Chapter 4: Hattie

A short while later Lucas pulled up in front of Henry Waller & Son Gunsmith then handed the reins to Mark. "Take the team over to Hattie's and see about that pane. I'll be over in a minute to help load the supplies." Lucas looked up at the increasingly dark sky. "I want to get back to the ranch before it starts to rain."

"All right Pa." Mark set the horses in motion. He'd been able to handle a wagon and full team with ease since he was ten.

Lucas walked into the gunsmith shop. Henry Waller was at his workbench talking with his son Jeffery, a boy about Mark's age. Henry looked up and smiled as he saw Lucas. "Hi, Luke. How's everything at the ranch?"

"No complaints other than I never seem to get caught up on the work." Lucas looked over at Henry's son who was busy trying to fit a barrel to a newly carved rifle butt. "Looks like you've got yourself a fine apprentice."

Henry squeezed his son's shoulders. "Yes, he's been asking a lot of questions lately so I felt it was about time to learn the boy a trade. What can I do for you today?"

Lucas handed Henry his rifle. It was a modified Winchester. Lucas had designed it himself with a specialized loop action trigger. It could be cocked and fired in one smooth move using a specially designed pin mechanism against the squeeze trigger making the rifle as fast as any hand gun around. It was also equipped with a Henry magazine that could shoot off seven rounds before needing to be reloaded. There was probably none like it anywhere else.

"I need the sights checked and calibrated. I notice its aim is off a little to the left."

Henry took the rifle and admired it. He'd never seen anything quite as impressive and he was honored Lucas put his trust in him. He also knew Lucas hated to be without it. "Looks like one of the sights is bent. If you can wait a few minutes, I'll check it right now."

Lucas nodded.

Henry took it back to his workbench were Jeffery stood by and watched his father with keen interest. It was a beautiful rifle and the workmanship was superb. "Lucas, I think you missed you're calling. You would have made a fine gunsmith yourself."

"No thanks Henry. Too many walls around me all day for comfort."

Henry chuckled. Using some special tools, he worked on the rifle then checked the sights and made some more adjustments. After one final check, he handed it back to Lucas. "There. I think that ought to do it."

Lucas held it up and examined the sights, satisfied. "Thanks Henry. I also need another box of shells."

"I'll get it Pa," Jeffery said and hurried back behind the counter.

After Lucas paid for the shells, he bid Henry and his son goodbye and headed for Hattie's.

Pulling up in front of the General Store, Mark reined the team to a halt and after setting the break, jumped down. From across the street he noticed the man he'd run into the day before staring at him. Mark watched him briefly before heading into the store.

"Hello Mark," the elderly lady smiled brightly as the boy entered. Hattie, the owner and proprietor, had a cheerful sunny disposition, unless of course she was riled.

"Hi Hattie. Pa sent me over for the supplies."

"Got them ready right here," she said pointing towards a couple of wooden crates.

With some effort, Mark brought the crates out and set them in the buckboard. He looked around but didn't see the man again. Mark returned to the store, his brow knit in thought. "Something else I do for you today?"

Mark suddenly remembered the broken window pane. He explained what happened. Hattie nodded in understanding, but smiled nonetheless. She leaned in next to the boy. "Your pa pretty mad at ya?"

"We'll he wasn't exactly thrilled." Mark grimaced.

Hattie laughed then patted Mark's hand in understanding. She knew how stern Lucas could be. "Well, let me go in the back and see what I've got."

"Thanks Hattie." Hattie was one of the few people Mark he didn't address as Miss or Mame, only because Hattie down right insisted on it. She disliked the title. At nearly sixty and a widow for longer than she cared to remember, Miss Hattie just didn't seem to fit her. So just plain Hattie it was.

While Hattie was in the back, Mark wandered about the store as he waited. He always enjoyed looking at all the store bought things. But eventually his eyes wandered over to the line of candy jars on the counter.

When Hattie returned she watched Mark with an almost grandmotherly affection. She ambled over. "See anythin' interestin'?"

Mark smiled up at her. "They all look so good."

Hattie leaned her elbows on the counter. "What would ya like?"

"No thank you Hattie."

The storekeeper raised her eyebrows in surprise. "What? Are ya sick youngin' turnin' down a sweet treat?"

Mark shrugged. "I used up all my allowance 'till next week and I have a feeling I won't be getting any more for quite some time 'till I pay for that window I busted."

Hattie tutted. "It ain't right for a boy not to have a sweet treat every once and a while. You go ahead and pick somethin' out."

"Really?" Mark asked a little hesitantly.

Hattie nodded with a big smiled on her face and waved her hand in front of the jars. Mark examined all the containers again and finally settled on some rock candy. As he was reaching into the jar Lucas walked in followed by Marshal Torrance.

"Mark!"

He quickly withdrew his hand. There was such a look of guilt on his face that Hattie tutted reproachfully. "Now Lucas, quit your belly achin'. I said the boy could pick out whatever he wanted." She then turned to the Marshal. "Hello Micah," she said pleasantly.

The Marshal tipped his hat to the elderly lady trying to repress a smile. "Afternoon Hattie."

Lucas approached the counter. "Hattie, you're spoiling him," he tried to explain.

"Well somebody's got to," she snipped back. Though Lucas towered well above her, Hattie was not the least intimidated. "Besides, all I've got at home is a finicky cat named Penelope who could care less if I'm there half the time or not. So don't deny an old woman a little pleasure in this life when she can get it!" Hattie retorted waving a finger under Lucas' nose.

Micah laughed. "Wouldn't tangle with her, Lucas boy."

Lucas raised his hands in defeat. It was no use even trying to argue with Hattie when she had her mind made up.

Mark hesitated "Can I Pa?"

Lucas nodded. "But just one, otherwise it'll spoil your dinner later."

Mark pulled out the piece of rock candy. "Thanks, Hattie."

"Anytime Mark."

"Did ya need anything Micah?"

Micah shook his head. "Just makin' my rounds. Ran into Lucas coming out of the gun shop a few minutes ago."

Hattie turned her attention to Lucas. "Mark explained what happened. I got a few panes in the back that should fit."

"Fine, I'll drop by tomorrow and pick one up. I'll be back in town anyway."

Mark looked at his father with surprise. Through a mouth full of sweet candy he said. "But I though you had fences to mend on the north forty?"

"It can wait a day. Miss Hunter needs some work done on her house and I told her I'd see what I could do."

"Oh," Mark said, not quite sure what to think of that.

Micah arched his brow watching the two McCain men.

"Something wrong son?" Lucas asked curiously leaning on the counter. There was amusement in his voice.

Mark took the candy out of his mouth and stared at his father. "No, it's just that you've been complaining something awful lately about how much work there is pilin' up back at the ranch."

"Well it still doesn't hurt to be neighborly, Mark. After all, Miss Hunter did do us a big favor coming out here on such short notice."

In fact the town council had been quite lucky Miss Hunter had responded to Mr. Griswald's inquiry. The former teacher was reluctant to leave with the new school year starting so soon, but had little choice. Miss Hunter's response had come none too soon.

"I know, but it just seems strange that's all. I mean her bein' a teacher and everythin'." The way Mark said teacher sounded like the woman had two heads.

Hattie laughed.

"Well, as a member of the town council, I think it's only right we all should help Miss Hunter get settled."

Micah cleared his throat. "And the fact that she happens to be mighty pretty to look at as well didn't help your decision anyway, did it Lucas boy?" he chimed in.

Lucas merely laughed.

Mark fidgeted uncomfortably. He never thought of Miss Hunter in that respect. After all she was his teacher. His face screwed up at the thought. Mark was transparently readable.

"Teachers don't all have to be prudish and homely," Hattie said. "Besides I'm glad your pa feels that way 'cause I was of the mind to speak to him about that very subject anyway."

Lucas glanced over at the elderly woman and his eyes narrowed. He saw that determined look on her face and groaned inwardly. "And just what would that be about?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, as you know the woman's auxiliary is putting on a barn dance next week to raise funds for new books for the school."

Lucas winked at Micah and leaned against the counter. "Why Hattie, are you trying to ask me out?"

Hattie slapped Lucas lightly on the shoulder. "Don't you sass me Lucas McCain. Besides if I was about 25 years younger I just might take you up on that!" She straightened her apron out.

Mark laughed.

"No, I was referrin' to Miss Hunter."

Both McCain men looked up. Micah hid a laugh on the pretext of clearing his throat.

"What about Miss Hunter?"

Hattie looked at Lucas irritably. "Don't be difficult. You said yourself we should all make an effort to make Miss Hunter feel welcome." She gestured her hands outward for effect. "Well this is a perfect opportunity to do just that. It'll be good for her to meet with the town folk in a social setting."

"But why me?" Lucas asked.

Hattie compressed her lips tightly. Honestly, sometimes Lucas McCain could just rile her something awful. "Why not you, ya big dope! Despite your somewhat sour disposition at times, you'd be a perfect escort. You're a member of the town council and a widower with a nice pleasant young boy."

"What's that got to do with it?"

Hattie balled her fist and placed them on her hips. "Lucas McCain. When was last time you've been out on date?"

"Hattie!" Lucas said raising his finger in the air in warning.

"You can scowl at me all ya want to but the fact remains you and that poor boy here," she dramatically waved to Mark sitting silently watching the exchange, "are cooped up out there on that ranch all by yourselves."

"Mark and I do just fine by ourselves, don't we son?"

"We sure do!" Mark insisted.

Hattie crossed her arms. "Nevertheless, it wouldn't hurt you to go out with a woman every once and a while. It'll keep you civilized, and maybe help to take that scowl off your face. Land sakes, half the time ya come in here you're growlin' like a bear."

"Can you blame me, Hattie? You're not the easiest woman to deal with."

"I'm only lookin' out for the boy's interest. Without a mother, someone's gotta step in."

"And you've volunteered?"

"Lucas, ya know how fond I am of the boy," Hattie started defensively.

"I know," Lucas said softly, his voice sincere. He couldn't deny Hattie on that count. She was like a grandmother when it came to the boy. Almost as protective of him as Lucas was. And he could see she wasn't about to give up on the matter.

"I'll think about it," was Lucas' final reply.

Mark looked at his father with nothing short of surprise. He couldn't believe it. His pa was actually considering going out with his teacher. Mark shuttered at the thought. What would all his friends say? Mark decided it was about time to change the subject. "Don't you think we outta be gettin' home Pa," he said hurriedly. "You said yourself it looked like it was going to rain anytime."

"So I did. Come on son," he said carrying the rifle out.

"Don't take too long in deciding to ask Miss Hunter out now you hear?" Hattie called out to Lucas' backside.

Lucas rolled his eyes as Micah stepped out with him smirking. "See ya around Lucas boy," the Marshal said before continuing on with his rounds.

As they two McCains climbed aboard the wagon Mark asked, "Pa, you're not really thinkin' of going out with Miss Hunter are ya?"

Lucas sat down on the bench seat and stared straight ahead with a kinda thoughtful look on his face. An almost wistful smile seemed to cross his Pa's face. It was several long seconds before he answered. "I don't know son. I'll have to give it some thought," he replied snapping the reins to put the team in motion.

Mark didn't much like the answer as Lucas headed the team out of town. A few drops of water suddenly hit his cheeks reminding them of the impending rainstorm. Mark hoped they would get back to the ranch before he was soaking wet.

From across the street the departing pair were being watched. Sinclair leaned against the corner of the saloon building near the alley which was situated diagonally from the general store. He'd seen the kid pull up in the wagon. A short time later Sinclair noticed the tall man entering the store with the marshal. He hung further back in the ally out of sight and waited.

Some time later he'd watched the three exit the shop. Sinclair's gaze had focused on the tall man still carrying the fancy looking rifle. So that must be the kid's pa, Sinclair had determined. It was also obvious that he and the Marshal were friends. Once the buckboard was driven out of sight, Sinclair had turned and disappeared.

By the time the two McCains had crested the hill and headed down towards their small ranch house the light rain which started soon after they left town was now a steady downpour along with gusts of wind which left both soaked by the time they pulled up in front of the barn.

Mark hurried to help his father un-hitch the team and while he got them settled for the night with fresh feed, Lucas stowed the gear properly away in the tack room. Before leaving, Lucas made sure all the barn windows and doors were secure before the two of them raced across the clearing and onto the wooden porch of their small ranch house.

Mark's teeth were chattering as he pulled off his jacket. Lucas grabbed a towel for himself and tossed one to Mark. He quickly dried his hair and, leaving the towel around his neck, set about building a fire. Meanwhile, Mark lit a match to the kindling in the stove and after pumping water into a pot, set in on top to boil. Soon a warm fire was crackling in the stone hearth. Lucas removed his jacket and shirt and hung them on some hooks near the fire to dry. Mark peeled out of his shirt and did the same.

Bare-chested he stood by the fire trying to warm up. The wind was now howling outside, whipping the rain up against the house. "Sure is quite a storm," Mark said as he finished toweling himself dry, glad to be inside.

"First good rain of the season, son," Lucas replied tossing his son a dry shirt.

Once the water had boiled, Lucas prepared a quick supper for the two of them. Despite his bachelor status, he was not a bad cook. An hour later a steaming pot of beef stew was placed on the table. Mark dug in heartily, the meal warming his belly. During supper he thought his father might bring up the subject of the window again, but Lucas seemed satisfied to let the matter be having said his peace. Though Mark considered his father stern at times, he was usually fair in his judgments.

After supper, Mark cleared the table. It was his turn to do the dishes again and did so without complaint. Afterwards he spent an hour finishing his homework.

Lucas reclined back in his leather chair and, as he often did in the evenings, pulled a cigar out and lit it. Soon the familiar aroma drifted through the room. Lucas picked up a book off the small circular table next to his chair and before settling down to read glanced briefly at the photograph in the silver frame. It was a picture of Mark's mother. As always it brought a fond look to Lucas' face. Mark only remembered a little about her, something he felt guilty about at times, but he'd only been six when she died. But Lucas kept her memory alive for both of them by talking about her often. Mark knew his mother had been very special to his pa.

When Mark finished with his homework, Lucas told him to get ready for bed. Once in his nightshirt though, Mark wandered back into the small living room and sat, as he often did, on the arm of his father's chair remebering something he'd been meaning to ask his Pa about earlier. "Pa?"

"Hmm?" Lucas replied distractedly, engrossed in his book.

"What's a hussy?"

Lucas' head snapped up. "Where on earth did you hear a word like that?" His pa demanded.

Mark looked up at his father a little startled by his pa's tone. He shrugged, "By the saloon yesterday."

Lucas' eyes narrowed. "And what were you doing over at the saloon?" he asked in a brusque voice.

"Nothing," Mark insisted. "I mean I was passing by on my way to Nels to pick up that axe blade you needed and these two men came out. I accidentally bumped into one of them." Mark had already decided not to tell Lucas about what happened after that figuring it'll only stir up his Pa. "They were talking and I heard that word and wondered what it meant."

Lucas rubbed his forehead. His son never ceased to surprise him "It's a word you shouldn't be using, especially in front of decent folks."

Mark compressed his mouth. "I figured that much out. I am twelve you know. But what does it mean?"

Lucas raised one eyebrow in surprise but soon realized his son wasn't going to drop the matter without a proper answer. "It's a word used to describe a woman unfavorably."

"Like how?"

"Mark."

"Pa, you always told me if I don't understand something to ask. How am I ever going to learn otherwise?"

Lucas sighed. It was true. It was one of the things they had an understanding about. So, as delicately as he could Lucas explained the meaning. "And I better not hear you say it again, understand?"

"Yes sir." Mark said but still looked like he was unsatisfied.

"Something else on your mind, son?"

"Well, it wasn't just the word, but the way the man was saying it Pa that got me to thinking."

"Who?"

"I told you, the man coming out of the saloon, the one I ran into."

"And just exactly did he say?"

Mark thought carefully trying to remember. "He said that when they found that English bred…." Lucas threw Mark a sharp looked and his son quickly cleared his throat, "you know….that they were gonna be rich."

"That could mean just about anything Mark."

"I know Pa, but it was the way he said it. Like it was a threat or something."

"Who were these men?"

"I don't know. I've never seen them before, but I don't think they were from around here. They were dressed in pretty fancy clothes. What do ya make of it?"

"I have no idea."

"I don't think he was a very nice, Pa" Mark said, remembering the way he had grabbed him. If Micah hadn't intervened Mark was sure the man would have hit him.

"You can't always judge a man by his tone, Mark," Lucas replied. "But there are all kinds of people coming out of those saloons which why I want you to stay away from them." Lucas looked at the clock on the mantel. "It's late and you need to turn in."

"All right," Mark said and scooted off the edge of the chair still in thought. "Goodnight Pa."

"Goodnight son."

After Mark closed the door to the bedroom they shared Lucas shook his head. His son was growing up and some of the questions Mark came up with nowadays were getting harder to explain. It was one of the things about being a single parent Lucas did not envy.