Texas Twilight (9 page)

“Glad to make your acquaintance, Tucker. I
really valued your thinking ahead in there.”

“
No
problem. It’s what
I
do.”

Bixby
cleared his throat. “He’s the best assistant I’ve ever had. If you
tell him what to expect he don’t mind bending his back none. He
earns five dollars a month.” He paused and looked away before
saying, “Now, if
you’re
smart,
you’ll keep him on when it’s my time to go.”

John looked at Bixby suspiciously. “Where’re
you going? I was under the distinct impression you were sticking
around for a while.”

“Thought you wanted this place to
yourself?”

Tucker watched the exchange with
interest.

Feeling sheepish over his actions this
morning, John shrugged. “I guess I did come off that way. But,
after today, I see there’s merit in the idea of you staying around
for a while, just while I get settled. Show me the ropes. Is there
enough room upstairs for me?”

Bixby’s eyes narrowed a bit behind his
spectacles. “Well, Tucker lives up there, too. But, there’s a free
bedroom. We might be able to fit you in.”

“What about my medical things and books?”

“Push mine aside, make room.”

John groaned inwardly as he tried not to look
around and draw attention to the mess. But he knew this was how it
should be played out. Besides, maybe he and Tucker could get this
place straightened up a bit more. It wouldn’t be half as bad. He
nodded. “I’ll bring my things over later this afternoon.”

***

After her confrontation with the banker, Lily
took her time going back to the hotel room, not knowing what she
was going to tell her aunt.

She crossed over Main Street and crossed
again at Dry. Where the streets intersected, a black iron bench was
placed surrounded by two olive trees and a tall saguaro cactus that
stood a couple of feet above Lily’s head. It also had a beautiful
six-foot-tall clock making it one of the prettiest spots she’d seen
in town. And, with its pinch of much needed shade, it gave
pedestrians a spot to get out of the heat on the sun drenched
street. Coincidentally, it was also one building over from the
doctor’s office that John had pointed out to her this morning. Was
John over there now? She stopped for a moment, looking.

Shouts drew her attention down to the
swinging doors of the Black Silk Garter Saloon where a man
staggered out and stumbled back and forth. Luckily he hooked a post
with his elbow, swinging around a couple of times before sitting
down hard on the edge of a watering trough, spooking several of the
horses tied there. A voice shouted from within that he wasn’t to
come back until he’d sobered up.

Darn. She’d crossed Main Street too early.
She should have remained on the bank’s side of the street and
crossed in front of the hotel. Now, if she wanted to go back to her
room she’d need to pass by the saloon, and the drunken cowboy, on
the way. She glanced south at the two wagons coming her way, and
north at the three mounted riders. Pondering her situation she
didn’t hear the footsteps approaching.

“Looks dangerous to me.”

“T
urning, Lily
found a tall cowboy standing a few feet away on the boardwalk. He
was nicely dressed, and clean. His eyebrows arched over his eyes,
amused, as he gestured to the man swaying on the trough, loudly
giving the horses a dressing down.

“I wouldn’t want to walk past him alone,
either. Never underestimate a man in his cups.” There was a tinge
of humor in his voice and Lily couldn’t help but smile at her own
actions, clearly evident to others. “You’re staying at the Union
Hotel?” he asked.

“I am.”

The cowboy stepped closer when she answered
and she noted his crisply ironed red shirt and expensive looking
boots. He tipped his hat. “I’m Dustin McCutcheon. Didn’t I see you
arrive on yesterday’s stage?”

She was so surprised at his name she had a
hard time finding her voice. “Why, yes. My aunt and I traveled from
Boston. My name is Lily Anthony.”

“I heard what happened on the way here—with
the Comancheros. I’m sorry. It must have been frightening for
you.”

Dustin McCutcheon looked much too young to be
John’s uncle, so Lily deduced that they must be cousins. He was
taller by an inch or two, a handsome man in his own right, though
not nearly as handsome, charming, or wonderful as John. His hair
was dark and wavy, and there was a lot of it if she judged by what
she could see around his collar. His smile was attractive, to say
the least.

“It was. Miss Smith and I had become friends
during our travels. The others, too. I was very sorry when they
were killed.”

He held out his arm. “May I escort you past
the drunkard?”

She nodded as she glanced one more time at
John’s office, then placed her hand in the warm crook of his
elbow.

“You must be Dr. McCutcheon’s relation,” Lily
said as they walked along.

“John’s my cousin. Although, this is the
first time we’ve ever met. Actually, I’m older than John by a few
years. Luke, his older brother, is my age.”

“Luke? John hasn’t said anything about Luke.
He just mentioned he had four siblings.”

“I suppose he wouldn’t, being that his
brother is…” He stopped and looked down into her face, then smiled
innocently. “I guess it’s not for me to say.”

As they approached, the disheveled man
stopped scolding the horses and looked their way. He stood and
watched them draw near. His eyes narrowed into slits.

“
Francine,” he said, then hiccupped. “I told you to stay
at
home
, woman.
What’re you trying to pull, sashaying all over town?” He took a
step in Lily’s direction, but stopped abruptly when he glanced up
into Dustin’s face, self-doubt getting the better of
him.

He was a
big man, tall and husky. His fists looked like frying pans and his
arms bulged in their sleeves. His ruddy complexion darkened as his
face twisted into a sneer. “
McCutcheon!
”

The man grabbed for Lily, but Dustin swept
her effortlessly into his arms. There was just enough time for
Dustin to place her behind before he had to duck the punch aimed at
his head. Missing his mark, the drunk lost his balance and crashed
into the side of the building, sliding down the wall.

Dustin turned to her and smiled. “You
okay?”

Before she could get the words out of her
mouth the drunk was back. “Watch out!”

Like a fuming bull, he charged. With the
grace of a dancer Dustin stepped aside. The giant ended up in the
water trough head first. His feet kicked back and forth as he
struggled to get out.

Taking Lily’s arm as if nothing of
consequence had happened, Dustin escorted her down the boardwalk to
the hotel.

“Here you go.” He opened the door and stepped
back, letting her pass. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss
Anthony. May I call you Lily?”

She nodded. “Of course, Mr. McCutcheon.”

“Dustin,” he corrected, then smiled
mischievously.

‘‘Dustin,” she repeated, then felt her cheeks
heat under his close scrutiny. “Thank you for the escort.”

He tipped his hat. “My pleasure.”

Lily hurried toward the sweeping stairs at
the back of the lobby. She was just about to go up to her room when
she heard her aunt’s voice calling out to her.

“Yoo-hoo, Lily dear, over here.”

Lily looked over to the parlor area of the
restaurant where there were a few tables set up for tea time. Tante
Harriett sat at a small table next to the window. She looked rested
and happy and was dressed to the hilt. Her gray hair was swept up
beautifully and her face had a nice amber glow. She and Dustin had
walked right past that exact window. Tante Harriett was motioning
for her to come over.

“There you are,” Harriett said, setting her
cup down and offering Lily her cheek for a kiss. “Who was that nice
young man?”

Lily placed a light peck on her cheek and sat
down opposite, then nodded when a waitress looked her way, holding
up a tea cup.

What was she supposed to say about the lease
and the money? Her aunt was nearly eighty-six. The last thing Lily
wanted to do was upset her.

“So do tell,” Harriett asked with interest.
“Who was the handsome stranger? Where did you two meet?”

“Dustin McCutcheon. We met outside a few
minutes ago. And thank heavens we did. He all but saved me from a
man who thought I was his wife. He was drunk, you see.”

“McCutcheon?” Tante Harriett’s eyes opened
wide. “Another McCutcheon? Maybe I should send for Giselle, too. So
many single—”she said looking at the waitress as the young woman
set another cup and saucer in front of Lily and then a pot of hot
tea, “—men in Rio Wells. He is single?”

“Tante Harriett,” Lily said in a scolding
tone. “I do not know. I assume he is. He acted like he was, but
then one can never be sure. I certainly did not ask.”

Tante Harriett lifted her teacup to her lips
and took a tiny sip. She looked at Lily across the rim of her cup.
“I think coming to Rio Wells was the best idea I’ve ever had. I can
definitely see you as a doctor’s wife.”

Right then John came hurrying through the
heavy glass door and went directly to the staircase. He took the
stairs two at a time. Halfway to the second story balcony he
glanced over his shoulder and his gaze met Lily’s. Lily quickly
looked down, but it was too late. She was sure he’d seen her
watching him. She didn’t have the nerve to look and see if he was
on his way over. It was less than a second that she had to wait to
find out.

“Lily. I’m sorry I missed the appointment.
There was an emergency and it couldn’t be helped. “

Lily glanced up from her teacup where she was
pretending to be interested in a tiny sliver of tealeaf floating at
the bottom. His clothes were rumpled and when he removed his hat
his hair was damp around his ears.

“Would you care to join us,” Harriett
asked.

“No, thank you. I only have a moment. What
happened with the appointment, Lily? I hope you rescheduled so I
can accompany you.”

Lily patted her napkin to her lips.
“Actually, Mr. Shellston and I did talk. He’s leased the Spring
Street building out to someone else.” Her aunt’s sharp intake of
breath was like a knife in Lily’s heart. Harriett’s teacup rattled
so violently John reached out and helped her set it back in its
saucer.

“Lily, dear, you didn’t tell me that. You
mean 33 Spring Street is not going to be our shop? Our home? But
we’ve prepaid Mr. Bartlett for the full year’s lease.” Her aunt sat
forward and grasped the white marble tabletop, her cup of tea
forgotten.

The look on John’s face spoke volumes. He
realized his mistake as Tante Harriett’s distress grew.

“Everything is going to be fine, Tante. Mr.
Shellston said he had another building that he is going to get
ready for us. It will only take a few days. That is all. He will
apply our lease money to it.”

Tante Harriett’s hand fluttered to her chest
as a sigh whistled through her lips. “Well, thank goodness for
that. Without a way to support ourselves what would become of
us?”

John’s expression was hard to read. “I have
to get back to the patient,” he said, glancing at the clock in the
lobby. “But first I’d like to know if you two would have dinner
with me tonight. And of course, it’s my treat.”

Lily was about to decline when Tante Harriett
nodded. “We’d love to join you, Dr. McCutcheon.”

“Six-thirty?

Tante Harriett nodded again.

“Done. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

John sliced into the mouth-watering filet as
it sizzled and popped, releasing the rich mesquite flavor. He
pushed a large hunk through his mashed potatoes, then placed it in
his mouth. He chewed, swallowed and wiped his mouth with his
napkin. “How are your dinners?”

“Delicious,” Lily said. “I did not expect
such fine cuisine here. One can survive on tea and crumpets for
only so long.”

“I’m glad. I hope you’re not offended by the
artwork?” He chuckled as he looked around the walls of the Lillian
Russell Room at the twenty or more paintings of nudes. All the
subjects were ivory skinned beauties, partially draped in velvets,
silks or some other finery.

“Oh, I think they’re beautiful. Every single
one,” Harriett said. She took a small sip from her wine goblet and
looked about. “Now, in Europe, we lean more toward impressionism,
mind you. But, we have our risqué painters, too. The prototypes for
these artists here, I’m sure. “

John smiled, enjoying the conversation. In
Boston, Emmeline hadn’t been too enthusiastic over the arts. She
would rather spend her time shopping at Faneuil Hall, looking for
the latest bauble or a new pair of finely made shoes. “Do you like
them, Lily?”

“I do. They’re all so different and yet, a
woman is a woman, yes?” she said without the least hint of coyness.
“I especially like that one.”

She pointed to a medium-sized painting
hanging above the door to the hotel lobby. A scantily clothed young
woman lay on her back in the tall grass, with her horse grazing
nearby.

Just then, the door swung open and Dustin
came through. He looked around the dining room and, with the few
diners on this Thursday evening, spotted them easily. He nodded to
John. Hanging his hat on the rack, he sauntered to their table.

“T
his must be
your aunt?” Dustin said as he approached, looking between Harriett
and Lily. “The one who traveled with you from Boston.”

“And you must be the young man who so
graciously saved my Lily from the drunken sot.” Harriett’s eyes
gleamed in the lamplight. Her face, an interesting maze of
wrinkles, powder and happiness, was alight with pleasure. “Lily
told me what happened. It sounded like something straight out of a
novel.”