MacCallister Kingdom Come (20 page)

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Authors: William W. Johnstone

BOOK: MacCallister Kingdom Come
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Chapter Thirty
Sheriff Bowles returned to his office. He wasn't surprised to see Cal Hanson because he had sent for him.
“Sheriff, you wanted to see me?”
“How are the men I sent you working out?” Jason asked.
“You chose the men quite wisely,” Hanson said. “They are all doing very well. I couldn't ask for better hands.”
“How about your house?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Do you need someone to cook and clean for you?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do need such a person. How did you know that?”
“Mr. Hanson, you are a man living alone. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that you could use a good woman to keep house for you.”
“Do you know such a woman?”
“I might. Wait here for a few minutes, and I'll get her for you.” Jason went to his house, where, for the last two days, Jennie Garrison and her son Ethan, had been their guests.
Melissa heard him come inside. “Jason, doesn't the house smell good? Jennie is preparing a pot roast for supper.”
“It smells wonderful. Do you enjoy cooking, Mrs. Garrison?”
“You show me a Missouri farm wife who doesn't enjoy cooking, and I'll show you a woman who has no business living on a farm,” Jennie replied.
“Would you like a job cooking and cleaning house?”
“Jason, what are you saying?” Melissa asked, with a look of confusion on her face. “You know we can't afford to hire anyone to do anything like that. We certainly couldn't afford to pay what someone like Jennie should be paid.”
“I'm not speaking about us,” Jason replied. “I'm speaking about Cal Hanson.”
The look of confusion was replaced by a wide smile. “Yes,” Melissa said, enthusiastically. “Oh, yes. Jennie, this would be a wonderful opportunity for you.”
“That is, if you are looking for employment,” Jason added.
“Oh, Sheriff Bowles, I am most definitely looking for employment. I've greatly appreciated being your guest these last two days, but I do need to find a way to earn an income for my son and me.”
“You and your husband owned your own farm. You wouldn't feel that being a cook and a housekeeper is beneath you?”
“Sheriff, no one is above honest employment,” Jennie said resolutely.
Jason chuckled and nodded. “That is exactly what I expected you to say. Come with me. I'll introduce you to His Lordship, Cal Hanson. He will be your employer.”
“Wait a minute,” Jennie said, holding up her hand. “His Lordship? What are you talking about? What do you mean, His Lordship?”
“Cal Hanson is . . . who did he say he was now?” Jason frowned a moment. “Oh yes, he is the Heir Presumptive to the Earl of Warwick.”
“No he isn't, Jason. Not anymore,” Melissa said. “He told us that he plans to become a citizen of America, and here, he can't use his title.”
“I don't know about working for a lord,” Jennie said nervously. “Why, I wouldn't even know how to act around such a person.”
“You would just be yourself,” Melissa said. “He might be the presumptive heir to a title, but there is nothing presumptuous about him, I guarantee. He is as nice a man as you will ever want to meet.”
 
 
Jennie met Hanson then returned to the house to check on her pot roast, leaving Hanson and Jason alone.
“I don't know,” Hanson said to Jason a few minutes later.
“What is it that you don't know?” Jason asked. “I know she can cook. She's preparing a pot roast right now, and the smell in my house is so good that it'll make you want to eat the leather chair.”
Hanson chuckled. “It isn't that, dear boy. I have no doubt as to her culinary qualifications. It's just that I expected someone . . . different.”
“Someone different? Different how?”
“By different, I mean someone much older . . . and someone much less attractive.”
Jason laughed out loud. “For heaven's sake, you aren't going to complain because she is too pretty, are you?”
Hanson smiled, as well. “No, I suppose not. Now that would really be foolish, wouldn't it?”
“Before she comes to work for you, I think I should tell you a little about her. She and her husband recently arrived here from Missouri. Have you heard of Missouri?”
“I know about Missouri. St. Louis is in Missouri. I passed through it when I came west from New York.”
“She and her husband recently arrived from Missouri, and they started farming up in Uvalde County. A few days ago, a gang of outlaws attacked and burned their farm. They also killed her husband, so you need to understand that she is still going through a period of grief.”
“Oh, the poor lady, of course she would be,” Hanson said. “I will keep that in mind. Do you have any idea who did it?”
“I suspect it was the Kingdom Come Gang.”
“Oh, yes, I have read about them in the newspaper. Will you be going after them? It sounds like quite a formidable job for one man.”
“This happened in Uvalde County, and I have no jurisdiction there. But if they come into Maverick County, I certainly will raise a posse and go after them.”
Chugwater
“How was your trip to Texas?” Biff asked when Duff went into Fiddlers' Green for the first time after returning home.
“It went well,” Duff said. “We got all the cows delivered to Mr. Hanson without losing any.”
“Well, you can't ask any more than that. The first one is on me. Sort of a welcome home, so to speak.” Biff poured the scotch, then corked the bottle.
Duff picked up the drink, held it out toward Biff, then tossed it down. “Ah, Biff m' lad, 'tis truly the nectar of the gods, distilled from the mist on the moors, and aged in hickory kegs in fields of heather.”
Biff laughed out loud. “Duff, have you ever kissed that Blarney Stone people talk about?”
“
Och, mon
, has your own dear sweet Scottish wife not told you that the Blarney Stone is for Irish? Not Scots?”
“Irish, English, French, Scot, it makes no difference who it is when you are telling a big one.”
Duff chuckled. “Sure 'n you've got me dead to rights there, lad. But 'twas paying you a compliment, I was, for having the intelligence to stock, in your establishment, a drink that is so fine.”
After the drink, and exchanging a few pleasantries with some of the other customers in the saloon, Duff bade his friend good-bye, then walked down to Megan's Dress Emporium. She was with a customer when he went in.
“Oh. I
dinnae
know you were busy. Shall I come back later, then?”
“Don't you dare run away, Mr. MacCallister,” Mrs. Matthews said. “I need only to buy a new scarf to go with the new dress Megan is making for me, and she's already selected the one that will do best. I'll just be a minute. I'll not be the reason for you not being able to visit with your lady friend.”
“That is very nice of you, Mrs. Matthews. But please, take your time. I'll sit over in the corner 'n read today's newspaper.”
“Oh, I'd hate for you to have to do that.”
Megan smiled at her customer. “Take my word for it, Edna, you'll not be putting him out. Scotsman that he is, and so unaccustomed to spending money, he doesn't bother to subscribe to the newspaper. He just reads mine.”
Duff chuckled. “Aye, I'm afraid the lass knows me too well.”
KINGDOM COME GANG
STRIKES AGAIN
 
Texas Suffering Under
Criminal Activity
 
Three days ago, while engaged in the peaceful pursuit of business, three freight wagons were set upon by the gang of ruffians known as the Kingdom Come Gang.
Two of the drivers were killed. The third was left for dead, but surely would have been finished off if the outlaws had realized they had not killed him.
The strangest thing about the attack on the wagons was that they were carrying nothing that would normally be of interest to such men. The cargo was foodstuffs, consigned to grocery stores in the town of White's Mine, Texas.
Regency Ranch
Jennie brought Hanson's dinner in and put it on the table before him.
“Oh, Mrs. Garrison, that looks and smells perfectly marvelous,” Hanson said. “I believe you said this is called chicken and dumplings?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I've never before seen chicken and dumplings. Chicken, of course, roasted, stewed, even fried. But never anything quite like this.” He took a bite of one of the dumplings, then lifting his hand to the side of his mouth, he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. “
Très délicieux
.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“That is French for
very delicious
. I used French because the English language, wonderful though it might be, doesn't have the words to do justice to this extraordinary fare. Only the French language can give it its proper due.”
Jennie laughed. “Mr. Hanson, you have the most marvelous way with words of anyone I have ever met.”
Hanson stood and gestured toward the table. “Won't you please join me?”
“Oh, no, I . . . I don't think it would be quite proper,” Jennie said. “After all, I'm working for you.”
“But surely, if you sat at the far end of the table—it is quite long, as you can see—there could be nothing untoward in that.”
“Mr. Hanson, I don't know how to thank you for hiring me and giving me a way to make a living and allowing me to live here in such a beautiful house. I just don't want to do anything that would cause any problems for you.”
“Nonsense, how could having you dine at my table cause any problems?”
“Mrs. Bowles said you are an English nobleman. I'm just a country girl from Missouri. I'm a commoner.”
Hanson laughed. “Believe me, Mrs. Garrison, in the few weeks I have known you, I have been able to observe that there is absolutely nothing common about you. However, if dining with me would make you uncomfortable, please, forget that I ask.”
“Thank you.”
“No, Mrs. Garrison. I thank you for coming to work for me. As you can see, you are most needed here. And I thank Sheriff Bowles for introducing us.”
“I'll leave you to your dinner,” Jennie said.
“Give my regards to your son,” Hanson said as Jennie withdrew from the room.
Returning to the kitchen, Jennie took her place at the kitchen table with Ethan. He was eating his dinner with gusto. “You know what, Ma?”
“No, but I imagine you are going to tell me.”
“Chicken 'n dumplin's is my most favorite thing to eat in the whole world.”
“It was your father's favorite, too.”
“Did you learn to make it because it was his favorite food?”
“Yes. His mother, your grandmother, taught me how to make it.” Tears began sliding down Jennie's cheeks.
“Why are you crying, Ma?”
She shook her head, forcing a smile through her tears. “I'm sorry. I'm just a crybaby I guess.”
“That's all right. I know why you're cryin'. You're cryin' because you miss Pa, aren't you?”
“Yes.”
“It's all right if you cry, Ma. Sometimes when I get to thinkin' about him, I cry, too. But don't worry. I'm goin' to look out for you. Someday, I'll be a man, and I'll look out for you, I promise.”
Jennie got up from her chair, walked over to him and put her arms around his head, pulling him into her side. “Ethan, you are already a man. You are as much a man as just about any adult I know.”
He looked up at her. “Oh, Ma. Timmy invited me to go ridin' with him tomorrow. Is it all right if I do?”
“What are you going to ride?”
“Mr. Taylor said he would find me a horse to ride.”
“In other words, you would be riding one of Mr. Hanson's horses. Is that what you are saying?”
“Yes ma'am, but Mr. Taylor says there aren't hardly any cowboys who own their own horse. They 'most all ride horses that belong to the ranch where they're workin'.”
“Well, there it is, then. You aren't working here. You are just living here.”
“But you're workin' here, Ma. And that's near 'bout the same thing.”
“You could be working here, too, if you would like,” Hanson said, the sudden intrusion of his voice startling them.
“I'm sorry if I startled you or butted into a private conversation, but I've finished with my meal—it was exceptionally good, by the way—and I thought I would bring my plate and utensils back to the kitchen so you wouldn't have to.”
“There was no need for you to have to do that, but I thank you,” Jennie took the dishes and silverware from him.
“What, do you mean I could be really working? For actual money?” Ethan asked.
Hanson chuckled. “Yes, for actual money. You can be my hostler.”
“Your what?”
“You can be the person in charge of taking care of the horses. That is, with your mother's permission, of course.”
“Ma, can I? Please?”
“Yes. And Mr. Hanson, I don't know how to thank you.”
The rancher smiled. “And, as my hostler, you are certainly entitled to a horse.”
“Then I can go riding with Timmy tomorrow, can't I?”
Jennie smiled and ran her hand through her son's hair. “Yes, Ethan. You can go.”

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