CHAPTER FORTY
It was the middle of May when the Quinns arrived from Boston again - Michaela's mother, two of her sisters and a young doctor they had decided was going to deliver Michaela's baby. Hank was pleased to see one of the sisters was Marjorie and much to his surprise she seemed equally glad to see him, even inviting him to supper at Michaela's homestead, much to the dismay of the rest of the family. He was never one to turn down a free meal and Marjorie's company was more than a match for the disapproving glances of Michaela and her mother as he sat at the table, gulping down a second helping of turkey.
Marjorie was now divorced and making the most of her new found freedom, but her outspokenness wasn't appreciated by her family; Hank, in contrast, found it amusing and hoped to spend more time in her company during her visit. However, he didn't get a great deal of opportunity. The next time he saw her, she was on Preston's arm, heading for the hot springs where he planned to build a hotel. A groundbreaking ceremony was being held there and much to Hank's disgust, Preston managed to commandeer both Marjorie and Rebecca Quinn and escort them there, accompanied by Jake. Hank tagged along none the less. Preston would be out of the way the minute they got there, organising his 'event'.
Hank noticed Horace and Myra standing there in the crowd of people as Preston got up on his podium, Horace's face as black as thunder, clearly not happy about attending. Smirking, Hank walked past him and stood in front as Preston began to speak.
"Before we begin I'd like to thank you all for coming and giving me your support."
Hank raised one eyebrow as he heard Horace behind him, muttering something, following which Myra attempted to hush him. Horace continued to moan, louder this time, drawing attention to himself.
"Horace!" Myra hissed. "Would you please be quiet?"
"I got a right to voice my opinion," responded Horace.
"Not so loud."
"I'll talk as loud as I like!" Horace exclaimed.
Frowning, Hank turned around to look at them.
"You're embarrassin' me," Myra was saying desperately, her face mortified.
"I'm embarrassin' you? What about me? Havin' to come here in the first place so you can impress that thief!"
The whole group went silent now and all eyes turned to Horace as he continued to make a scene.
"And what about the time I let ya run around with Hank in front of the whole town pretendin' you were married? Ya don't think that embarrassed me?" he went on.
Myra clearly had no idea what to do and looked as if she hoped the ground would open up and swallow her. Hank found himself unable to stay silent a minute longer, bristling with temper as he felt an urge to protect her.
"Leave her alone, Horace," he drawled.
"Don't you talk to me!" snapped Horace.
Preston attempted to intervene and calm the situation, but found himself ignored as Hank took a step towards Horace.
"Leave her be and shut up or I'll make you shut up!" he growled.
"Hank!" protested Preston.
The little upstart was beginning to irritate him and he swung around, his fist striking Preston on the jaw, the banker clearly forgetting all of his boxing instincts in that moment. He fell hard, landing in a muddy puddle. With Hank distracted for a second, Horace flew at him and the pair began to fight, Hank getting in more punches than Horace, but sustaining a few bruises when the pair crashed to the ground, destroying Grace's buffet, Horace landing a couple of lucky thumps before Matthew Cooper, now sheriff, prised them apart.
Horace scrambled to his feet, his lip bleeding, his face furious and brushed dust off his clothes, then grasped Myra firmly by the arm and began to drag her away from the gathering. She glanced back briefly at Hank, her expression one of annoyance although it wasn't clear whether she was still mad at Horace for causing a scene, or if some of it was now aimed at Hank too for wading in and making things worse.
Hank shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced around at the others, Loren shaking his head and tutting, Jake smirking and Marjorie, much to his surprise, with a look of admiration on her face. Well, she did defy convention. He grinned at her a little sheepishly and pulled a cigar out while he waited for the ceremony to continue.
Preston, wet and muddy, did his best to carry on in a dignified fashion, but a number of people couldn't help sniggering and for the banker the day was clearly ruined.
A couple of days later, the Quinn family's preparations for Michaela's baby proved a waste of time as the little girl was born out in the woods, delivered by an injured Sully whom she had gone to help after he had got caught up between the army and the Indians once again. The pair returned to town in their wagon, Michaela cradling the baby in her arms and Sully as pleased as punch, reaching down to shake everyone's hand.
Hank congratulated them and then returned to the saloon, a little envious of their happiness. He doubted he would ever have that and it looked like Jake and Loren were in the same boat, both of them spending nearly every night drinking whiskey in the saloon with him, pretending they were happy with their lonely lives just the same as he did.
It was a week later that Hank heard some surprising news, which aroused a rush of confused feelings in him that he had hoped he was getting over. He was on his way over to Loren's to stock up on coffee and cigars and was joined on the way by Jake who needed a fresh supply of hair tonic. As they stepped onto the porch, Horace exited the store rapidly, almost running into them.
"Get outta my way, Hank!" he snarled, shoving his way past and stalking off into the street.
Hank's eyebrows rose and he glanced over his shoulder at the rapidly disappearing postmaster, for once not inclined to charge after him and start a fight. He hadn't got much sleep the previous night and was only keen to sit down with a strong coffee and a smoke.
"What's eatin' him?" he muttered now.
"Ya mean ya don't know?" said Jake.
"Know what?"
"Myra left on Saturday."
"Left? Left where?"
"She left Horace." Jake grinned at Hank's astonished expression. "Supposed to be visitin' her sister or somethin', but I wouldn't be surprised if she don't come back, the way she and Horace have been fightin'. She took Samantha and a whole loada luggage."
"She never said nothin'," Hank muttered, suddenly feeling cold all over. Why hadn't she said anything? He hadn't even seen her. She hadn't even bothered to say goodbye.
"Why's she gonna tell you what she's doin', Hank? All you've done is cause trouble for her," scoffed Jake.
"But..." Hank swallowed, aware that he was in danger of embarrassing himself. "Well, I ain't really surprised, no one in their right mind's gonna put up with Horace for long," he grunted and went on into the store.
He bought the coffee and cigars and left quickly for the saloon while Jake was still looking for his hair tonic. Abandoning the idea of making coffee, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and sat down in a corner, trying to decide whether he was relieved Myra had left Horace or disappointed that she'd left Colorado Springs. Would she ever come back? Her sister lived in St Louis - eight hundred miles away. Sure, it was less than two days on the train now, but why would she even want to come back? The only thing left in town for her was her job and who would come running back to Colorado Springs just so they could work for Preston?
His mind was in a turmoil and he found himself still sitting there drinking when the girls appeared at noon; only three of them now as Emma had left a while back to start her dress-making business in Loren's store. Hank hadn't bothered to make a fuss about her leaving, figuring it more trouble than it was worth. She had no contract so he couldn't force her to stay.
He got up now and opened up the bar for the day, carrying on drinking along with his customers throughout the afternoon, finding it impossible to get Myra out of his mind. When she was just a few yards away with Horace, he'd been able to forget about her off and on, but now she was eight hundred miles away, but alone, she was all he could think about.
Months passed and Myra didn't return. It was clearly more than a visit to her sister and Preston had been advertising for a new clerk for the bank recently. Horace looked more and more miserable as time went on and rarely spoke to anyone unless he was forced to in connection with the telegraph or the mail or the trains.
September came and a letter arrived for Hank from Zack, including the latest picture he had drawn, using charcoals. He had written the letter himself in large clumsy letters, but the fact that he had done it made Hank beam with pride. He wrote back at once and included a gift of ten dollars for Zack to buy some charcoal or paints or whatever he wanted. Then he headed quickly for the telegraph office, deciding to mail the letter right away.
Horace as usual, stood gloomily behind the counter.
"What d'ya want, Hank?" he grunted.
Hank passed him the letter and a coin. "Send this, please."
Sighing heavily, Horace reached out to take it and then turned away quickly as the telegraph began to tap, indicating the arrival of a message.
"Wait a minute," he muttered.
Hank leaned on the counter, gazing about him. A pile of undelivered parcels stood in one corner and a heap of letters on the shelf above them. Horace was getting behind in his work. An opened letter lay on the table behind the counter and Hank squinted at it curiously when he caught the first words; 'Dear Horace'. It was from Myra.
"We're both well. Samantha is happy here." It sounded a bit distant, like the type of letter you wrote to an acquaintance, not your husband. He didn't bother reading any more, but idly glanced at the return address. '12 Honeysuckle Drive, St Louis.'
Horace turned now, his telegram received.
"You still here?" he sneered.
"Ya told me to wait!" snapped Hank. "I wanna send that letter."
"Sure. Of course." Horace snatched the letter up and turned away again.
Hank strolled out, hoping Zack's letter would arrive safely. Horace appeared so distracted he wouldn't have been surprised if he put it in the wrong mailbag and it ended up in Boston or San Francisco. This apparently didn't happen because another letter came from Zack just ten days later, thanking Hank for the money and asking if he would go and visit. The school was having an open day at the end of the month with many of their students' work on display for family and friends to admire.
A week later Hank took the train to Denver, looking forward to the opportunity of spending another day with Zack. He arrived early, checked into an hotel and then went straight to the school, spending time with Zack before the event actually started and at the end, deciding to stay on for the following day before returning to Colorado Springs.
As he waited for the train home on Sunday afternoon, a station master came out from his office and wrote a new message on the board beside the platform, announcing that the train expected to arrive in fifteen minutes, Hank's train, had been cancelled as it had derailed north of the city.
Hank scowled and picked up the bag which rested at his feet, intending to go back to the hotel for another night. Then he hesitated, eyeing the train which already sat in the station at the other platform, wondering if it would take him south by a roundabout route where he could get home that night.
"Where's that one goin'?" he asked the station master.
"Philadelphia, via Kansas City and St Louis," the man replied.
Hank's pulse quickened at the mention of St Louis and he chewed his lip.
'Don't be a fool,' he told himself. 'The last person she wants to see is you; she didn't even bother saying goodbye.'
"When's it leave?" he heard himself ask.
"Twenty minutes."
"There somewhere here I can send a wire?"
"Yes, Sir, right over there." The station master pointed to a small office. "Anything else I can do for you?"
"Yes, I'll get a ticket to St Louis," he blurted out. He knew he was going to regret it. Myra would think he was a fool and probably not want anything to do with him, but he told himself he just wanted to see if she was alright. Things had been lousy between her and Horace for a while before she left and he couldn't bring himself to leave her alone to get on with her life until he checked she was alright; that she was happier. If she told him to go away, then so be it.
He followed the station master to the ticket office, bought the ticket and then went to send a telegram to Jake. He could hardly tell him he was going to St Louis - Horace would be the first person to read it.
'Staying on in Denver a few days with Zack. Would be glad if you and Loren keep an eye on the bar. Have a few drinks on the house.'
With the ticket bought and the message sent, it was too late to back out and he now walked to the train and climbed aboard, finding an empty compartment where he could relax for the day and a half it would take to get there.
However, as the train pulled out of the station he doubted he would be able to do much relaxing. His heart thumped as if it were about to leap out of his chest, his stomach churned as if he'd eaten something bad and his thoughts jumped between dread that Myra wouldn't want to see him and excitement that she would. It was going to a very tedious journey.