"Great supper, Colleen," Brian placed his serviette gently on the table beside him, considerately beginning to stack the plates around him into a neat pile.
"Thanks, but weren't me. Dr Mike did the cookin' tonight," Colleen looked from her brother to Michaela with a genuine smile.
"Ma, that was really, really good," Brian giggled, feeling slightly guilty for having assumed it was Colleen's work.
"Thank-you, Brian," Michaela smiled, able to read the little boy's surprised expression.
"Sure was, Dr Mike," Sully contributed, placing his knife and fork together, before adding his plate to Brian's orderly stack.
Michaela nodded, quickly distracting herself by standing and taking the plates across to the basin, eager to start the washing up.
Matthew saw the frown spread across Sully's face, quickly slapping Brian on the shoulder playfully.
"Heya, still light outside, how about some checkers?" He smiled, Brian getting to his feet.
"Yeah," the boy replied, Matthew turning to obtain Colleen's attention, a sharp look towards the back door getting his message across.
"I ah, really should, ah, get some firewood," Colleen managed to think of an excuse, the three children scurrying from the homestead.
"You've been quiet. Ya still mad at me?" Sully cleared his throat, Michaela maintaining preoccupied with the washing up.
"What do you think?" she sighed, continuing to scrub the dinner plates in the soapy water.
"Look told ya I was sorry, didn't mean for it to happen," Sully stood and pushed his chair back under the table, crossing the room slowly and reaching for a dish cloth once he'd arrived at the basin.
"You always say violence doesn't solve anything. Despite Hank's behavior towards Myra, even threatening Horace, I fail to see exactly how you thought a schoolyard brawl would make things any better," Michaela moved the soapy dinner plate from the water, placing it down loudly in front of Sully.
"I guess I just let him get to me. All make mistakes, don't we," Sully, his voice submissive and apologetic, hoped to close the matter.
"You're right," Michaela sighed, taking in the events of the previous twenty-four hours, before continuing, "it just seems as if we deal with one problem and something else goes wrong. I can't understand Hank hating Horace that much, that he'd really want to kill him," Michaela looked awkwardly across at Sully, their fingers brushing momentarily as she handed him the next dinner plate.
"Hank believes that he loves her, as much as we might not understand that, I sure can see where he's comin' from. He's losin' her and he doesn't want to," Sully turned away to commence drying the plate, more as an excuse to disguise the underlying subtext of his words.
"But if she doesn't love him, then there's nothing he can do about that," Michaela, having remained focused on the washing during Sully's previous response, missed Sully's subtle metaphor.
"Ain't gonna stop him tryin' though, if he loves her enough," Sully lowered his head, aware that Michaela wasn't following him, Hank's words from that morning flooding back into his mind.
~.~
X.O.X
Thursday, 10th June, 1869
Six Days Later
X.O.X
~.~
"Whatever I do, it's the wrong thing. I want to talk to her, tell her how I feel, but I don't want her to think I'm pressuring her," Sully threw the stick into the nearby fire, patting the Wolf's head beside him.
"It will take time," Cloud Dancing nodded, understanding his brother's dilemma, looking for words of comfort, however not able to find any.
"I know, I feel as though we're back where we were a year ago, though, not even that sometimes. I can see she's in pain, I can see she's struggling, I try to reach out, show her I'm there and she pushes me away," Sully rested his arms loosely on his outstretched legs in front of him, Cloud Dancing waiting several moments before replying.
"How are the children?" The Cheyenne elder queried, after some time.
"It depends but coping well enough, all things considered. Except for Brian. Kids at school have been nasty but think he's too young to understand most of it. All I know is he won't let Dr Mike out of his sight a moment longer than he has to, scared a losing her again, I guess," Sully sighed, shaking his head as he gazed absent-mindedly around the reservation.
"We call that hóéstse néso; clutching child. We see it often in very young children whose mothers have been killed, or become ill and died. They will follow, shadow, usually an older sister, or another woman in the tribe, showing great distress when they are separated from them, or do not know their whereabouts," Cloud Dancing turned to Sully, his eyes questioning as to whether this related to Brian's behavior.
"That's what's happening to Brian. Will he grow out of it? I mean, is there anything we should be doing?" Sully pulled his outstretched legs into a crossed sitting position, looking across at Cloud Dancing once again.
"It is normal for a child to feel fear after such a trauma. Therefore, it is normal for them to act in ways to limit their fear. Most children do grow out of it, in time," Cloud Dancing reassured.
"How much time? Dr Mike says he's been havin' nightmares too. Says he's dreamin' of bad things happening to her," Sully frowned, his concern evident in his troubled expression.
"It is not known how long any one child will take. If there is no improvement after several months, there is a cleansing ceremony that we perform, to lay the unnecessary fears to rest. It will work if nothing else does," Cloud Dancing explained, Sully nodded his head; consoled by his words.
Cloud Dancing stood, placing several additional pieces of wood onto the burning fire several feet in front of them. Returning to his place on Sully's left, he looked between a nearby group of women, including his wife, before looking back again to his white brother, choosing his words carefully.
"Snow Bird asks about Dr Mike. She feels much shame for what has happened." Cloud Dancing lowered his head, his eyes glistening slightly.
"There is no need for her shame, it was not," Sully noticed Snow Bird watching them quietly from the group of women she was standing with across the campsite.
"I feel this guilt also. Snow Bird wishes to know if there's anything we," Cloud Dancing drew an awkward breath, the pain obvious in his eyes.
"Cloud Dancing, I haven't, I mean, I don't think it's time, yet. So much has been going on with Dr Mike, with the children," Cloud Dancing nodded quickly, retracting his former words.
"I am sorry. Forgive me, I cannot begin to understand the damage that has been done," Cloud Dancing, having contemplated the thought for several weeks now, was beginning to think it possible that Dr Mike would never again feel capable of maintaining a friendship with Snow Bird, himself, or the Cheyenne people.
"I wish I could promise that she'd know the difference, but I can't. We haven't even begun to discuss it. Maybe in time, as you say. Things just take time," Sully met eyes with Snow Bird, the woman dropping her head as she turned away, regret and sadness in her eyes.
~.~
X.O.X
Friday, 11th June, 1869
One Day Later
X.O.X
~.~
"I'll see you both at the Clinic after school," Michaela accepted her now routinely prolonged goodbye hug from Brian, before the boy jumped from the wagon following his sister towards the schoolhouse.
Continuing the journey into town, Michaela dropped the wagon at Robert E's before arriving at the Clinic and settling in for what she hoped would be a relatively quiet day.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Come in," Michaela beckoned, remaining perched awkwardly on a chair, stacking older medical journals on the top shelf of the bookcase.
"Afternoon Michaela. Michaela!" Dorothy entered the room, slightly startled at the scene before her.
"Oh afternoon, Dorothy. I'll just be a minute," Michaela balanced the final pile of journals on the top shelf.
"Was wondering if you fancied joining me for tea and cake over at Grace's, if you're not too busy," Dorothy questioned, smiling around as she admired the orderliness of the room.
"That sounds lovely. The children will be finished in half an hour anyway, so I may as well call it a day," Michaela winced lightly, stepping carefully from the chair to the ground.
"You all right?" Dorothy rushed quickly to her side, instructing her to sit down for a moment.
"Just a bit sore still. I forget most of the time," Michaela got to her feet quickly and removed her apron immediately, allowing herself several moments distraction before Dorothy ventured back to the subject.
"Well, you gotta take it easy, least for a few more weeks. Know it seems like everything's back to normal and all, but you were awful sick, Michaela," Dorothy reached gingerly to brush Michaela's right arm, meeting eyes momentarily in a gaze of unspoken comprehension.
"Shall we?" Michaela was the first to move, getting to her feet and returning the chair to her desk, the pair making their way to the café.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
"Afternoon, Dr Mike, Dorothy. I've got some nice cinnamon cake fresh outa the oven, and hot coffee too," Grace smiled, gesturing to a nearby empty table.
"May I have some tea, please, Grace," Michaela smiled, the pair taking their seats immediately.
"Must say it certainly is nice to see you back at work these last few weeks. Trust there's been no further trouble?" Dorothy enquired, having heard about several of the insensitive remarks of some of the townspeople.
"No, everything's been fine. Quite a relief actually," Michaela smiled gratefully as Grace placed the hot drinks and slices of cake down in front of each of them.
"Brian? He gettin' any better?" Dorothy frowned ever so slightly, worried by the boy's normally mature behavior.
"I really don't know. Some days I like to think so but then others. I haven't heard of any more nightmares in over a fortnight but his distressed behavior, trying whenever he can to avoid going to school, I just don't know what to do." Michaela delicately began breaking off a small piece of cake with her fork.
"Michaela, I don't think I ever told you, probably because Brian was worried he'd hurt your feelings, last Halloween?" Dorothy raised an eyebrow questioningly.
Michaela shook her head, taking a sip of tea, as Dorothy continued.
"Well, last Halloween, Brian got it into his head that his ma had forgotten about him. The children were trying to call ghosts or some such nonsense and apparently Charlotte wouldn't appear. What I was surprised at, is just how upset he seemed by the idea that she'd forgotten him. That he actually believed it was possible. Just when you mentioned he's been havin' bad dreams and to see the way he's behavin' 'round ya, been thinkin' maybe he seriously thought he was never gonna see ya again, therefore not wantin' ya outa his sight now," Dorothy sipped her coffee, Michaela taking in her words.
"That is what I was thinking. I've been reading some journals, trying to figure out how best I can help him but there's very little in the area of child psychiatry," Michaela sighed, pushing the cake away, having lost interest.
"Surely you don't think there's anything wrong with him?" Dorothy placed her cup of coffee back down on the table, a momentary flash of horror crossing her face.
"Oh no, no of course not but these nightmares are certainly causing Brian considerable distress and his behavior is particularly inappropriate lately," Michaela reflected on his overt clinginess and tantrums.
"Don't worry, I'm sure he'll settle down once he gets used to everything being back to normal," Dorothy nodded in support.
"It's been a month, Dorothy. I could understand a few weeks, but he just seems to be getting worse. I'm probably just worrying over nothing, it's most likely the troubles at school, and now that that has all settled down, everything should be fine," Michaela convinced herself, returning her attention to the lukewarm cup of tea in front of her.
"Yes, from what the Reverend's been saying, they've certainly got their hands full. He's talked me into this auction business too, wouldn't ya know it. Loren said he'll bid two bits," Dorothy chuckled, her eyes glistening as she watched Michaela sigh awkwardly.
"That's another thing, Brian's being very persistent. He wants me to take part in the auction. I don't know if I should." Michaela dropped her head, alternating her nervous glance between Dorothy and the cup in her right hand.
"Well, I can understand you'd feel uncomfortable but there's no reason you can't," Dorothy, with equal uneasiness, tried to reassure her friend.
"Dorothy, please don't pretend. You think I don't know what everyone's been saying about me. What they've been saying to my children!" Michaela took a deliberate look around the café, the casual glances from passersby enough to prove her point.
"I know. It's up to you, but if you do want to take part, I'm sure Sully," Michaela cut her off immediately.
"No, you're right. It was an unconscionable idea. I just didn't want to let Brian down," Michaela frowned, looking up when she heard a strangled cry.
"Ma!" Brian squealed, running from the alleyway across to the table, tears streaming down his face, gasping for breath by the time he approached her side.
"Brian? Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Michaela ran her hands down his arms, studying his face and hands for any sign of injury, Dorothy looking on in utter shock at the boy's extreme state of distress.
"You, you weren't at the Clinic, I didn't know where," he continued, struggling for breath, his fingers gripping the sleeve of her blouse for dear life.
Colleen arrived quickly to the table, her face dropped in worry, looking from Michaela to Brian and finally to Dorothy, with concern.
"Sweetheart, I was right here with Miss Dorothy. I'm sorry, I guess I just didn't realize what time it was. Brian, it's all right. Calm down, it's all right," Michaela wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her in an attempt to comfort him.
"Didn't know where you were. Thought something bad had happened," he sobbed, his head nestled tightly against her shoulder, his face crumpled in agony.
"Brian, nothing's happened. Please sweetheart. Please don't get so upset," Michaela sighed, looking upwards momentarily, her torment over his panic evident. Meeting eyes with Dorothy, Michaela gestured back towards the whimpering child, his fingertips whitening as he clutched tighter to her.
"Michaela, this isn't right," Dorothy muttered, her eyes wide as she watched her friend struggle to soothe the disturbed child.
"I know," Michaela looked from Dorothy to Colleen.
Waiting several minutes for Brian to stop crying, Michaela realized they'd unintentionally drawn a small crowd of nosy townspeople.
"Come on, sweetheart, let's go home, shall we?" She rubbed his back, Brian nodded, lifting his head and pulling softly on her arm.
"Michaela, if you need anything, please don't hesitate," Dorothy offered, Michaela smiling softly in appreciation, pulling herself to her feet, the small boy still hanging off her.
"Thank-you," Michaela placed the money for afternoon tea on the table, Dorothy squeezing her wrist gently, as Michaela, Colleen and Brian departed from the café, back towards the livery to collect the wagon.
Dorothy remained in her chair, noticing Jake and the Reverend pass her, taking a seat and beginning to drink their fresh cups of coffee. Frowning slightly, Dorothy decided it was time to enlist the support of the town.
"Afternoon, gentlemen," she smiled coyly, taking a seat as they gestured polite welcomes.
"Dorothy," Jake tipped his hat, their relationship in constant uncertainty.
"Was wondering if the two of you might be able to help a friend out of a little problem," Dorothy clasped her hands together daintily on the table in front of her.
"Depends. Who's the friend, what's the problem?" Jake, in one of his less accommodating moods, began picking his teeth with his tongue.
"It's Michaela. She's having a dreadful time with Brian. Well, you've heard about the auction coming up, haven't you? Help raise money for the school play? Reverend, surely you've been passing the word around?" Dorothy glanced between each of the men in turn, Timothy quickly realizing where she was going with this.
"Ah, Dorothy, now, I'm not so sure having Dr Mike in the auction's such a good idea. Not sure everyone would be so understanding," Timothy, naturally having no personal objection, was more than aware of some of the attitudes of the townspeople.
"Reverend, how can you say that? I would have expected you, of all people, to have a more Christian attitude," Dorothy began, her voice rising slightly with each word. Timothy quickly extended a hand to politely cut her off.
"Dorothy, please. It's not that I disapprove but you've heard people talk. I don't see the point in stirring up trouble over something that's really not all that important," the Reverend looked downwards, slightly ashamed of his words.
"Well, it's obviously important to Brian. How's he going to feel if everyone else's mother is involved but his? It's just going to look like we're making a big deal of it," Dorothy glanced at Jake for support.
"Dr Mike's not actually considering going through with it, is she?" The newly appointed Mayor voiced, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.
"And why shouldn't she? Don't tell me you think there's any truth to what people been sayin'?" Dorothy raised a single eyebrow, almost challenging Jake to disagree with her.
"Of course not. I just assumed she wouldn't feel, right about it. I mean, I know it's only a dance and I wouldn't have any problems dancing with her, but I just don't know if it's such a wise idea, putting her up in front of the town and all," Jake tried to justify his statement.
"That's what I say, Dorothy. Why risk a public display?" Timothy shook his head, convinced it was just too soon.
"To show we don't want to see her ostracized. To show it's in the past. For Brian, if nothing else," Dorothy looked back towards the alleyway, remembering the distressed state the little boy had been in only minutes before.
"There's no denying that he's going through a difficult time but maybe she's trying too hard for that little boy," the Reverend distracted himself sipping his coffee thoughtfully.
"That's my point; she's trying, and if Michaela's willing to participate, then surely the least we can do is see to it that there are no problems. Jake, you said yourself you wouldn't have a problem dancing with her, and I know Loren wouldn't. I'm sure, between a few of you, you can see to it that everything goes smoothly?" Dorothy alternated her proposition between the two men across the table.
"Well, I, I suppose so. As long as you're sure Dr Mike won't mind?" Jake looked to Timothy for his response.
"As I said, I've got no objection but I'm going to be the auctioneer, and I'm afraid, the dances go to the highest bidder. There isn't anything I can do about who that might be," Timothy moved in his chair slightly, beginning to get a very uneasy feeling about this.
"Then you men will just have to ensure that it's someone, appropriate," Dorothy nodded, realizing just how long she'd been away from the store. Getting to her feet, she noticed the Reverend and Jake exchange worried looks.
"You just make sure Loren agrees to this too," Jake pointed his finger sharply in the direction of the Mercantile, Dorothy nodding in reassurance.
"You leave Loren to me. Gentlemen," she smiled with faint smugness; having achieved her objective, before turning and pacing confidently back towards the store.
~.~
X.O.X
Saturday, 19th June, 1869
Eight Days Later
X.O.X
~.~
"Aww, I got a bad feeling about this, I'm tellin' ya," Loren shook his head, smoothing out his suit jacket as he and Dorothy strolled slowly from the porch of the Mercantile, along the main street towards the meadow.
"Don't be silly, Loren. Everything's going to be fine. Jake assured me you'll all be keeping an eye out. We just got to stop worrying, and enjoy the day. After all, it's for the children," Dorothy continued down the main street beside Loren, various townspeople beginning to congregate in the meadow.
"I know that. It's just, can't help thinkin' this is just askin' for trouble. I mean, what if someone just wants Dr Mike, well, because," Loren pulled an awkward face, his gaze lowering.
"That's where you and Jake come in. Gotta make sure there's nothin' like that goin' on. 'Sides, don't even know if she's planning to do it yet. Still hadn't made up her mind yesterday when I spoke with her," Dorothy quickly spotted the Reverend talking with newlyweds Myra and Horace.
"Oh look, they're back. Loren, come on, let's go find out how the honeymoon went," Dorothy gasped, an immediate smile broadening on her face.
"Dorothy, please. Not like it was going to be that much of an accomplishment, Myra was a," Loren tipped his head, rolling his eyes as Dorothy quickened her pace eagerly across the meadow.
"Sshhh!" Dorothy scolded. "Afternoon Myra, Horace. Welcome back!" Dorothy approached the young woman engulfing her in a friendly embrace.
"Oh, Miss Dorothy. I mean, Dorothy," Myra blushed slightly, her left hand intertwined in Horace's.
"Thank-you, Dorothy. Yes, arrived safely home yesterday afternoon. The Reverend here was just catching us up on all the news," Horace smiled politely, looking around as the area began to fill with a collection of families, all the women dressed in their finest attire.
"Hank ain't been causin' no more trouble, I hope," Myra frowned nervously, glad the Saloon owner was remaining out of sight, at least for the moment.
"Now, don't you go worryin' about that, Myra, that's all in the past," Dorothy touched her shoulder lightly, distracted by Loren's stifled gasped.
"Loren, what," Dorothy turned, bystanders around her also reacting to the small group approaching from the bridge.
"Dr Mike sure cleans up well, don't she," Loren, his jaw trembling slightly, eye wide, muttered under his breath, Dorothy startled by the very approving smile creeping across his lips.
"Loren!" she reprimanded, watching as Michaela and the children passed by the groups of huddled townspeople, still twenty or so yards away.
"Well, can't say I've ever seen her lookin' so, ah, nice, either," Horace stuttered awkwardly, wanting to support Loren, however not feeling quite comfortable with the subject matter.
"What'd you expect, her to come in a black funeral dress or something? Really." Dorothy shook her head, momentarily relieved when they were distracted by Olive and Jake joining them. Jake sidled up to Loren immediately, both men continuing to watch with awed enjoyment.
"Never thought I'd see her looking like that again," Jake muttered under his breath, Loren clearing his throat in agreement.
"What'd you think she'd look like, Jake? A whore?" Olive raised a single eyebrow, both men dropping their astonished faces simultaneously.
"Hey, Mr. Bray!" Brian acknowledged excitedly, as he Colleen, and Michaela joined the group, nods and smiles of welcome passing between the adults.
"Afternoon there, boy. Looking forward to today, I'll bet," Loren smiled, the young boy nodding with a Cheshire-cat smile.
"Dr Mike, may I go see Becky?" Colleen queried, pointing in the direction of Becky's family and eagerly departing after receiving an affirming nod from Michaela.
The large group remained silent for several moments, watching Colleen leave, all realizing that they were at a loss for words. Olive, never short of a comment to break the ice, approached Michaela, everyone else gradually busying themselves in superficial conversation.
"Decided to go ahead with this whole get-up in the end, then?" The older woman smiled, both relieved when attention seemed to be shifting away from them.
"I didn't want to let Brian down," Michaela responded softly, swallowing as she tried to fight the feeling that everyone was looking at her.
Olive nodded and took a step closer, watching Michaela's shoulders tense nervously.
"Don't you worry 'bout today. Everything's gonna be fine, we'll all see to that," Olive muttered under her breath, allowing only Michaela to hear her words.
Michaela nodded, taking several deep breaths, watching as Brian, still only several yards away, 'helped' Loren adjust his bowtie.
Sully remained several hundred feet away, perched calmly against one of the old oak trees which surrounded the meadow. He watched silently as Michaela and the children crossed the bridge and approached the small group of people, he too, aware of the disapproving and intrigued glances she received from assorted townspeople. He glanced down at the Wolf by his side, remembering their somewhat strained conversation from the night before.
"Sully, are you gonna bid for Ma?" Brian looked up from his plate, once containing a fresh slice of apple pie.
"Brian," Michaela tried to put a stop to the conversation, still not quite believing she'd agreed to go through with it.
"It's all right. I weren't figuring on going I have to say," Sully placed the fork slowly down on the edge of his plate, the young boy looking across to his mother in disbelief.
"Ma? I thought," Brian felt his sister nudge him underneath the table subtly. He hung his head, remaining silent.
"It ain't the sorta thing I feel right about but if you want me to go," Sully suddenly felt the weight of a horse on his shoulder's, realizing Michaela may have been counting on his presence. He knew however, even if she had, she would now be too proud to admit it.
"Don't be silly, I understand. I apologize, it was wrong of me to just assume," Michaela looked between each of the children on her left, before reaching for Brian's now empty plate, feeling Sully's hand brush her right wrist to obtain her attention.
"You want me there, I'm there," he narrowed his eyes, realizing as much as he tried, she would never request his presence.
"I said, it's fine. I don't need you looking out for me. Do I?" Michaela responded defensively, her eyes dropping closed momentarily when she realized exactly how Sully had taken that.
The room was filled with a deadly silence. Despite his frequently inappropriate comments, this was one time where Brian's conversation was welcomed.
"So, what ya gonna wear, Ma? Can ya wear the blue dress? The one you wore when you danced with Pa. You'll sure beat Benjamin's ma in that. Please, Ma," Brian drew a breath, expecting a kick of disapproval from someone under the table, looking somewhat awkward when none was forthcoming.
"I hadn't really thought about it," Michaela smiled softly as the child's face lit up, her smile melting slightly, troubled anticipation clouding her mind. This was really going to be happening.
Sully looked up from his secluded position as the Reverend called the gathering of the fifty or so men, women and children to the designated area of the meadow, taking his place behind the lectern and commencing with a warm welcome. Following this he briefly outlined the purpose of the event, as well as going over a few necessary rules and outlining the auction process.
"Well, I'm sure everyone's eager to press on with the day, so let's begin. Could all the ladies please assemble in the clearing here, and we'll begin," Timothy watched as his instructions were followed, soft chatter erupting from the group of men as the dozen or so ladies formed a rough gathering next to the Reverend.
Brian pushed his hands deeper into his pockets as he paced the several yards to Mr. Bray's side, the young boy's smile growing when he realized his mother really was the prettiest lady there.
"Isn't she pretty! Think she'll get the most money, Mr. Bray?" Brian turned to address his grandfather-figure, the older man seeming slightly lost in his thoughts, taking several moments to respond.
"Oh, oh, I don't know boy but you're right, she's certainly lookin' mighty fine," Loren clicked his lips against his gums, meeting eyes with Jake across the other side of the gathering, both aware of the possibility of an outburst erupting.
"Right, now, straightforward auction, bidding will start at two bits for each participant, be raised in two bit increments from then on, until the highest bidder is declared," Timothy cleared his throat, aware of the light whispers and glances being passed around from the townsmen.
"Following completion of the auction process, we'll all make our way over to the hurdy-gurdy, which Olive Davis has very kindly offered us for the duration of the day's entertainment. We'll begin with the three dances to which each auction winner is entitled, followed by refreshments and more dancing if people wish," Timothy drew a breath to continue.
"You mean if we've any strength left by that stage, Reverend," Olive interjected, the crowd emitting gentle laughter.
"Exactly, now, there's no particular order to this. Who'd like to go first?" The Reverend reached for his gavel which was laying on the lectern in front of him, the large group of women bustling nervously as nobody wished to go first.
"Oh, I'll go. Best just get it over with," Dorothy pushed through from the middle of the crowd.
"Thank-you, Dorothy. Right, well gentlemen. Who's going to open the bidding at two bids," The reverend watched as Loren and Jake exchanged seething glances. Clearing his throat, Timothy raised an eyebrow, both men lurching forwards half a step.
"Two bits!" Jake and Loren called in unison, each looking away when they heard the other's voice. A hearty laughter was heard from the entire gathering, Dorothy bringing her hands to her cheeks, in secretly pleased embarrassment.
"Ah, all right, we're on two bits. I think that was you Loren. Do I hear four?" The Reverend continued, the noise dying down after several moments.
"Four bits," Jake replied smugly, his hands being stuffed into his pockets, determined to win Dorothy. This was now a competition of egos, not mere money.
"One dollar," Loren realized exactly what Jake was planning, and decided to get as much out of him as possible.
"That's one dollar to Loren, do I hear," Timothy was cut off by Jake instantly.
"One-fifty," Jake nodded, Loren running his tongue along the inside of his teeth, deep in thought. He wasn't going to give Jake the satisfaction of competing with him, besides, he'd set his sights elsewhere.
"All right, one-fifty. Do I hear any advance on that?" The Reverend looked to Loren expectantly, the older man looking between the grass below him and the young boy by his side.
"Aren't ya gonna bid for Miss Dorothy, Mr. Bray?" Brian frowned, knowing that they were rather friendly.
"Nah, boy, Jake'll just raise the stakes. He can't stand to lose somethin' like this," Loren unintentionally met eyes with Dorothy, the red-haired woman tilting her head slightly, her vain disappointment obvious.
"One-fifty going once. One-fifty going twice. Thank-you, Jake. That's Mrs. Dorothy Jennings, you've got a fine dancing partner there, Mr. Slicker," Timothy smiled, the gavel having hit the lectern three times.
A small applause erupted from the group, the next lady stepping forwards.
"Mrs. Avery, you're looking lovely today. Gentlemen, shall we start the bidding at two bits," the Reverend began the second auction smartly, everyone quickly hushing and focusing on the bidding once again.