They took a hansom cab to the new restaurant. Scott had a steak and baked potato, but Charlie chose something new. Noodles in a
tomato sauce, with cheese sprinkled on the top.
A bit into the meal, and Scott asked, "How do you like it?"
Charlie nodded with enthusiasm. "I like it. It's good. I think Murdoch would like it. Do you think Maria would make it?"
"She would, I'm sure. There's no reason you couldn't prepare it for everyone yourself, though," Scott told her.
Charlie liked the idea of preparing a new recipe for the whole family.
Charlie looked across the table at him. He had finished his steak, or nearly. Since she had no pocket in her dress, she had carried
the small wrapped package in her hand, and then sat with it tucked under her skirt during the meal.
Charlie pulled the brown-wrapper package out and laid it on the table, pushing it across the table towards him.
She said nothing, just watching as Scott took it in, and then smiled at Charlie.
"What's this, my surprise?" he asked.
Charlie nodded. "A present," she verified.
Scott reached out and picked up the package. He turned it over and gave it a careful perusal, drawing out the moment
of suspense.
"I wonder what it could be," he said, teasing.
Charlie enjoyed his teasing. "Open it," she told him.
"Alright," he said, and unwrapped the paper. When he took out the pocket knife, he held it up, and then
looked to Charlie. Charlie thought he looked faintly surprised.
"This is really something," he said, and began to open the blades, while Charlie watched, feeling warm inside.
"It's a small one," Charlie said.
"A smaller knife has plenty of uses," Scott said, echoing what the store clerk had said earlier. Charlie figured that men knew
about such things.
"The handle sure is pretty," he said. Then he smiled at her again. "Thank you. It's a real nice surprise."
"You're welcome," Charlie said.
"Since we're doing the surprises now," Scott said, and then he pulled out a small package from his pocket. It was tiny enough, and
that Charlie hadn't even noticed it there. He pushed it across the table to Charlie, similar to the way that Charlie had a few minutes
earlier.
It was wrapped in similar brown wrapping that his own had been. Charlie took the package and opened it, filled with
anticipation.
Inside the package was a small gold locket, and Charlie sat looking at it for a moment, feeling something she didn't
understand.
"Do you remember that?" Scott asked her, quietly.
"I don't think so," Charlie said.
"It was your mother's," Scott said.
Charlie gave him a startled look. "It was?"
Scott nodded.
Charlie looked at the necklace again. "Where did you get it?" she asked.
"When Katherine was at the ranch last, she mentioned that she had some jewelry of your mother's. I thought about it, and
I asked Beets if he could get it for you. She came to him with this, and a bracelet, and some rings. Some of it is a bit too grownup for
you now, but when you're older, you can have it as well. I thought the locket was something you could have now," Scott said.
Charlie ran her fingers over the locket. "It's so beautiful," she said. "I wish I could remember her wearing it."
"Maybe she didn't wear it that often. She might have kept it for special occasions," Scott said.
"Do I think I could wear it all the time? Or should I save it for special occasions, too?" Charlie asked him.
"It's yours, Charlie. You can wear it every day if you want to."
Charlie took the necklace and held it out. "Can you help me?"
When Scott took the necklace she held up her hair, and twisted in her chair. Scott fastened the locket around her
neck, and Charlie reached up to run her fingers over it.
"I love it," she said.
"I'm glad."
"I didn't know that Katherine had jewelry of my mother's," Charlie said.
"Well, I'm glad that we found out about it, so you're able to have it."
The waitress came over to clear away their plates, and asked if they wanted dessert.
Scott looked at Charlie in question.
"Do you have blueberry pie?" Charlie asked the waitress.
"We do."
"I'll take a piece of that, please."
"And you, sir?" the waitress asked, turning to Scott.
"Peach, if you have it."
"We do. I'll be right back," she said, and bustled away.
While they waited, Scott was holding his new knife, looking it over.
"This is the very first present I've ever given you," Charlie said.
"Well, it's sure a good one."
Charlie thought for a few moments, and then said, "Why would Katherine give up the jewelry?"
Her question surprised Scott, she could see that. He turned his gaze to her, his forehead wrinkled.
To his credit, though, Scott didn't pretend to misunderstand what Charlie was getting at.
That being, why would Katherine do anything that was not to her own benefit in some way?
"Let's not think of that part of it, alright?" Scott told her. "Let's just be glad about you having it."
Charlie nodded, and when the girl returned with their desserts, she enjoyed her piece of pie immensely.
After that, instead of getting a horse cab back to the hotel, Scott suggested they walk.
"That way I can work off some of that pie," he told Charlie, patting his stomach in exaggeration.
Charlie was content with that suggestion, and they walked along the sidewalks, still filled with folks out for a
stroll in the evening.
Back at the hotel, and at the door of the hotel room, Charlie sighed. "I wish the day wasn't over," she said.
"We'll take another trip soon. To San Francisco, on the train, like I said," Scott said.
Charlie went to wash, and get into her nightgown, and came out of the washroom, going to stuff her dress and stockings
into her valise.
Scott had sat in one of the chairs, and had been reading a newspaper he had bought downstairs in the lobby. Charlie went to
sit, cross-legged on her bed. She'd taken the locket off again, and was holding it, running her fingers over the top.
When she opened it, she saw that there was no picture inside. It would have been nice, she thought, to have found a picture
of her father and mother. Katherine probably would have taken it out, Charlie thought, but didn't voice that aloud.
"I could put a picture in here, couldn't I?" she asked.
"You could."
Then in an abrupt switch of topic, Charlie said, "Some of those kids we saw are real poor."
Scott looked up. He said nothing for the moment, and Charlie went on.
"They don't have much of anything, some of them," she said.
"That's doesn't make stealing right, Charlie."
"I know."
Scott folded his newspaper, and laid it on the table beside the chair.
"Are you saying that's why they do it? Because they're poor?" he asked.
"Some of them."
"What does being poor have to do with breaking glass in store windows?' Scott asked her, quietly.
Charlie met his gaze, and Scott went on. "Being poor, that doesn't explain why so many of the shop
windows get broken. If it was only that, they'd take food, and that would be it. But they don't stop at that. Do they?"
It was a pointed question, and Charlie got his meaning, just as Scott had intended her to.
Charlie felt her face get warm. She felt chastened.
"No," she said, very quietly.
"Vandalism doesn't have anything to do with being hungry. And, you know that," Scott said. His tone was firm. Nearly stern.
Charlie wished she had kept still about those kids. She feared she had ruined the evening. She'd earned herself
a somewhat reprimand, and caused Scott to become stern. But, she was to be relieved, because, once he'd
spoken as he had, and given her a measured glance, Scott reverted to his previous good mood.
They read the newspaper together, with Scott pointing out various articles to her, and then they discussed them.
Then he continued to read, and Charlie, leaning against him in the large chair, felt sleepier and sleepier.
She went to sleep in her bed, with the lamp still turned up, and Scott reading the newspaper.
L
When the train pulled into the depot, and they'd collected their horses from the livery, they rode back to Lancer.
Charlie was still full of good feelings about the trip. Once at the ranch, Murdoch came out to greet them, looking pleased.
"It's good to see the two of you," he said.
"What's been happening around here?" Scott asked, as he dismounted.
Murdoch began filling Scott in on various things that were ranch-related, and then, when they were done unsaddling
their horses, Murdoch turned to look at Charlie.
"And how are you, young lady?" he asked, in greeting.
Charlie smiled at him, and Murdoch said, "If that smile is anything to go by, I'd say you must have had a fine time, hmm?"
"Yes, I did," Charlie said, and began telling Murdoch about the restaurant they'd eaten at, and showing him the locket
she was wearing.
Scott went to change to work clothes, and Charlie, with a half-day free from school yet, went to tell Teresa and
Maria about the recipe she wanted to try.
L
The recipe was pronounced a success, and delicious, by the family that evening at the supper meal.
Charlie, liking the attention and the accolades, still said, "It wasn't hard to make. Anybody could do it."
At that, Murdoch spoke from his end of the table. "When you're paid a compliment, for whatever reason, don't
take away from the joy of the person who gave it to you. No undermining yourself. Just say thank you and
leave it at that."
Feeling a trifle embarrassed, Charlie nodded in understanding. "Thank you," she said, instead, to the family around
the table.
Beets was coming the next day, and the house prepared for that. Though he was thought of as near-family by now,
there were still certain special touches put in place for him. His favorite dessert was planned. Fresh flowers to be put into
the guest room. Such as that.
Sitting about in the library after supper, Teresa said that they should take a box of groceries to Burl's shack
the next morning.
"When someone goes into town, to pick up Mr. Beets, that would be a good time to take Burl his groceries," Teresa
pointed out. "Combining a trip, and all."
"Sensible idea," Murdoch said, in approval.
It was Murdoch, and Teresa, and Charlie, as well, who made the trip to town the next morning.
The box for Burl was in the back of the wagon, and Charlie sat between Teresa and Murdoch on the wagon seat.
At the shack, their arrival set up the dogs to barking. After Murdoch had set the brake on the wagon, and
they'd gotten down, he carried the box to the front steps, as the dogs came from around the back, barking.
Teresa knocked on the door, and then knocked again, with no answer.
"'Round here!" Burl called, and Murdoch set the groceries on the porch, and the three of them walked around
the corner of the house.
Burl was at the outside of the old lean-to, as they walked up to him.
After they'd spoken hellos, Murdoch asked Burl what he was doing, gesturing a hand at the piles of blankets and things on
the ground.
"Need to find somethin' in here," Burl told him. "Been lookin' for the mornin' and haven't found it."
"What is it?" Teresa asked. "Maybe we can help."
"It's a book," Burl replied, and looked to Murdoch. "A book I thought to show ya."
"I see," Murdoch said.
Stepping on into the lean-to, Charlie was agape at the trunks against the walls. There were two on one side and one on the other
wall. They were fine trunks, too. Charlie had seen enough of Katherine's trunks to know what constituted 'fine', and these were
definitely in that caliber.
"Reckon it'd be in one of these here trunks," Burl was saying.
"We'll help," Teresa said, and Charlie added, "Yes!" She wanted to open those trunks and see inside. Her hands were fairly
itching to do so.
Burl gestured towards one trunk, and he opened one on the other side. Teresa unlatched the trunk Burl had gestured to, though with
some difficulty, and finally asked Murdoch to assist her.
"Haven't been open in a good many years," Burl said, as he crouched before the trunk he was in front of. "Likely rusted shut."
When Murdoch had helped, Teresa lifted the lid of the trunk, and Charlie heard Teresa's quick intake of breath.
"Oh, my," she said, in a near whisper.
In front of the girls, in the overflowing trunk, were bolts of material. All colors, vibrant blues and yellows, and all the hues
of red possible. The material was as soft as velvet, softer even, but Charlie wasn't certain just what it was.
Teresa was touching the fabric as if reverently.
"It's brocade," she said, still in a hushed tone.
"What's that?" Charlie asked.
"Silk," Teresa said, by way of explanation. "See the silver threads in it?"
There was fold upon fold of the material there.
"Murdoch, look," Teresa said, and Murdoch left Burl, and crossed the lean-to, to where the girls were kneeling in front of
the trunk.
Charlie saw, by Murdoch's raised eyebrows, that he, too, thought the material to be extraordinary.
"Let's look in this one," Charlie said, and opened the second trunk before Murdoch or Teresa could restrain her.
This latch was easier to open, and inside there were rolls of ribbon, of every color. There were, what Charlie thought was
more material, but when she lifted it slightly, she saw that it was a dress.
"Teresa," she said. "Look."
Teresa stood up and stepped over, lifting the dress from the trunk.
"Oh, my," she said, sounding breathless. Even Charlie, who didn't care particularly for fashions, realized that this dress was
something special, indeed.
"Maybe it belonged to his wife," Charlie whispered to Teresa.
Burl had closed the lid on the trunk he'd been looking thru, and got stiffly to his feet again, from his knees.
"Don't know where that book could have gotten to," he grumbled, and turned to see Teresa, holding the dress in front of
her.
For a moment, and only a moment, an expression seemed to come over Burl's face. One of remembrance, of a lightness. There
was nearly a smile on his face.
"It's been some time," he said, "Since I seen that dress."
"Who did it belong to?" Charlie asked.
"Charlie," Teresa said, in a reproving tone.
"I'm only just asking what you want to know," Charlie reminded her.
Burl came closer, and took a bit of the dress into his hand. "It belonged to a fine lady," he said. "The very finest."
And then, he seemed to lose interest, and patience both.
"Let's have a drink," he said to Murdoch, and turned to make his way out of the lean-to. Murdoch nodded to Teresa and Charlie.
"Girls, why don't you close up the trunks."
When he went as if to follow the old man, Teresa spoke up, "What about all this material, Murdoch-"
"Just close them up, Teresa," Murdoch said, and he went out after Burl.
Teresa and Charlie exchanged a glance, and then Teresa sighed, and began to refold the dress to put it back into the
second trunk.
"What's he doing with all of this?" Charlie asked.
"He's not doing anything with it," Teresa said. "Just storing it."
"I mean, how did he get it?" Charlie persisted. She had the sudden, terrible thought that possibly Burl had stolen
the material. "Did he steal it, do you think?"
"Not around here, he didn't," Teresa denied. "There's no material like this here."
"Is it worth a lot of money?" Charlie asked then.
"A fortune."
"A fortune?" Charlie echoed.
"Well, a massive amount of money, anyway," Teresa conceded.
She laid the refolded dress back on the top, and went to the first trunk, running her fingers over the material on top once last
time, before she closed the lid, and latched the trunk.
Charlie lifted the dress just slightly and kept poking thru the underneath.
"We didn't finish looking in this one," she said.
"Just leave it be."
"But, who knows what else he has in here?" Charlie persisted. "He could have rubies, or something-"
"Close it up, and let's go," Teresa said, standing there, and tapping her boot.
Charlie's hand closed around something further into the trunk, and she pushed aside ribbons to pull it out. When she did,
she caught her breath, and heard Teresa do the same.
It was a jewelry box, the most beautiful jewelry box that Charlie had ever seen. It was made of some sort of wood, Charlie
wasn't certain just what, and there were brass carrying handles.
"Jumping Jupiter," Charlie said, and began to open it.
"No, don't," Teresa said.
"Why?' Charlie demanded.
"Just put it away, and let's close the trunk," Teresa said.
Preparing to argue the point, and wear Teresa down, (she knew Teresa was just as curious as she was), Charlie began to
speak.
For such a large man, Murdoch proved to be very stealthy. He was there, beside them, before either Teresa or Charlie
heard him returning.
"Girls," he said, and both of them turned, startled.
"We're just coming," Teresa told him. "We got carried away."
"I see that," Murdoch said.
Ignoring the stern expression on his face, Charlie held up the jewelry box.
"Look, Murdoch," she said. "Isn't it beautiful?"
"Yes. It's beautiful. Put it away," he said.
Charlie turned to obey, laying the box down gently in the trunk once again, amidst the ribbons. Teresa closed the
lid, and then managed the latch.
"Where did he get all of these things, do you think?' Charlie asked Murdoch.
"I don't know the answer to that."
And then, the three of them stood there, both Teresa and Charlie being subjected to Murdoch's stern demeanor.
"We came here to visit with Burl, did we not?" he prompted.
"Yes," Teresa said, sounding apologetic. "We did."
"He'd like us to share some of the cake that Maria sent along. Do you girls think that you can put your curiousity away
for a time, and do that?"
"Of course," Teresa said, and Charlie thought that she looked genuinely apologetic.
Murdoch turned his gaze to her, and said, "Charlie?"
"I'd like some cake," Charlie said, and knew very well that Murdoch would understand was she was saying. Or not saying. That cake was
welcome, but that she wasn't sure she could contain her curiousness over the unexpected contents of the trunks.
To say that Murdoch was not amused would have been the truth. He looked even more stormy.
"You can mind your manners, and enjoy your cake with the rest of us inside, or you can forego the cake and sit in the
wagon alone until we've finished. Which is it to be?" he asked.
"Come inside," Charlie said.
Murdoch gave her a pointed glance, clearly waiting.
"And mind my manners," Charlie added.
"Good," Murdoch said.
As she followed Teresa and Murdoch towards the shack, Charlie thought to herself, 'Murdoch, one; Me, zero.'
L