Chapter Eighteen
"I don't like that banker man," Langley admitted as he and Marston rode down the winding road toward town.
"Why is that?" Marston asked, moving the cart around a deep puddle in the muddy road.
Langley pulled his coat tighter to ward off the cool December air. "He says mean things to mama and she's always upset when he leaves."
"Bankers get mad if you don't pay them their money," Marston assured the boy.
"It's not just that, Marston," Langley insisted, a seriousness in his tone that wasn't generally there.
"What else is there?" Marston demanded. A silence that frightened him followed Marston's question. Buck's hooves slapped in the mud, the river rushed beside them and the birds sang in the trees but Langley remained completely silent.
"Boy, you ain't never had a problem talking so don't start having one now," Marston scolded, his voice tense with unease. "What else is there?"
Langley picked at the knee of his trousers. "Last time he was here he told mama he'd get his payment from her one way or the other even if it wasn't money he got and he was touching her face... Mama was scared, I could tell. I don't know exactly what that means but I know she's been real worried ever since."
Marston's clutched the reins in a white knuckled grip and his jaw popped as his teeth clenched. "And what did your mama tell him?"
Langley shrugged. "She just promised him she'd have his money and she begged him not to make us homeless." Langley met Marston's gaze, his blue eyes pleading. "You won't let him hurt mama, will you Marston?"
Marston shook his head and patted Langley's hand. "No, kid. There ain't nobody gonna hurt your mama."
Langley seemed satisfied with that answer and instantly his demeanor changed and he was once again bouncing around in the cart seat. "Do you know what's coming in a few days?" Langley asked.
"No," Marston replied honestly, his mind still on that bastard banker and the way he'd been threatening Rose. "What's coming?"
Langley laughed. "Christmas! How could you not know that? Mama doesn't ever have money for a present from the store but she always make me a new sweater and I always smile real big and tell her it's the best one I've ever gotten."
Marston felt his throat get tight. Langley was lucky to have a mother like Rose—there weren't very many like her. "You're a good kid, Langley."
Langley sighed. "I wish I could get mama something this year. I never have been able to get her a present for Christmas."
"You can," Marston replied. "Just pick out something at the mercantile and we'll see that she gets it."
Langley shifted in the seat and looked up at him. "But Marston I don't have money—I can't steal a Christmas present!"
Marston couldn't see why that would be a rule but he didn't tell Langley so. Instead he smiled. "You do plenty of work around that house, Langley, and you've earned a bit of money."
Langley's excitement increased ten-fold and the boy launched into a rambling, longwinded dialogue about just what he was going to get for his mama. Marston simply sat there grunting in response now and then.
His mind was on things other than Langley's conversation such as that bankers threats toward Rose and the realization that Marston had no idea what in the world to buy for the woman.
The first stop that Marston and Langley made upon arriving in town was Doctor Brinkley's office to send a wire and money to the bank in Millerton. Doctor Brinkley insisted that Rose usually sent her payment directly to Winston Meade but Marston had refused and demanded it be sent to the bank.
When Marston and Langley stepped into the H&H Mercantile the boy's eyes widened. "I can really get mama anything I want?"
Marston nodded as he walked to the case where the guns and ammunition were kept. "Yep. Whatever you want."
Marston knew exactly what he was going to do for Langley for Christmas. He was going to fix up that gun of Langston's. The boy was constantly rambling on about that gun and had even shown it to him more than once. Marston had known instantly that the gun was a good one and just needed to be cleaned, oiled and worked with. He knew he could have it working good come Christmas.
"Well, my stars! If it ain't Marston back again," Hester sneered as she came breezing in from the back office and pushed her giant spectacles up on her thin nose. Her cow eyes blinked several times as she stared up at him. "I see you finally got rid of that horrid beard."
Marston put on his smoothest smile and leaned against the counter. "Hello there, Hester. How did I survive live without gazing upon you all these months?"
"Probably about the same way I survived without the sight of you," she sniffed. "Tell me, are you still keeping the Widow Howell company?"
"Sure am," Marston replied, refusing to let he woman's mouth get under his skin. "I would like to purchase a few items.. that is if you ladies have figured out that's how a store works."
"Of course we do, sir," Hattie assured him, waddeling in on her stump-like legs. "Tell me, how is Rose? Are you still carrying her supplies?"
'I say we hit her right in the nose,' that voice chimed in. 'Or would hers be considered a snout?'
'Aren't you my conscience? Shouldn't you be telling me not to hit her?' Marston demanded.
'What the hell gave you that idea? I just like to make you talk to yourself.'
Marston let out a cough to cover his chuckle and shook his head to clear his rambling thoughts. "Nice to see you again, Hattie. You're looking well. You know my Rose is a real good seamstress. I'm sure she'd be able to let that dress out a foot or two."
"Well I never!" Hattie exclaimed, covering her heart with a meaty hand.
The charming grin never left Marston's face. "Now ladies if you'll be so kind..."
"Tell me, Marston, are you going to make an honest woman out of that trollop or simply live in sin with her forever?" Hester inquired.
Marston's patience snapped. He slammed his fist upon the counter with so much force, the dried fruit rack fell and scattered across the floor. Hester and Hattie both leapt backward and Langley gasped from across the store.
Marston's golden eyes flashed. "Your bravery is commendable, ladies. Not many grown men have the nerve to rile me." Marston leaned closer and lowered his voice. "There's a good damn reason for that too and it's a reason you sisters are gonna learn all too well if you speak another ill word about my woman."
"Yeah you witches need to leave my mama alone," Langley agreed.
Hester's jaw trembled while Hattie's wobbled. "Of course," Hattie whispered politely. "We apologize. My sister and I were out of line."
"Glad we could agree on that," Marston snarled. He turned his attention to Langley who was watching him as if he were some kind of hero. It turned Marston's stomach to be looked at in such a manner. "Aren't you supposed to be finding something for your mama?" he grumbled and Langley quickly went back to searching.
"So, what is it we can do for you, Marston?" Hattie questioned accommodatingly.
Marston turned back to the sisters and forced a polite smile to his own face. "That's more like it," Marston said. "That's the treatment I expect to receive when I come into a store to spend my hard earned money."
Hester snorted. "I'm sure you earned that money at gunpoint."
Hattie elbowed her in her bony ribs. "Hush or he's going to kill us," she whispered sharply.
Marston raised a brow. He was fairly certain that he hadn't threatened to kill him but if these women wanted to think him capable of their murder that was fine with him. It might just cause them to hold their tongues a bit better.
"If you ladies would be so kind as to gather up some gun oil, rags and cleaning rods for me, I'd be much obliged." Marston tipped his hat. "I've gotta find the trollop something for Christmas."
Hattie nodded and quickly rushed off to do as he asked while Hattie stood there and stared him down. Marston simply shrugged and turned away. He had no interest in having a battle of wills with the scrawny, cow-eyed bitch of a woman.
Marston began searching the store over for something he could give to Rose. He'd never in his life given a present to anyone and he'd never in his life celebrated Christmas. What did a man buy the woman he loved?
As far as Marston knew Rose didn't own a bit of jewelry. Wasn't every woman supposed to have jewelry? Marston's mind made up he made his way to the tiny glass case that held what small selection of jewelry the H&H mercantile had to offer.
"We have a larger selection in the catalogue," Hattie informed him, stepping over. "You can place an order and it will arrive in two weeks."
"Well ma'am, this is going to be a Christmas present so I don't really have the time to wait." His eyes found a necklace. The cameo was soft pink with a cream flower motif and the gold chain was delicate but strongly forged.
It was perfect—just like his Rose.
"Are you interested in the necklace?" Hattie asked, circling the counter and pulling a key from her pocket. Marston nodded and while Hattie went about fetching the necklace, Marston glanced behind him and saw Hester scrambling about the story attempting to pick up all the dried fruit Marston had scattered.
Marston's first instinct was to let the damned woman pick it up herself but then he remembered that Langley was watching and he thought of what Rose would want the boy to learn. Grudgingly, Marston stooped down and helped gather up all the pieces he could find.
Once the mess was picked up, Marston walked to the cash register. "Langley, you about done?"
The boy shook his head. "Why don't you just go on and I'll finish up and meet you outside?"
Marston frowned. "Why the devil would you want me to do that?"
Langley stuck his hands on his thin hips. "Please?"
Marston threw his hands up and turned to Hattie. "How much do I owe you for my things?"
Hattie jotted down numbers on a piece of paper. "That'll be fifteen for the necklace—" Marston whistled low but nodded. "And another fifty cents for the gun supplies."
Martston pulled twenty-five dollars from his pocket and he could feel Hester's eyes burning holes in those paper bills as he did so. "This'll cover that, the fruit I spilled and whatever the boy chooses to get."
Hattie nodded and put the money in the register. She wrapped the necklace in piece of soft clothes and placed it in a tiny sack before handing it and the sack of gun cleaning supplies to Marston.
"Take your time, Langley," Marston urged as he headed for the door. "You wouldn't want to miss something and make the wrong decision."
Langley simply nodded and Marston was chuckling as he left the store. Marston placed his new supplies in the cart and led Buck and the cart over to the blacksmith.
The man currently pounding a horseshoe, stopped swinging his hammer and smiled welcomingly at Marston. "You've been around here before—I recognize you."
"Yeah, I'm back," Marston replied to the man who was nearly as big as he was.
Tray Narramore held out a dirty hand and Marston shook it. "If it wasn't for you being a brute like myself I probably never would have recognized you without that beard."
Marston rubbed at his jaw. "It was itchy."
Tray just chuckled and folded his arms over his chest. "So what can I do for you?"
"Buck here seemed to be favoring his left front leg on the way into town and I thought you might be able to work on his shoe."
"Sure I can do that," Tray agreed. "I figured you for a man who did that work himself."
Marston shrugged and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. "When I take a notion to I do. Today I'm not feeling the notion."
Tray laughed. "Well I'm glad for that. If folks took a notion to start doing everything themselves I wouldn't make near as much money."
"Alright then," Marston hoisted his saddlebags from the back of the cart, unwilling to leave them for long. "I'll be back in a while to pick him up."
***
Marston was waiting on the mercantile boardwalk when Langley emerged nearly twenty minutes later with a burlap sack tossed over his shoulder.
"Where's Buck and the cart?"
"Bucks getting his hoof seen to," Marston replied. "He should be just about done. Did you buy the whole store?"
Langley laughed. "No, you didn't leave me that much money."
"Well did you at least get what you wanted for your mama?"
"Sure did," Langley nodded enthusiastically. "This is gonna be the best Christmas we've had yet."
"I'm sure your mama will like the gift ya got her," Marston assured him as he tossed his cigarette into the mud.
"That's not the only reason it's gonna be better this year," Langley argued. "What makes it even better is that you're here now and me and mama aren't alone."
Marston's throat tightened. "Thanks kid," he whispered, embarrassed by the hoarseness he could hear. "I've sure as hell never been the reason someone had a good Christmas before."
Langley smiled up at him and in that moment Marston realized that he would, without a moments hesitation, do anything for that boy. He would gladly buy up everything the mercantile had to offer, cook runny eggs or even take a bullet in the heart just to see that boy cared for.
It was a shock to his system to realize that two people meant more to him than his own life. Rose and Langley had quickly becoming all that mattered in the world—they were his world. Their touches, their smiles, their acceptance and their warmth had quickly destroyed walls that Marston had been constructing for three decades.
Marston put his hand on Langley's shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. "What do you say we get that flea bitten nag and head back to the house? Your mama is probably starting to worry."
"More than likely she's done got the floors swept and mopped and is hoping we take a bit longer so she can scrub the walls," Langley countered.
Marston chuckled. "Yeah, I'd say you're right."
The two headed off for the blacksmith shop but were stopped by Doctor Brinkley calling for them as he rushed down the street. "What is doc?" Marston questioned, meeting the older man on the muddy street.
Doctor Brinkley handed him an envelope. "The bank sent you a wire back. I saw that you were still here so I wanted to make sure you got it before you left town."
"Thanks doc," Marston replied, wondering what the bank would have sent him back so quickly. He tipped his head. "We're gonna be on our way now."
Marston led Langley to the blacksmith and then stood against the outside wall as he opened the envelope. He immediately realized that the three hundred dollars he'd sent to them was inside. Wit h a frown, Marston pulled out the enclosed letter.
Marston, (you failed to provide us a last name so please excuse the informal address)
We were surprised to receive your letter and the money for Rose Howell's account. According to our records, her account has been paid in full for nearly four years. The banker you mentioned, Winston Meade, no longer works for our establishment and we hold no responsibility for his actions if he has been taking money from Mrs. Howell. We have refused the payment and advise you to contact the authorities regarding Winston Meade's behavior.
Sincerely,
Millerton Bank and Trust
Marston growled and shoved the letter back into his pocket. Authorities his ass. Winston Meade had been stealing money from Rose and Langley for over three years. He'd been taking the food out of their mouths and the clothes off their backs and threatening Rose while he did so. Marston would protect his newfound family and Winston Meade would pay for his lies and thievery—and Marston would be the one who dealt out the punishment. The man was going to live to regret his actions. Then again, maybe he wouldn't.
***
"Mama's gonna love that necklace you got her," Langley said as the two rode through the woods toward the cabin. "She doesn't have anything that pretty. I bet it'll make her cry."
Marston grumbled as he shook his head. "I don't want her to cry."
"They'll be good tears," Langley promised. "The kind that means she's really really happy."
"What did you get her?" Marston asked.
"Mama has always loved hummingbirds so I got her a little ceramic hummingbird that she can put on the mantle. We don't have pretty things on our mantle. Mama sold all our pretty stuff to buy food."
Marston felt his chest ache for that woman and vowed once again that she would have everything she could possibly want for as long as he lived.
"There was more than that in that sack of yours," Marston noted. "What else did you get?"
"Don't worry about it!" Langley exclaimed, clutching the sack close to him.
Marston raised a brow and snorted. "Well alright then. Apparently them damn mood swings run in the family."
Langley just smiled