn't look down on me for wanting to be a doctor, or for coming home to run Father's business. And he doesn't try to put me on a pedestal, either, thinking I need a man's protection to survive. Oh, he's protective of me, but it's in a fatherly way. I just wish . . ." she stopped mid sentence.
"What do you wish, Katie?"
Just then there was a knock at the door, and the two jumped, startled. They turned to the window to see Marshal Stone and Detective Finch. The younger man held a leather pouch close to his chest, and Katie went to let them in.
"Katie, Miss Emily," Stone said as he took his hat off and held it by his side. Finch nodded and inquisitively peered around Katie trying to get a look at the prep room equipment.
"Something wrong, marshal?" Katie asked, ignoring Finch.
"No, no. Nothin' wrong. I was wonderin' . . ." he hesitated, fumbling with the brim of his hat. "We need to speak to your Aunt Emily in private. Would that be okay?"
Emily went towards him. "Katie was just cleaning up. We can sit and talk in the parlor."
Stone's eyes widened and he looked nervous, so Emily reassured him, "There's not a body in there right now, Marshal."
Stone breathed a sigh of relief. Death had always made him uncomfortable, and it seemed all the Owens women were quite the opposite.
She led the way and let the two men sit on the floral sofa while she sat opposite them in a chair.
"Could I offer you some refreshments? Coffee? Cookies?"
Finch sat up straighter. "What kind of cookies?" he asked.
Stone punched him in the ribs with his elbow and gave him a stern look.
"I heard she makes great cookies, Marshal," he explained.
"We don't have time for refreshments this afternoon, Mrs. Jordan," the lawman said formally. "Finch wanted to tell you what he's discovered."
"About the promissory note?" Emily asked.
Finch pulled papers from the leather pouch.
"You see, Mrs. Jordan," he began, and leaned closer to her, holding the papers out. She was still too far away to see them plainly. Finch fumbled some until Stone moved over on the sofa and motioned for Emily to sit between them.
"You see," Finch continued. "There is your brother's signature on this deed you gave me. You said you know it's his signature. And here on tracing paper is your brother's signature on the bank's promissory note that Carver showed you. I got it from the bank clerk, unbeknownst to Carver."
Finch placed the tracing paper over the signature on the deed. They matched.
"So he did sign the note," Emily said, dejected, and she sighed.
"Not so fast," Finch said. "Notice anything suspicious about the signatures?"
"Not really," she said, looking closer. "They match precisely."
"That's suspicious," Stone said, irritated at Finch for dragging it out. "Finch says no one signs his name that consistently."
"So," Finch interrupted. "I surmise your brother's signature has been forged onto the promissory note, probably by tracing it, just as I did."
A broad smile came over Emily's face, and Stone hated to dash her hopes.
"Emily, it's just the first step," he said. "One small piece of evidence against Carver. We'll need more proof to arrest him."
"And to convict him," Finch added. "He must pay for what he's done not only to Katie but to others in this town, widows who suddenly discover after their husbands die that they owe a mortgage to the bank."
Stone was grim. "Tevis Carver will be brought to justice, but for now, we gotta keep this under our hats."
"As we gather more evidence," Finch explained. He put the papers back into his pouch.
"I will be discreet," Emily promised.
"Finch, I'll meet you in back. I have one more thank to tell Em . . . Mrs. Jordan before we go."
Finch nodded and left to see what Katie was up to.
"Emily, I don't quite know how to put this. I don't mean to butt in where I don't belong."
She could tell Jared was uncomfortable, so she patiently waited and moved over to where Finch had been sitting.
"Well," the lawman continued. It's about my cousin, Elliott Stone. He's a lawyer over in Yellow Dog. I don't think you've met him yet, have you?"
"I have not had the pleasure."
"Not sure that's a good word for it. Emily, you know I think a lot of you. I hope you understand. I just want to warn you about El."
He looked over at her, sitting beside him, gently smiling at him. How could he put this without it seeming like he was pursuing her himself?
"You know how you told me Tevis Carver attacked you?"
Her eyes widened at the memory and she nodded.
"Well, El won't do that," Jared quickly reassured her. "But he's been known to court widow ladies and take money from them."
"He's a thief?"
"Not exactly. The ladies give him their money."
"He's a charming thief," she stated, and Stone had to smile.
"He just works it so he's named executor of the will and trustee of the decedent's estate. Then he has the authority to make investment decisions and has control over investments. He's not real dependable on makin' good ones," Stone explained. "And he's not real faithful, either."
"He's a heart breaker, a lady-killer, and a . . . a . . ." she hesitated, searching for the correct word.
"A scoundrel," he finished for her.
"So when he makes sure that he meets me, you suggest caution on my part?"
"Yeah," he quickly agreed, since she was the one saying it.
"Does he have a criminal record?"
"Not to my knowledge. He's guilty of doin' moral wrongs, but he's never been caught doin' anything illegal."
"To your knowledge."
Stone nodded. "There's five years between us, age wise," he continued, "but we spent summers together. At first, my pa made me look after him 'cause he was the baby of our family. El would tag along after me anyway, so it got so I'd make sure he was nearby. When he was eight and I was thirteen, he used to tease me about the girls I sorta liked. But he'd stand up for me when I wasn't around. And once, when I got in a fight, he dove right in on my side. Got his first black eye. I thought his pa and mine would both kill me over it, but when they heard the story, seemed like they were proud of both of us. Boy, some of the trouble we used to get into, mostly from me tryin' to keep him outta trouble. El always had a smart mouth, but I don't think he ever met anyone who wasn't his friend. They all ended up gettin' to like him. I'm glad I know the man he's become. Guess I love him, but don't tell him I said so."
He paused and fumbled some with the brim of his hat. "Consider some friendly advice, Emily. Keep your eyes on him. I can tell you what he used to be, but it wouldn't be nice. Maybe he has changed. He keeps sayin' he has, but it would've took somethin' mighty powerful. He says he got religion."
"That would be powerful enough to change a man," she agreed.
"I like you, Emily, as a friend. I don't want to see you get hurt. You know what I mean."
"Yes, Jared. I do know. You not wanting me to get hurt -- that's exactly why there could never be anything but friendship between the two of us."
He lowered his eyes. "Guess I'm tryin' to say that even though he used to be a lyin', thievin', gamblin' swindler, he's got a good heart, down deep inside. He's got a conscience; he just don't listen to it. He knows when he's doin' the right thing. He just makes his games seem like he's doin' the right thing. I never knew him to take money from any but the wealthy, and then never all of it. That don't make it right. I'm not sayin' that. Just . . . well, you're a real special woman, Emily."
"I think I'll be safe from his advances, Jared. I don't have any wealth."
"Just the Walker Colt, which, by the way, El insists is a fake."
Her eyebrows raised. "He does? Is he an expert?"
"Not as far as I'm concerned. If it was a fake, Emily, what would you do?"
"I would feel obligated to return everyone's raffle money to them and find some other way to raise money for the mortuary mortgage. I certainly would not want to cheat anyone."
"We'll just cross that bridge if we come to it. As far as I'm concerned, the raffle is being run legitimately."
"That's all that counts," Emily agreed.
The church bell was ringing and they were late.
Emily Jordan felt like a mother hen flapping two chicks to safety as she tried to hurry her nieces, Katie and Amy. No matter how hard she tried, one was always making the other late. She scolded them with a twinkle in her eye, pleased that she had family to go to church with, even if they were late.
Not one of them was able to keep completely dry, especially not her.
The flooded streets were nearly impassable. Once a wagon got in the ruts, it was quickly stuck until the driver could dig out. Mud was caked on boots, and the horses were miserable, fetlock deep in the mud. Why, the bottom of Emily's skirt was so stained by the mud it would probably never come clean. Why didn't someone invent mud-colored clothing? They could call them something like "Mudd's."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone very fashionably dressed, umbrella held over his head, rushing towards her. The speed was not unusual considering the constant downpour. When the man got to her, in one smooth motion, he tucked his Bible underneath his arm and held his own umbrella over her while taking her umbrella out of her hand.
Mr. Elliott Stone gave Emily's umbrella to Katie and told her and Amy, "You two hurry on inside the sanctuary before you're soaked."
It all happened very quickly, and then he turned to face Mrs. Jordan. She suddenly found herself staring into the deepest, bluest eyes she'd ever seen.
My, how those big blues sparkled as he gave her his biggest smile.
"Mrs. Jordan, I do hope you'll forgive my barging in like that, but your bustle was gettin' wet."
Emily felt her face turn as hot as fire. Men weren't supposed to act like they noticed a woman's bustle, although that was exactly the reason women wore the silly things – for men to notice. She blushed again. She never used to be so prone to blushing, and she wondered if it was getting to be that time of life for her. She managed to smile back at him, though he had left her completely speechless.
"Ma'am, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I assure you my intentions are honorable, although we have yet to be introduced. I am Elliott Stone, Attorney at Law." He tipped his hat and accidentally tipped the umbrella he held over their heads, getting her wet from the rain dripping off the edge. "Oh, I am so sorry," he apologized. Somehow she doubted that he was usually so nervous around the fairer sex. He was playing on her emotions. He was gaining her sympathy, trying to act shy.
"Quite all right," she assured him.
"My cousin Jared pointed you out to me, Mrs. Jordan. I do hope you forgive my rash introduction. I just couldn't seem to find the proper way to meet you before today, and I so wanted to enjoy your company at church this morning. I do hope you'll allow me the privilege of joining you."
She managed to nod at him. My, how utterly charming he is, and such a fast talker. "We are late for church," she noted aloud.
He placed his arm at the small of her back. "Then we'd best hurry."
He only touched her briefly – too briefly, she thought – to hurry her along. His touch sent chills down her arms.
It was difficult to remember Jared's stern words to her yesterday now that she was beside his captivating cousin today. Jared had assured her his cousin's intentions were – at least, had been, in the past – far from honorable. The man had a reputation for defrauding widow ladies. She had wondered how he did it when Jared had told her, but she'd been afraid to ask. Now she knew. He smiled at them with his blue eyes sparkling. Why, if she had any money, she'd be tempted to give it to him, too.
Inside the church house, all eyes turned to watch the two of them come down the aisle together, though it was considered impolite to stare. Naturally, the only open seats were in front, second pew from the pulpit. Emily had never before noticed how long that aisle was. She felt every eye on her, and she kept looking at Mr. Stone out of the corner of her eye. He seemed unaffected by the attention, perfectly at ease, sure of himself, friendly – as if he'd been in town for years and knew everyone.
And how Reverend Knowles did go on. She'd always listened intently to his sermons before, but this morning, with the most handsome man in town sitting beside her, the Reverend seemed to ramble. She couldn't concentrate, and she kept remembering how, after the first hymn, Mr. Stone had leaned over close to her ear and whispered, "You have a beautiful voice, Miss Emily."
His breath tickled the hairs around her ear until she felt like giggling like a schoolgirl with her first crush. He was taking liberties already by calling her by her given name when she hadn't given her permission. She should have told him off, but she didn't. Instead, she noticed that his scent was surprisingly pleasant, not at all like the smell of Jared Stone -- beer mingled with tobacco, horses, and leather. Cousin Elliott's appearance and manners were immaculate.
She had never been so glad and so sad for a church service to be over. Glad because she hated all the attention and sad because Mr. Stone would be leaving her side.
Katie came up to them after the benediction.
"I am sure Aunt Emily has already invited you to lunch with us, and I truly hope you will," she sweetly said. She probably wouldn't have believed that as much as a talker as her aunt usually was, she'd barely said a word to the man the whole time. And it had completely slipped her mind to offer him a meal.
"I will be delighted," he agreed.
"Well, I'll go on ahead to help Amy prepare. Aunt Emily, you and Mr. Stone take your time."
Katie rushed off, and it was some time before the two made it outside the church. It seemed as though everyone had taken a liking to the marshal's cousin. He seemed so friendly and trustworthy, honest and reliable.
She knew she could never trust him.
Finally, the two walked alone, and Emily was the first the break their silence.
"My mama used to tell me when it rained that it was the angels crying," she reminisced.
He smiled. "My mama told me a good hard rain could wash sins away. I'm glad I found out that only the blood of Jesus can do that."
"So am I," she agreed. "Will you be in Silver City long, Mr. Stone?"
"Please. Call me Elliott. Or El, like everyone else does. I know we haven't known each other long, but my time in town is short. Somehow, though, I feel as if we've known each other before, perhaps in another lifetime."
"Elliott, I don't believe in things like reincarnation."
"You're right, of course. Only resurrection," he added with a smile. "Yet the concept of soul mates is so romantic, don't you agree?"
She stiffened because it seemed to her that he had changed his tune when he discovered her preferences. He was like a chameleon, changing his colors to fit the situation.
"I imagine you know quite a bit about romance, Mr. Stone."
"El," he corrected. "I gather my reputation has proceeded me, compliments of my dear cousin?"
She sadly nodded.
"But I assure you, I'm a changed man. Even the darkest sin can be forgiven, Miss Emily."
She pursed her lips. He had her there.
"Repentance does wonders for the soul," he added.
She was so curious that she had to ask, "So how did you defraud all those ladies?"
He grinned mischievously. "Oh, that's water under the bridge."
"I can imagine. I can just see you meeting some widow lady, sad, lonely – and wealthy, of course -- and offering her comfort in her time of distress."
"Some people seem to have a knack for comforting others." His smile was delicious, simply breathtaking.
"And then I can see you visiting with her and asking to call on her, and then one evening, when you are discussing your day's business with her – oh, whatever it is that attorney's do all day . . ."
"Write briefs for litigation, research legal precedents, twiddle their thumbs," he interrupted.
". . . you sadly mention how you had to pass up the most fantastic deal."
"I did?"
"Yes. You see, you had an opportunity to double your money on a real estate deal. You had inside information about a nearly worthless piece of property that a mining company was going to purchase because silver was discovered deep within. If only you had ten thousand dollars, you could purchase that property, hold it for a week or two at the most, and then sell it for twenty thousand dollars to another mining company."
"I could?"
"Yes. But, alas, all your cash is tied up in stocks and bonds and other real estate holdings. There would be penalties involved, too much time involved to free up cash funds. This deal has to be made on the morrow or it will be too late. If only you knew where you could get your hands on ten thousand cash. Why, you could borrow it at fifty percent interest and still make money yourself."
"The best confidence game always plays upon the other person's greed. I'm just wondering how you, of all people, happen to know that."
"And your widow lady friend, whom you have become very friendly with, pipes up – as if it is her idea all along – that she just so happens to have ten thousand cash – which, of course, you had already discovered in your preliminary investigation of her prior to befriending her – and she offers it to you."
"Which I, of course, refuse – at first – not wanting to involve a lady such as herself in such sordid business dealings."
"Of course. But she insists upon your taking the money to invest for her – for the two of you – for your future. Why, she wouldn't think of charging you interest to borrow it. You could just have it."
"Emily," he said with true admiration in his voice and on his face, "where on earth do you come up with such ideas? I only wish I had thought of something so cunning when I was yet a sinful swindler."
"Then of course, you tell her you must take a trip and will be gone for at least two weeks – or however long you think you may need to make your getaway. And you go on and on about how you'll miss her, being soul mates and all."
"Soul mates sounds so romantic," he agreed with a smile.
They had arrived at Katie's home, and even outside on the street, the smells from the kitchen made Emily's stomach growl.
As they climbed to the porch, Elliott shook the water from his hat, taking care not to get her wet.
"We must continue this little talk some other time. "May I call on you tomorrow afternoon?"
She was dumbstruck. This handsome man was asking to see her again, and his visit with her today wasn't even completed yet. Her mouth was so dry she couldn't swallow, let alone speak. She could tell that Elliott, unlike his cousin Jared, was very much aware of the effect his good looks had upon the fairer sex, and he used it to his advantage.
He flirtatiously smiled at her and it made wrinkles on each side of his twinkling eyes. "Are you thinking of a reason to say no? Try to let me down easy," he teased.
"Oh, no," she stammered. She wasn't used to having a man tease her, especially not one who was so attractive. It befuddled her brains in a most uncomfortable way. "I mean, not 'no.' Of course. I would love to." She immediately regretted using the word "love;" she sounded too eager.
"Good. Two o'clock. I'll beg, borrow or steal a buggy and we'll take a ride."
She nodded but couldn't help doubt his sincerity. After all, it wasn't as if she was agreeing to a courtship. It was only a buggy ride. He would hardly ask for her hand in marriage. But she wouldn't put it past him to steal the buggy, either.
His voice broke her concentration. "I'm most interested in hearing more of your conjectures."
"Maybe they're not conjectures," she mysteriously replied.
"Has anyone ever told you that you are far too serious?" Elliott asked. "Don't you ever let your hair down and have fun?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm far too serious," she said with a slight grin.
He gave her a mysterious smile. "I can remedy that."
"I doubt it."
"May I surprise you?"
She raised an eyebrow. "As long as you don't become annoying."
"But my persistence is all right with you?"
"I suppose."
"Persistence can be romantic," he stated.
And that was when Emily Owens Jordan realized she was falling in love.