To Becker's dismay, the circuit judge was Judge Stack, and he sat in Becker's chair glowering as the sheriff told him everything that happened. With a surprising show of support, Avery confirmed every word and added, that the circuit judge was duty bound to make his visits whether he liked the outcomes or not.
Slightly cowed, Stack filled out some papers, signed them and left copies for the sheriff before leaving town without even pausing for a drink.
"Avery- Mr. Mayor, I'm doggone flabbergasted!"
"Better get used to it, Sheriff. Now, let's discuss the bills I've been receiving from Miss DuPrave."
John burst into the sheriff's office and handed him his copy of the paper, eagerly announcing that he wrote the article about the shooting of Mr. Wilkes.
"Runnin' a tad behind with the news ain't we? He's already back on his feet." Becker teased.
"So much was happening, Aaron didn't know what to cover first. We decided for countynewity, that was Aaron's word, to print the stories in order. He did the story on Miss Holden and it went to press first."
"So much for continuity." The Mayor said, chuckling. "Hope Aaron proofread the article," he winked at the Sheriff.
"I'll be sure to read it real careful, John, and congratulations on your first story." Becker grinned at the boy.
John beamed and hurried out, racing to tell the next customer.
"Speaking of that story, have you seen Wilkes lately? Enid tells me he's just wandering around town like he's lost."
"I think he's gettin' his legs back and comin' to grips in his head. Don't imagine he could rush right back and work for Mayhew so soon." Becker, slapped his leg with the newspaper.
"It's been a while now, Dan. Maybe we should get Doc to have a talk with him."
"You mean me, don't you, Avery."
"Mr. Mayor, Sheriff."
"When it's stable cleanin' jobs you want done, it's Avery." With a bold stare, Becker dared him to argue.
****
Aaron stood in front of Harriet's desk studying Cassie Nolan as she read the article she had asked him to write. On the floor by the shelves sat a large carton of books, newly arrived on the stage, and as yet, unpacked.
"You may need more space soon," he teased, as she handed the paper to him.
"That's perfect, Mr. Trenholme, thank you. Yes, I might. Harriet told me to order what I thought would be best for the school, and some more new novels for here."
"First off, it's Aaron. Mr. Trenholme makes me sound like some stuffy character out of Dickens."
"You've read Charles Dickens!"
"Harriet dared me to read Great Expectations . . . I actually enjoyed it."
Cassie laughed and stood up, holding out her hand. "Very well, Aaron, and it's Cassie to you." Her hand felt strong and warm in his and there was a second of disconcerting eye contact.
"Okay, so uh, it's alright to print this as it is?"
"Absolutely, and please submit the bill—"
Now Aaron laughed. "Is that the school teacher coming out in you? Submit?"
She blushed. "I guess it was."
They stood in awkward silence a moment then he asked after Harriet.
"I haven't seen her for a while and I didn't want to bother her at the cabin."
"She's busy getting her things in order. She received a telegraph that her books had arrived in Seymore and were being held pending her arrival." He smiled, and her cheeks tinted again. "I think you could call on her, she might enjoy the company."
"Thank you, I will. And I've enjoyed your company too, Cassie. Uhm, I'll get this ready for our next edition." He waved the sheet of paper and departed with a half bow.
Outside, he took a deep breath and asked himself what the hell he thought he was thinking.
****
Harriet answered the door and smiled in surprise. "Aaron!"
"I hope this isn't inconvenient."
"Not at all. Come in." She backed away to let him enter and immediately apologized for the mess.
He gazed around at the trunks and personal belongings. The scene made his chest cramp slightly. "So you are really doing this?"
"I am. My shipment has arrived in Seymore and it's just a question of me getting there to collect it now."
"I can't say I'm not disappointed." He fiddled with his hat in his fingers. "I was kind of hoping—"
"It wasn't going to be, Aaron. I've enjoyed your company and your friendship but beyond that, I still have – things to deal with. My work is helping me through those, but it will take a lot more time yet."
He nodded and sighed. There it was, the last bullet. "So when do you leave?"
"I'm planning on the Friday stage." She laughed lightly. "I don't think I'll be a popular passenger with all this."
"Friday's actually a good day. All the regular mail comes in today, Friday is usually just one or two people and sometimes even empty."
She smiled and looked around the room and he held out a hand. "I should let you get back to this, I just wanted to- I wanted- I wondered if we might have a last dinner together – at dinner time?" He grinned.
"I would like that. Can we make it tonight?" She waved a hand at the clutter. "I'll need all day tomorrow to finish up everything."
"Tonight is great. Six? Seven?"
"Six sounds lovely. See you then." She followed him to the door and waved goodbye.
****
Intermittent gusts of wind swept up the main street and dull, heavy clouds brought day to a premature end. Lamps came on in front of a few businesses, and some began closing shutters and bringing in anything that might get blown away. The first spatters of rain forecast another storm, and when Harriet heard the knock on her door she thought Aaron had come early to miss the coming cloudburst.
"Mister Wilkes!"
"Good evening - well not so good an evening. May I step in?"
"Oh. Oh, yes. Of course." She backed away as he stepped inside, closing the door against the weather.
"I looked for you at the library but the young lady there said you had left."
"Yes, she is the new librarian. I'm going away." She wet her lips. "Was there something you wanted to see me about?"
"Yes, I'll be leaving soon myself and I wanted to say goodbye and to thank you for your help at the hotel." His expression was flat and his voice cold.
"That was terrible. I just reacted to the moment without thinking. I'm glad it worked out for you." She began to feel uncomfortable.
"Not so much for your friend."
She detected harshness in the statement, and moved casually toward her dresser.
"Amanda was a very troubled woman. I did what I could for her—"
"Yes, you did." Wilkes stood facing her, legs apart, eyes wild in the lamplight. "Between you both. You made that cowboy pay dearly, didn't you. And then when you didn't want anything to do with the Governor you arranged to have me pay for your displeasure."
"Pardon? What are you saying?"
"She met me in the hall before I went into your room. I knew something was up with her, and then you open the door and let her shoot me." Wilkes was breathing fast, his head began to throb, and he was becoming agitated.
"You're talking wildly, Mr. Wilkes, I think perhaps you should leave." Harriet moved beside the dresser.
"I want the money I gave you from the Governor."
"What?" Harriet reached for her purse. "I don't have it. It has been spent on—"
"Then you'll make it up!" He shouted and moved toward her angrily.