Number Three

Chapter 3-XXX

         Nate wobbled a bit as he stood in the shadow of the alley.  Drinking on an empty stomach hadn’t been too wise he guessed.   He looked at the note again, he wondered just who this “Mrs. Young” was.  Gazing up the hill, he groaned out loud, between the whiskey and the long coach ride, he was almost done in.  “Oh Hell!” he roused himself and set out.  Twenty hot and sweaty minutes later he walked out onto the level road in front of the white house that had been his goal. 

Breathing hard and now completely sober, he lifted the worn, wet Stetson off of his head and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his dusty shirt.  “Whew, that’ll teach me.” he said to himself as he crossed the road to the white picket gate of the white picket fence surrounding the white two story house.  “Lord, that’s a lot of white.” Nate opened the gate and walked up the neat brick walk to the stairs leading to the stoop.  As he was about to lift his foot to the first stair, an imperious female voice rang out, “Just where do you think you are going, buster?” 

         He turned to face a stern faced woman, of indeterminate age, dressed in a plain dust colored dress, a lighter tan apron, deerskin gloves, sturdy brogans that looked to be made for a boy, and a broad straw hat that was tied with a string under her chin.  A sheen of perspiration graced her heat reddened face.  A wisp of glossy seal brown hair escaped from under the brim of the hat, it drooped fetchingly across her cheek, framing her penetrating, coffee brown eyes and full lips. “Kinda warm, ain’t it missus.” offered Nate with his best smile.  “I don’t need you to tell me what the weather is young man! I’ll ask you again, what do you want?” the woman retorted.  No hint of a smile in return.  Nate ducked his head in shyness all of sudden.  He felt tongue tied, so he offered the note that Wally had sent with him.  “Ma’am” was all he could get out as she took the note.  Her eyes widened as she read the contents of the note.  She thrust the paper into a pocket on the apron and looked at him straight on, “Well! Ephraim forgive me, I should have recognized you.”  Come in, we’ll talk.” and she swept up the stairs.  Nate followed and hurried to move ahead of her and open the door for her.  His Pa had tried to teach him manners around women, but he hadn’t really taken to them until he had been forced to learn at the Army social events in Washington D.C.  As a junior officer he had had the ‘duty’ of dancing with his superior’s wife, his forward daughters, and any of the other general officer’s women that asked him.  Nate had accompanied many women on lazy afternoon pick-a-nick’s while their powerful men had made war on their Southern brothers.  He knew how to be courtly. 

         Twisting the handle and pushing the door to open it, bowed slightly and said, “Ma’am”.  “Humph” she snorted as she swept past him into her front hallway.  He pulled his hat from his head as he crossed the threshold, twisting the hat in his hands as he waited for “Mrs. Young” to unglove her hands, and hang up her straw hat.  She motioned to him to follow her and they both walked back into the kitchen on the back corner of the house.  As they entered the room, an older version of “Mrs. Young” and a slim, young Mexican woman were there cleaning potatoes, and carrots were waiting for their turn in the wash sink.  Bowls of peas, unshucked, and long green beans, unsnapped took up space on the large table in the center of the room.  “Mother, could I ask you to let us talk alone for a bit?” the “Mrs. Young” asked.  “My Lord yes, I surely can.  It is time for me to rest these old bones anyway.  Who’s this handsome young man, your new beau?” the older woman teased.  “Mother! No! Now please, just a little while and take Carmen with you.”

         After the sassy old woman left, “Mrs. Young” indicated that Nate was to pick a chair and sit down.  She asked him, “Would like a  drink of water?  Errr….Ephraim…”   “No thank you ma’am, I’m just fine.” Nate smiled in return, “I just need a room like the note says.” The woman frowned, her mouth opened to reply, but she closed it again with a snap, and her head dropped to look at the note again. Nate sat there, hat in hand, waiting for her to say something. He was getting increasingly nervous in the silence. “Had he misjudged Wally?” he wondered to himself. “No…No, all of the right signs and counter-signs were there. Just what was going on here with ‘Mrs. Young’?  Finally, and with a deep breath she asked, “Would you like to see the room?”  Nate relaxed, “Yes ma’am, that would be fine.”  “Please, you can use my given name, here in the house, at least.  I am Josephine.” she offered as she rose to lead him toward the other back corner of the house.  “ I think that you will be more comfortable on this floor…just in case.  Well, you know…just in case.”  Josephine had arrived at a closed door.  Nate tensed a little in anticipation of the door opening. 

         He had not had good luck lately, opening closed doors, literally and in his ‘work’ too.  “Nate, you are acting like scared colt just off the range.  Ease up, this is a friendly house.” he told himself.  The door fell open when Josephine twisted the handle.  Of course, there was no threat lurking in the dimly lit room.  He was being really silly he knew but it was a hard habit to drop.  Being careful had become second nature since those first days out from his meeting in Brigham’s office. The rattle of the opening window shade startled Nate out of his thoughts of the past.  The room brightened, but the angle of the sun behind the ridge cast a shadow on this part of the house so it wasn’t too bright.  And it was cooler than the kitchen too. As Josephine raised the sash window, he realized that she was talking…”and another thing, breakfast is mush and bacon at 5 a.m., sharp; supper is at 6:30 each evening.  If you aren’t there, you’ll have to be satisfied with leftovers.  Any questions?”  Nate smiled, “Well ma’am, how much do you charge for that?” “That’ll be a $1.00 a week, if you want your laundry done, you’ll have to speak to Carmen and pay her separately. Anything else?” Josephine looked at him expectantly. 

         Nate wanted to know if there was a ‘Mr. Young’ around so he asked, “Who else lives here?” Josephine blushed, then frowned; she looked him straight in the eye and said, “Just us, as you have seen already, and occasionally a poor soul on an errand for the Lord.”  Nate could see that he had angered her, though he didn’t know why. She had answered him…sort of.  Their awkward standoff was suddenly interrupted by a loud knock on the front door.  Josephine swept by him towards the sound. Nate followed her.  When she opened the door, young Wally stood there with Nate’s portmanteau.  “This is for Ephraim, I was asked to bring it here” he lifted the case to hand it to her.  Josephine stood aside and motioned Nate forward to take his parcel.  “Thanks Wally, here take this nickel for your trouble, that hill climb is a killer.”  Nate swapped him the coin for the portmanteau.  Then he said to the young man, “Could you come with me tomorrow and help me find a saddle horse?”  Wally nodded yes and asked, “What time, sir?”  Nate considered what he had to do before he went out tomorrow and decided, “How about straight up noon? At the Bucket of Blood?”  Wally squeezed the nickel with a happy grin and said, “You betcha, I’ll be there!”  Nate turned away from the door and Josephine shut it.  “Dinner will be in two hours, don’t be late. And there is a pump and towel on the side of the house.” She pursed her lips in a stern look and strode away. Nate watched her retreat, then, walked back to his room.  He guessed she thought he needed to wash his hands.  What he really needed was a bath.