Amon (17 page)

The Negro ignored the question. “Can you tell me where I can find Seth and Ryder Jones?”

“Seth and Ryder?” Amon asked in shock. “What do you want with them?”

“Dey are friends of mine,” he said casually.

Amon looked the man up and down a few times. How on earth did Seth and Ryder know this man? Well, the Joneses were from the South … and Ryder, he knew, hated slavery as much as any Yankee abolitionist. Maybe the Negro was looking to escape to Canada … “Okay.”

“You will give dem a message for me? I sent one, but have not seen dem yet.”

Amon stared at him, still too nervous to think straight. “Why not just go to town and find them yourself?” he asked, then immediately felt foolish. If the giant was an escaped slave, going to town would be out of the question due to the risk of being caught. And he was an Oberlin man, dedicated to equality among the races. Nerves or no nerves, his conscience demanded he assist this man. “Sure, I’d be happy to,” he managed.

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “You will give dem dis,” he instructed as he walked to where Amon stood and handed it to him.

Gingerly, he took it. “What is it?”

“Dat is for de bro-dars Jones. It tells dem what I need.” Without another word, he spun on his heel and strode out of the barn, his carriage as proud as a king’s.

Amon could only stare after him. After a few moments he shook himself out of his stupor. “What the … what just happened?” He knew he hadn’t imagined the whole thing – there was the note in his hand – but it was odd nonetheless.

He looked more closely at the note - not sealed, nor in any kind of envelope. Was he supposed to read it too? No – it wasn’t addressed to him. Odd stranger or no, it was none of his business. He shoved it in his pocket, glanced around, then walked to the open barn door. The man was gone by now, of course. Which meant there was nothing left to do but seek out Seth and Ryder and deliver the message. And wonder.

Sixteen

Newton returned to the hotel in time for dinner, still puzzling over the African he’d met in the woods the day before. Maybe he should’ve stopped Amon before he left and asked him, but he and Nettie seemed to be having a good time and he didn’t want to pull him away from her. So he’d asked Cutty, but Cutty didn’t seem to know anything.

The stranger had claimed he knew Thackary Holmes! A part of him didn’t want to find out more about his and Nettie’s louse of a birth father. And if anyone in Clear Creek knew him, it was only in passing – Thackary hadn’t been in Clear Creek long, though he’d still managed to cause a lot of trouble. If the African knew him, then he probably couldn’t be trusted.

With that in mind, he determined to talk not only to Amon but to Sheriff Hughes as well. The stranger might be up to no good. Judging from his clothes, he might be seeking a chance to rob some of the townsfolk.

He pushed the thought aside when his stomach growled, and headed for the dining room. But Mrs. Upton was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Nettie – perhaps she was upstairs.

“Howdy, Newton,” Seth called as he entered.

“Good evening.” Newton glanced around. “Where’s Eloise?”

“Upstairs with your sister – they should be down in a moment. Nettie seemed to be in good spirits.”

“Indeed. She’s having a grand time with Mr. Cotter.”

“What about you? Did you have fun too?”

Newton sighed. “I … had an interesting encounter. I really should tell your sheriff about it.”

Seth sat at the table. “Encounter?”

“Yes. I met a man in the woods. An odd sort of chap.”

Seth leaned forward and stared at him. “Really? How so?”

“He was African, for one. And huge.”

Seth’s eyes widened. “Well, that is odd around here … wait, you said African, not Negro? Did he have a funny accent?”

“Yes – that’s why I assumed he was from Africa. He didn’t sound like an American Negro.”

“Hmmmm …” Seth rubbed his chin. “Huge, you say. Just tall, or wide too?”

“Both.”

“He laugh a lot?”

Newton stared at him. “Yes, he did. Do you know him?”

Seth chuckled. “I might, actually. My brother and I know a fellow like you describe.”

“And he said
he
knew my father, Thackary Holmes,” Newton stated flatly.

“Well, he would’ve at least heard of him if he’s been hanging around these parts awhile. He and his wife usually like to keep to themselves, so they could’ve been camped outside of town for months for all I know.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“No, not at all. Quite the opposite. Though I suppose if someone had a mind to start something with him, he’d be a handful, big as he is.”

“How on earth do you know this man?” Newton asked, perplexed.

“Ryder and I met him and his wife a long time ago. Heck, we were just boys then. If it hadn’t been for the Awahnees, we’d probably be dead.”

“Awahnee?” Newton repeated. “Is he a free man?” Slavery had been a dead issue in Britain for a generation, but here it was still very much alive – and enough of a bone of contention to spark a civil war, to hear Ryder and Amon tell it.

“Oh yeah, he and his wife. They’re … well, how can I describe them? They just help folks out. They taught Ryder and me how to survive in the wild. They have good relations with the Indians. We first met them in what’s now the Arizona Territory and were surprised to discover later that they’d come up to Oregon.”

“When did you find that out?”

“A couple of weeks ago. Mr. Awahnee aided Deputy Bran and Apple and got them out of a tight fix right before you and Miss Nettie showed up.”

Newton sat back in his chair. “Intriguing. But what dealings would he have had with Thackary Holmes?”

“I have no idea. But I’ll let Ryder know you ran into him. Why don’t you ride out with us to look for them? If we find them, you can ask him yourself.”

Newton sighed heavily. “Perhaps. Or maybe you could ask him for me.”

“Sure, if you don’t want to go.”

He was about to comment when Nettie and Eloise entered. “Are we late?” Nettie asked.

Newton and Seth stood and pulled chairs out for them. “No. Mrs. Upton hasn’t shown up yet,” said Seth.

“I’m famished,” Nettie said. She looked around the room and finally sat. “It’s not like Mrs. Upton not to be here. She’s usually busying herself about the room until we arrive.”

“I wonder what’s keeping her?” Eloise asked.

They got their answer soon enough when Cutty came out of the kitchen, a spring in his step. “Wait’ll ya see what’s for supper!” He practically danced to the table, took a chair and sat.

“My, but you’re in a spritely mood,” Nettie commented with a smile.

“Mrs. Upton’s making somethin’ special for ya!”

“For us?” Nettie asked.

“Yep, you and yer brother.”

“How nice,” Nettie said with a smile.

Mrs. Upton came out of the kitchen then, pushing a cart. “Here we are! Sorry I’m a few minutes late, but Cutty changed my dinner plans and suggested I do something to make you two feel more at home.”

“How very kind,” Newton said. “What have you prepared?”

“Tonight I’m serving
Filet de Boeuf and Mushrooms,
fried potatoes, tomato salad and a special dessert.”

“My my!” Seth said around a grin. “Not the usual fried chicken and mashed potatoes, is it, Mrs. Upton?”

“Sounds wonderful,” Nettie added.

Mrs. Upton beamed, set a tureen of soup on the table and began to serve. Everyone watched as she happily took care of everyone, then disappeared back into the kitchen. Seth said the blessing and they began to eat. “I had no idea our dear Mrs. Upton knew anything about your country,” he said.

“Nor did I,” added Eloise.

“Yes, how did she know about a dish such as
Filet de Boeuf and Mushrooms?
” asked Nettie. “Why not simply say beef with mushrooms?”

Newton glanced at Cutty, who was slurping up his soup as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He finally noticed all eyes were on him. “Well, don’t look at me! She prob’ly got herself some fancy new cookbook.”

“Indeed, I’m sure that’s it,” Newton said, then began to eat.

Cutty’s eyes darted around the table before he resumed his meal and tried to hide his relief.

* * *

The next day, Cutty woke early, went downstairs and made sure he got to Mrs. Upton before his children did. After all, it wouldn’t do to have the woman inform Newton and Nettie that the menu last night had been his idea. As it was, he’d told Mrs. Upton it was something he’d seen in a book somewhere. He wasn’t about to tell her it was a note his own cook had written down and stuffed between the pages of a cookery book at his London townhouse.

He managed to have the conversation quickly, and was just finishing his last bite of leftover fried potatoes when Nettie entered the dining room. “Good morning, Cutty. It’s going to be a beautiful day.”

“How can ya tell? Ya ain’t been outside yet.”

“My room does have a window,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

He laughed at her wit. She was a fast one, he had to give her that. Must come from his side of the family. “Always keep my curtains drawn. I don’t like it when the sun shines in my eyes at first light.”

“Nothing shines in your eyes at first light. It takes at least an hour for it to reach that side of the hotel.”

He laughed again. “Okay, ya got me.”

“Someone around here has to keep you on your toes.” She sat and looked at the food on the table. “Oh dear, did I oversleep?”

“Nope, I just thought I’d help Mrs. Upton and set the table. Care for a corn muffin?”

“Thank you, don’t mind if I do,” she said and plucked one from a plate.

She’d just started to butter it when Newton joined them. “Did I oversleep?”

“No,” she answered. “Cutty beat us to it again.”

“At least you left something this time,” he told Cutty dryly.

Cutty rolled his eyes. “Ya spend a few winters half-starved, ya learn to pack it away when it’s in front of ya.”

“I meant no offense,” Newton assured him. “On the contrary, I admire you for surviving such an ordeal. By all means, man, eat your fill. You deserve to.”

Cutty bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling. “That’s … a mighty kind thing to tell a fella. A lot of folks would make fun of the situation.”

“Whatever for?” Nettie asked, appalled. “A man with no home, no money, no food? It’s a horrible state to be in, that much is certain.”

“Yeah, but that ain’t always what folks look at,” Cutty said. “It all comes down to the why of it.”

“You mean how you got that way,” Newton corrected.

“Me, you, Nettie, any of us. Some folks feel like you do, but most don’t.”

“Well, if someone winds up in that position through no fault of their own, then who wouldn’t admire them for surviving it?” Nettie asked.

Cutty hung his head. “I can think of a few.”

“One thing’s for sure,” Newton said. “Your circumstances have certainly left you blameless.”

Cutty’s head came up. “Blameless?”

“Of course. Here you are, volunteering your time to chaperone Nettie and Amon and doing a splendid job too, I might add. Which brings me to my point – would a man of unsavory character do such a thing?”

“He might for a few hot meals and a roof over his head,” said Cutty.

“I can see that,” Newton agreed. “But I’ve also seen your interactions with Nettie and Amon. Someone with no interest wouldn’t act such a way. The difference is, you care.”

Cutty looked away and stabbed at the last of his potatoes with his fork. “Speaking of Amon, any word he’s gonna come callin’ today?”

“Not yet,” Nettie said. “But how is one to know?”

“We could always visit him at the men’s camp,” Cutty suggested.

Nettie set down her fork and turned to Newton. “Could we? I think I’d like to see it.”

“How many men live there?” Newton asked.

“Not as many as used to – ‘bout a half a dozen or so. The only ones in the camp durin’ the day are Jasper and Amon – the others do odd jobs ‘round town or go out huntin’.”

“Hmm,” Newton mused. “I am curious to see how Mr. Cotter makes such beautiful furniture. All right, then – we’ll go after breakfast.”

“Lovely!” Nettie said, then took a bite of her muffin.

“Providing Seth will loan us his wagon,” Newton added.

“He hangs ‘round the hotel all day,” Cutty said. “Ain’t like he needs it.”

“I’ll ask him after we finish here,” Newton decided.

“Perhaps Amon could come back to town with us and have lunch,” suggested Nettie.

“Maybe if he has all his work done,” Cutty said. “From what I know of him, once he starts somethin’, he likes to finish it.”

As soon as they were done with breakfast they went to find Seth, only to see him coming down the stairs, obviously dressed to go riding. “Where ya goin’?” Cutty asked.

“Ryder and I have some business to attend to.”

“Does it involve yer wagon?”

“No, why?”

“We’d like to borrow it to go to the men’s camp if it’s all right with you,” Newton told him. “But if the horse you’re taking is usually used for the wagon …”

“No, it’s fine. I never use my own personal horse to pull a wagon. Ask Chase Adams at the livery stable – he’ll hitch up a couple for you. But Cutty, I was going to ask you for a favor. Would you mind watching the front desk for a few hours?”

“Me? Why me?” Cutty asked.

“I’d thought you’d all be hanging around the hotel until this afternoon. I suppose I could ask Mrs. Upton.”

“Could you?” Nettie asked. “I’d very much like for Cutty to come with us.”

Seth smiled and nodded. “I understand. I’ll talk with her right now.” He tipped his hat then strode toward the dining room.

“Whew!” Cutty exclaimed.

“What’s the matter?” Nettie asked with concern.

“Last thing
I
wanna do’s babysit a hotel! You two are more fun!” The three of them laughed, then headed for the livery stable.

It didn’t take long for Chase, the blacksmith, to hitch up Seth’s wagon for them. Newton helped Nettie onto the seat from one side, while Cutty scrambled up on the other. Once they were settled, Chase handed Cutty the reins.

Cutty stared at them and gulped.

“What's the matter?” Chase asked.

“No … um, nothin’,” Cutty said and took the reins out of his hand. He gripped them, trying not to think about how he’d only ever driven a wagon once before, and that for Ryder. Every other time, he’d been just a passenger.

“Tell Amon and Jasper hello for me, will you?” Chase asked.

Cutty gulped again. “Will do.” He took a deep breath and, just as he’d seen others do countless times, gave the horses a slap with the reins to get them moving. The wagon lurched forward and Cutty sighed in relief. “That wasn’t so hard,” he muttered to himself. Now all he had to worry about was how to get out to the men’s camp. How hard could steering a wagon be?