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2
Cake and Coffee
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Thus it was that, when a suitable young lady did arrive at the relay station, Jonesy's delight knew no bounds.
She arrived, utterly unexpectedly, in a buggy driven by her brother, that very afternoon. Jonesy was ruling in solitary splendour, Slim and Jess having ridden out, still mutually silent, to drive in a bunch of yearlings whose brands needed checking. He'd been amusing himself with a couple of new cake recipes and the results were cooling in sweet-smelling glory on the rack, while Jonesy put his feet up for a well-earned snooze. He was not, therefore, initially very pleased to be disturbed by the sound of the buggy drawing up outside.
Then a mellifluous young voice exclaimed eagerly: "This is the place, Jago. It says Sherman Stage Stop. I do hope he's at home!"
Jonesy opened one eye. Which 'he' was she referring to? Jago, whoever he was, merely grunted noncommittally in response.
There was the sound of skirts rustling as the young lady descended from the buggy, followed by a timid knock at the door. Jonesy was already on his feet and half way there. His sudden opening of the door caused a squeak of surprise as the girl stepped back abruptly.
"Oh! Who are you?" Her hands, little hands in pristine white lace gloves, flew to her cheeks, which were pink with embarrassment.
"Can I help you, Miss? The name's Jonesy. I work here."
The young lady rapidly recovered her poise and her manners. "Please forgive me, Mr. Jones. That was so rude of me. I was just surprised."
"It's Jonesy, miss. Ain't no-one ever called me nothin' else since the ark sailed."
The girl giggled and two lovely dimples appeared in her plump cheeks. The effect was irresistible!
"Please come in, Miss." Jonesy held the door wide and made a sweeping gesture towards the - fortunately cleared and clean - table. Thank goodness he'd dragooned the still silent partners into doing their share of the domestic tasks after the midday meal. "I was just about to take some refreshment, if you would care to join me?"
The girl turned her head to look over her shoulder at the man who had accompanied her. The movement showed to perfection the soft, slender column of her neck, so creamy compared with the tan which plagued most women in the neighbourhood. It was entrancing.
"May I, Jago?" she pleaded. How could any man resist her?
Jago apparently could. He shrugged and stated briefly: "Supper - sunset."
Whether this was an injunction regarding the duration of her refreshments or a warning not to spoil her appetite, was unclear. Whichever it was, the young lady smiled, dazzling Jonesy with those dimples again, and tripped lightly in.
"Oh! What a lovely rocking chair!" The next moment, she was rocking delightedly, swinging her tiny feet with their slender ankles into the air.
Jonesy hastened to avert his gaze. After all, he was not one of the young men who would be impressed by such revelations. He said: "Just make yourself at home, Miss ... err ..."
"Oh!" Her hands flew to her mouth again. " How rude of me! I'm Hope Robinson, Jonesy. I'm staying with my great aunt Agnes."
"And she is, Miss Hope?"
"Mrs. Mulholland, of course," she laughed.
Good heavens! Jonesy thought, somewhat irreverently, how did the old bat manage to have so many pretty nieces? Or maybe they just took after her husband's side? On further recollection of the plain, rotund and balding Mr.. M, Jonesy dismissed this idea pronto. Aloud, he just said: "Is that so, Miss Hope?"
"Not really," a girlish giggle informed him. "We're not actually related, but she was my grandmother's best friend. She just offered to have me stay because ... well ..." The dimples flashed again, as she breathed charmingly, just a little sigh. "Mama was getting tired of being besieged. She said the boys' boots were wearing a hole in the front step!"
They certainly were. No sooner had Jonesy excused himself in order to fetch fresh coffee and the newly made cake than hooves thundered to a halt at the hitching rail and boots did, indeed, rattle the planks of the porch.
Moments later, he found himself having to share his pleasant tête a tête with Miss Hope Robinson, as the room was filled by the well-scrubbed and smartly dressed forms of three of Laramie's most eligible young bachelors. The fact that two of the other young men who definitely fell into this category were somewhere out working the range made Jonesy sigh at the unfairness of life. Mind you, if they still weren't speaking ... and Slim still had that black eye ...
He was abruptly recalled from these speculations. The three young men were not at all pleased to see each other!
#####
Neither were the two young men who rode into relay station yard shortly afterwards. There was a startled gasp from Slim and an almost simultaneous exasperated groan from Jess. This was followed by a near murderous exchange of glares.
"Shut up!" Slim snarled.
Jess's expression morphed into a mixture which blended the exasperation and injured innocence in equal proportions. "I ain't uttered a word to y' since breakfast!" he protested with total truth.
He should have known better by this time than to try the injured innocent on Slim. "You've been shouting with every inch of your scrawny little body!"
Slim should have known better by this time than to use the L-word. Jess's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched and his hands fisted ready to punch the living daylights out of his partner. But by some miraculous and monumental effort of self-control he just reached out and grabbed Alamo's reins from Slim's surprised hands. "Oh go and get someone else to break that rock solid head of yours - again!"
Slim stared at him. Then his scowl disappeared abruptly and his usual sunny appreciation shone from his face. He seized Jess in a fervent and reconciling hug. "Thanks, pard'ner. You won't regret it!"
"Oh yes I will!" Jess prophesied gloomily and, as it turned out, completely accurately.
But Slim did not hear as he hastened with light feet and an even lighter heart into the ranch house.
He scarcely took in Jonesy playing genial host at the table, although something of the old cook's air of one trying to juggle with rattlesnakes should have warned him. As far as Slim was concerned, however, there was only one person having tea and she jumped up daintily with a little cry of pleasure as he came through the door.
"Oh, Mr. Sherman! I'm so glad. I came all the way out here to make sure that you are alright after the nasty fall you took carrying my trunk up the staircase!"
It was worth a thousand black eyes! And, judging by the looks on the faces of the other three young men, it wouldn't be long before he got them ...
#####
Jess attended to the horses and strolled back, albeit reluctantly, towards the house. He couldn't, right then, think of any task to take him sufficiently far away, so he guessed he would just have to face up to the music.
And music there was. Jonesy was playing the piano gently and a sweet soprano voice was trilling one of the latest romantic ballads. Music was supposed to sooth the savage breast, or so Slim had told him, but somehow Jess just had a feeling that this singing was going to make everything much, much, worse!
Seeing Jago sitting stolidly on the porch, Jess lifted a hand in greeting and made for the back door. Moments later he reappeared, carrying two mugs, rather full of coffee laced with a good quantity of Jonesy's hidden stash of whiskey. He figured they'd need it. He handed one to Jago, before sinking to his favourite seat on the top step.
Jago was no conversationalist. But he looked eloquently at the front door and then at Jess's position in the line of fight or flight. Jess sighed: "Guess y' right!" He moved reluctantly to perch on the hitching rail. Even this was a bit risky if someone decided to help someone else the short way back into their saddle!
Jago lit a cigar and offered one to Jess. It was readily accepted. They smoked and relished their enhanced coffee together in enjoyable peace for some minutes. It did not last long. They were ominously aware that the singing had stopped and been succeeded by the kind of quiet you got just before an earthquake.
With weary anticipation, Jago rose, stubbed out his cigar, pushed his chair back against the wall of the house and deposited his mug safely on it. He walked over to the buggy, every step suggesting that he had his fingers in his ears, although his expression remained impassive. He unhitched the reins, pulled down the folding step, raised his eyes to heaven and waited.
Jess slid from his perch on the rail, deposited his own mug and cigar likewise, sauntered down the steps and selected a spot on the wall suitably far away from the line of the door. He jammed his hat firmly down over his eyes, folded his arms and waited.
They were not disappointed. The earthquake erupted with a series of dull thuds which shook the windows. This was followed by the door slamming open to reveal Slim, holding a rival by the collar in each hand. He ran them smartly off the porch and halted in order to give them a thorough shaking which indicated to Jess - the recipient of many similar ones - that Slim had entirely lost it.
"The next time you want to play a fist duet together, stay out of my house!" he was snarling. "Or do I have to teach you the real meaning of manners when you're in a lady's company?"
This of course was provocation indeed to his two rivals. As soon as Slim let go of their collars, intending to shove them towards their horses, they retaliated at once. The yard dust was raised sky high by a rolling, flailing bundle of arms and legs.
Jess continued to lean against the wall, pushing his hat back a bit to get a better view. He watched with amusement and very little concern, since he would bet his next pay packet that no one was going to get the better of Slim in his present mood.
Jago just watched with his habitual expression of resigned indifference.
When it became obvious that his predictions about the outcome of the fight were right, Jess pulled his hat back down over his eyes, shrugged off the wall and ambled into the house.
Despite the upheaval and fallen furniture, refreshments were still being enjoyed by the original participants. Jonesy was just cutting another slice of his new cake and Hope was prettily protesting that she really shouldn't ... The third young man was slumped on the sofa, clutching a cold, damp cloth to his swollen eye. Black eyes seemed to be a sartorial requirement in present company!
Jonesy glared at Jess, knowing full well the inroads he could make into any kind of baking. "Oh, it's you, is it?" he said grudgingly, in an attempt to put off what would be a devastating assault on his cooking. "Y' can git washed up 'fore y' sit down at this table."
This was blatantly unfair, since Slim had done nothing of the kind, but then Slim was not interested in food. It was something to be said for love in that it certainly made young men cheaper to feed! Jonesy was stunned to find Jess too, for the second time in the day, was not concerned with eating. It really should have warned Jonesy something untoward was in the wind, but, in his own bemused state, he attributed it to Hope's enchanting presence. He just prayed that Slim and Jess were not going to be the next round in the ring, because Slim would not be able to manhandle Jess the way he had done the others and there was, in any case, only so much punishment the furniture could take. His forebodings, however, proved groundless.
"Miss Robinson." Jess touched his hat politely before turning his attention to the young man. "Up!" he ordered ruthlessly, seizing him by the elbow and lifting him effortlessly to his feet. "Y' horse is gettin' lonely!"
This elicited a girlish giggle from Hope. Jess gritted his teeth and ignored it. He steered the young man inexorably towards the door.
"Oh! Goodbye, Mr. Truman, if you really are leaving?"
At this, Truman took Jess by surprise and broke away. He was across the room and kneeling at Hope's feet before anyone could blink.
"Miss Hope, I'll never depart from your side as long as you give me leave to kneel and worship you!"
Both dimples reappeared as Hope beamed at him. Just for a moment, an expression of mingled pity and disgust flashed across Jess's face. Then he picked Truman up by the back of his vest and swung him neatly towards the door once more.
"Find a rug of y' own to do it on!" he advised. "The owner of this one ain't gonna give you permission. Now say goodbye nicely."
"Miss Hope, I adore you, the minutes will be years until I see you again, I will travel the earth to be at your side .."
The young man's declarations faded slightly as he was marched firmly down the steps and were drowned by Jess's deep growl: "Very pretty! But the only place you're travelin' is straight back to Laramie - right now!" Very shortly after, they heard the sound of three sets of hooves thudding away down the road in the direction of town.
Jonesy heaved a sigh of relief. Now, provided Jess behaved, they could continue in a civilised manner and Slim would have an even chance. Much to his surprise, however, as soon as they re-entered together, Jess just picked up the fallen chairs and straightened the rug in front of the fire. Then he touched his hat politely once more and, with a very neutral sounding "Please excuse me, Miss Robinson," proceeded to quit the room.
Slim was left in full possession of the field of courtship. Jonesy wondered very much what was going on in Jess's head that he should concede defeat so easily. 'Defeat', after all, was not in Harper vocabulary, even if he could spell it.
Jess was letting out a pent-up breath as he retrieved his cigar. Jago had already relit his, seeing that his intervention would not be necessary in the fisticuffs ensuing from his sister's friendly little visit. He offered Jess a light from his own. Jess accepted. They leaned against the buggy. They smoked thankfully. Jess appeared to be counting in his head.
When he had got to about 100, his eyes met Jago's. There was an unmistakable plea in them.
Jago stubbed out the tail end of his cigar and ground it under his boot. He gave the distinct impression that it was something else he'd like to be stamping out. He walked over to the house, opened the door and said succinctly: "Supper. Sunset."
With a flutter of shawls and a flurry of muslin, Hope rose to her feet. She turned first to Jonesy, acknowledging his seniority with flattering manners.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Jones. I have so enjoyed your delicious cake."
"It's my delight, Miss Hope!"
Slim stared at his old friend. It was unlike Jonesy to wax lyrical over anything other than a good piano or a new tune. With a shrug of confusion, he turned to their guest, only to find her already clinging to her brother's arm. Much to Slim's chagrin, Jago led her out of the house without another word. He walked her briskly to the buggy and assisted her ascent into the seat with a lack of emotion which would have done credit to an iceberg.
Slim was frustrated and mortified to find his chivalrous intentions going completely to waste. He stood beside the buggy, gazing up with all the devoted concentration he could manage with one black eye.
"Goodbye, Miss Hope. I trust I shall see you again very soon?"
From the background, where Jess was leaning against the porch post in his habitual position, there came a muttered: "Not while we've got a Stage Stop to run!"
Both Slim and Hope ignored this, but Jonesy, who had come onto the porch in order to get a final glimpse of this magical young lady, gave Jess what could only be described as a death glare for daring to imply that the world would not stop turning at her behest.
She, meanwhile, gave that pretty, tinkling laugh (setting Jess's teeth on edge) and dimpled a smile to her captive audience once again. "Oh, Mr. Sherman, I do believe there's a dance on Saturday night!"
Jess gave an audible groan.
Hope turned her limpid brown eyes on him, the slightest of frowns touching her smooth forehead. "Why, Mr. Harper, surely you like dancing? Everyone loves a dance!" It was said with all the fervour of extreme youth.
"Oh, I like dancin' fine!" Jess agreed truthfully. His choice of adjective warned Jonesy and Slim that he was contemplating a rather less social activity.
"But he prefers a good fight!" Jonesy put in, determined to advance Slim's case as best he could, by fair means or foul. "Slim's an excellent dancer, never short of a partner."
He expected Jess to object to this, since, of the two of them, it was usually his lithe grace which caught the eye. There was, however, no reaction, unless a slight tightening of the Texan's already tense jaw could be construed as such.
Slim ignored all this completely. "I'll be there from the opening moment, Miss Hope. Please save the first dance for me."
A faint blush coloured Hope's cheeks becomingly. "I certainly will, Mr. Sherman. I'm sure the others will understand."
"They will!" Slim asserted passionately.
"They will?" Jess murmured sceptically.
"Until Saturday, then," Hope smiled once more at them all. "It will be lovely!"
"It'll be mayhem," Jess prophesied gloomily as the buggy rolled away. But mayhem reared its ugly head long before Saturday!