Rosemary breathed in the fresh mountain air as she walked down the boardwalk. She wasn't sure what had unsettled her most about their talk: the arrival of Henry Gowen, the news Pastor Frank might be dismissed, or the fact that she could no longer stomach a full out gossip session. My, that conversation had left her feeling out of sorts. Perhaps she just needed to walk home, and take a little nap. Nowadays it seemed simply giving her eyes a little rest could calm any emotional upheaval. But where was the pizzazz in that? And today was certainly a day for pizzazz, for Lee was off to Buxton for business for the day, and she had the whole day to herself. Yes, she was due for an adventure. Well, she'd just have to go out looking for it— right after a quick stop to Yost's Mercantile for a tin of paprika. She had emptied the last bit in the tin when she had made Lee's favorite steak and potato pie a few weeks ago. She also ought to pick up some allspice, ginger, and… ouf! She bumped into a busy Mr. Yost whose back was to her as he swept the porch. He immediately turned around.

"Oh Mrs. Coulter, pardon me. I didn't see you there." Mr. Yost paused and wiped a handkerchief across his forehead.

"Not to worry, Mr. Yost. I have come to pay you a visit. I was just composing my list in my mind. I do hope you had the sense to order the paprika as I advised you last week."

Mr. Yost nodded and followed her into the store where he deposited his broom next to the counter.

"Oh and some allspice, ginger, and—"

"Oh Mrs. Coulter, I almost forgot. Earlier this afternoon we received a telegram under your name." Mr. Yost turned his back to her and reached his hand into the slot mailbox on the wall marked C.

Why, who could be sending her a telegram? Lee would only just now be reaching Buxton, so, no, it wouldn't be him. Perhaps it was an order she'd forgotten about? No, that didn't sound right. Perhaps it was from relatives? Goodness knows the last time she had received a note from family, so it more than likely wouldn't be from them either. She bit her lip and silently willed Mr. Yost to move a little quicker. The instant he turned around with the telegram she snatched it out of his hand. She quickly tore at the edging of the envelope.

The bell on the door clanked loudly and her focus shifted from her telegram to the gruff looking fellow who entered and stepped up to the counter. She gave a quick glance at Mr. Yost, and could tell by his face that he hadn't encountered this fellow before. She gently folded the telegram, tucked it into her shirtwaist, and decided to slink back into the shadows a mite.

"Can I help you? Have I seen you around town before?" Mr. Yost addressed the light haired man who bore a deep scar on his left cheek and a few days worth of stubble on his jaw.

"Ya, well, mine boss… out of town so I pick up." Why this man was Russian, or maybe it was Polish? He surely wasn't from around these parts, or not that she knew of anyway. This was the first Russian she had run into since leaving New York City. His calloused hands reached up and itched at the jagged stubble on his chin as he surveyed the shelves behind a nervous Mr. Yost.

Wait, did he say his boss was out of town? On the very day her own Lee was out of town? Could it just be a coincidence?

"How many pounds of nails?" Mr. Yost motioned towards the big bucket of bulk nails in front of the counter.

"Four kilos and… jerky?" He tried to pronounce the word but it came out more like jer-kay. Mr. Yost raised an eyebrow and pointed to his most expensive brand on the shelf. "Nyet." The man shook his head. Mr. Yost pointed to the less expensive jerky and the man nodded. "Da."

Mr. Yost nodded and began to weigh out the nails in a brown bag on the scale. Her one little question wouldn't hurt, would it? If he could even understand her, that is. But seeing Mr. Yost's nervousness made her nervous too. Who was this fellow? An outlaw? Or perhaps a man working for Lee? Or both? Rosemary held her tongue in check. She'd just be a fly on the wall, listening in. She already had a dozen questions to ask the roughian.

The man reached for a kerchief from his back pocket and ran it over his brow. She zeroed in on any clues she could find on his person. He obviously was not from this part of town—hence the strong Russian accent, he obviously was a hard worker—the calloused hands, and he was in need nails for some type of project— but what project? And what of that scar? Was it the mark of an outlaw? If only she could work up the courage to ask him who his employer was.

"Charge to a…" he pulled a paper from the front pocket of his shirt and unfolded it. "Ah..Lee Coulter." His rough voice skittered across the counter.

Rosemary inhaled. Lee? Her Lee? So it wasn't a coincidence! But why did Lee have this man working for him?

Mr. Yost looked up, his eyes first on the man and then drifting to Rosemary in the corner. Then he put pen to paper as he wrote out the receipt.

"Oh, okay." That was all the mousy man could manage to squeak? Come on, Ned! She needed a major hint here about who this man was, and why he was working for her Lee.

The man grabbed his package and walked out the front of the door leaving both Mr. Yost and Rosemary to exhale in his wake. This was the clue she'd been wishing for, delivered right to her. And by gum, she wasn't going to stop at that. She picked up the edge of her cream French lace skirt and followed the stranger directly out the door, ignoring the warning glances Mr. Yost shot her way.

She cleared her throat. "Excuse me."

The man did not turn around but continued towards the hitching post where his mare was awaiting him. Obviously she would need to be a little more direct.

She planted her feet and raised her voice. "I couldn't help but overhear you work for my husband."

At this he froze.

"Yes, you heard me correctly. My husband is Lee Coulter." Rosemary was frustrated she was talking to the man's back, but at least he wasn't already riding away. "What business has he hired you for?"

At his impassivity she prodded on while he continued to load the packages into the leather pouch on the side of his horse.

"The sawmill? Or might it be some other project?"

"I do not say."

"What do you mean 'you do not say'? Do you know who you are talking to? I could have you fired before the day is out." She watched with satisfaction as his eyes shifted nervously, but just as quickly his eyes returned to their steely norm.

"Nyet, you do not worry me." He lifted his head haughtily and turned his back to her once again. He paused, pivoted back around, and then spit a wad of tobacco on the street directly in front of her.

Of all the nerve! The nasty brown tobacco had only just narrowly missed her cream French lace skirt. She would not let him get away with this despicable lack of manners. She lifted a fist, all for naught, as he was too busy mounting the horse to pay attention to her.

"You are a rude, unbecoming man! Mark my word- I will speak with my husband about this matter the moment he arrives back!" Rosemary cringed at the shrillness of her voice as she stood shouting after the stranger, who obviously was not paying attention to her threats. Well he'd be out of a job come morning.

Even as loathsome as he was, she had half a mind to follow the man. At that moment, the man urged the mare to trot down Main Street heading North. Desperate, she looked around town. Not one blasted available horse. Her lead, as appalling as he was, was getting away and there was nothing she could do about it. Even if a horse had miraculously appeared out of thin air, she's promised Lee she would not be doing anymore riding in her condition. And that was a promise she truly should keep.

Rosemary watched hopelessly as the man edged out of town, then pushed his heels into the side of the mare and galloped steady North. She watched as long as she could see his dirt tracks flying. She held a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun but couldn't see him anymore. Oh she could throw a fit right here, right now. Not only was he a horrible man, here a clue finally came to her about Lee's mysterious surprise for her, and she couldn't do anything about it. Why, this was one of the most hopeless and frustrating moments she had experienced of late. She, Rosemary Coulter, was not a woman to be trifled with. She would figure out a way to solve this mystery. It was far past time she came up with a plan. A plan in a different direction. Yes, a different direction all together! She turned one-eighty on her heel…and Lee's office came into view.

She snapped her fingers. Of course! Why hadn't she thought of it sooner! Lee was out of town for the day. That meant that his office would be unmanned at least for the thirty minutes his head supervisors took lunch. Why, she had just a snippet of time before their lunch hour rolled by. Looking at her wristwatch she smiled. 11:24 a.m. She knew Lee kept strict lunch hours and the men would be taking their break at precisely 11:30 a.m. until noon. She prayed today that would be the case as well. Her fashionable heeled brown velvet button boots hit the boards of the mercantile porch with determined steps, plans already forming in her mind. Today would be the day took matters into her own hands. Today would be the day that she would uncover clues- oodles of them.