Horse With No Name (2 page)

Julia began to weigh the consequences of
screaming and was about to draw breath to do so when a voice came
out of the night behind the men.

"Let her go."

Julia couldn't see anything. She ranged her
head around wildly, but the dark mass of tree trunks was all that
she could see.

The two men spun around, letting go of her
arms. Julia was unprepared and fell to her knees.

Silence.

Second Man whispered, "Who's there?"

Julia rose from her knees and stumbled
forward. First Man reached for her arm, trying to grab her again,
when the voice came again, loud and sharp, "Do not do that."

First Man withdrew his hand as from a hot
stove and Julia kept moving. She didn't recognize the voice but
walked as quickly as she could toward it. A hand reached out. She
saw the tiny flash of flesh in the velvet blackness. She reached
and grabbed it; a drowning woman being pulled to shore.

The two men behind her must have recovered
their wits and drunken bravado.

"I'll cut you down," First Man said and began
moving to where Julia was standing.

The stranger's voice beside her came again.
"Stay where you are."

First man made a scoffing noise, and kept
moving, “Piss off."

A shot rang out, wild and eclipsing in the
quiet. Julia jumped as though she'd been bitten. First Man howled
and leapt back. His saucer eyes flashed like fireflies.

The voice beside Julia came again, "I said,
leave her alone."

Both men froze. The air fairly crackled in
the grove of trees.

"Go, Miss Thom. Go back to the dance."

Julia turned and finally recognized who was
coming to her aid. It was Mr. Hunter, the town clockmaker. He had a
tiny silver pistol in his left hand. He took his eyes off the men
for a second, "Go on."

Julia took a step sideways and then heard the
whisper of leaves and scuffle of boots. The men disappeared,
melting into the darkness. For a few moments, she and Mr. Hunter
stood listening, and then the sounds were gone.

The clockmaker turned and offered Julia his
elbow. "Let's go back inside."

Two

The brouhaha that ensued when Hunter and Julia
entered the school embarrassed her greatly. As Hunter guided her
over the threshold, the adrenaline that had been surging through
her body abandoned her all at once. She stumbled, righted herself,
and then felt her knees buckle. Hunter wrapped his arm tightly
around her waist and guided her to a chair near the door. Dancers
turned. The chatter in the room magically evaporated like
steam.

Betty Mitchell ran over to her friend.
"Julia, are you okay? What's happened?"

Julia couldn't answer. Her throat wouldn't
work. Nor would her composure. Betty knelt down beside the chair,
and Julia's head collapsed onto her shoulder.

"I'll get her some water," Mr. Hunter said
and disappeared.

The band stopped playing. Knots of people
formed around Julia's chair. Merrick waded through them to get to
her. Millie Jones, not to be outdone in the drama department,
fainted, though she had no reason, as Julia hadn't said anything
yet. She had to be fanned and consoled, and for this Julia was
actually grateful. It took part of the spotlight off her.

Hunter returned to Julia's side with a glass
of water.

Merrick turned to Hunter. "What
happened?"

Hunter explained the part of the scene that
he had wandered into. "I was walking by, out for my evening stroll,
and I heard voices."

James Hunter was several inches taller than
Julia and had dark, curly hair that looked perpetually messed on
his head, as though someone had just ruffled it for him. He was
clean-shaven, and smelled not unpleasantly of some sort of oil
Julia assumed he used in his trade. His suit and vest were dark
with a fine white pinstripe and, appropriately, the watch chain
hanging across his mid-section looked substantial. Though the suit
was well made, it seemed a size or two too large for the man. She
wondered if he'd lost weight recently.

Julia looked at him, questioning, "You could
hear me over all the music and noise from the dance?"

Hunter nodded. "I wasn't on Elm Street, out
front. I was on Heather Street, in the back of the school. It was
quite obvious while you were talking to those men that you were
afraid."

When Hunter finished explaining, Merrick
turned and scanned the faces of the crowd around him. He found Walt
Sheehan standing a few feet away behind several onlookers. The
constable jerked his head toward the front door. Walt pulled his
banjo strap over his head and handed the instrument to Edgar
Finnegan. He and Merrick disappeared into the darkness out the
front door of the schoolhouse.

Julia looked up and found James Hunter
standing a few feet away looking worried. To his left, the
recovered Millie Jones sat on a chair, fanning herself and watching
the scene, enraptured. On Hunter's right was Lily Cecil, a new
employee at the Finnegan's hotel, whom Julia had only met once or
twice. She had one hand on Hunter's arm. Beside and behind these
three, the eyes of everyone else in the room were trained on
Julia.

She took a few shuddering deep breaths and
wiped her eyes with the handkerchief that appeared in her right
hand. Her mind was having trouble grasping all that was happening
and had happened. She felt herself shiver and when she looked to
one side, noticed one of her students, Katherine Elias, kneeling on
the floor beside her. Julia reached out and they held hands. Betty
stayed crouched in front of Julia, providing a bit of a barrier
from the others, for which Julia was grateful.

Merrick and Walt returned moments later,
lanterns in hand. They set them on a table near the front door.

"Any sign of them?" Mayor Billy asked.

Merrick shook his head. "Did you recognize
them?" he asked Julia.

She shook her head.

"What about you?" Merrick turned to Hunter
who also responded in the negative.

Walt stayed back while Merrick stepped
through the crowd to stand beside Julia. Katherine stepped out of
the way. The constable crouched down, resting his backside on his
heels. "Tell me as much as you remember about them," he said
quietly. "Do you remember what they were wearing or any other
details?"

Julia took a deep breath and sat up a little
straighter. Merrick's face was below hers and it was a new
experience to be looking down at him.

He continued, "Anything might be helpful,
Julia. What accent did they have?"

It was a good question. Nearly everyone in
Canada was very recently from somewhere else, or their parents
were. Julia closed her eyes. "English," she said. "Not posh.
Rough."

"Thick English?" Merrick asked, "As though
they'd been raised there?"

"Yes."

"What else?"

"They smelled of whisky. At least the first
one did. He's the one who got right up close to me." She
shuddered.

"Good. That's good. Anything else?"

"One of them was chewing tobacco. Not the one
with the knife. The other one." She cast her mind back, reluctantly
closing her eyes. "The first one called the other one Bill. They
were wearing long coats. Like stockmen. And they both had hats on.
Black, I think." She was quiet for a few more seconds, searching
her memory for clues. The room was silent, waiting. Finally she
opened her eyes. "That's it. I don't remember any more."

"That's fine. You did well." Merrick stood
up. "They could be drifters, or new drovers on a ranch. I'll have
to ask around. We'll find them. Don't worry." He looked at Julia
with concern, their mutual embarrassment about Millie Jones'
matchmaking evaporating.

Merrick turned to Hunter and began asking him
similar questions, but the clockmaker wasn't able to add much new
information.

Though it was early, the dance was finished
for that night. Heaped onto the residual fear Julia felt, was guilt
at spoiling the event for the townspeople. She tried to protest
when people began packing up their food, and gathering their coats,
but Betty wouldn't hear her protestations.

"It's not your fault, Julia. We are your
friends. We want to help."

Betty helped Julia gather her shawl and
bag.

As she began to leave the building with Betty
and her husband, Christopher, a thought suddenly occurred to her.
She turned and found Merrick standing close by, conferring with
Mayor Billy, Walt and Edgar Finnegan. "They knew who I was."

Merrick's eyebrows drew closer together.
"Really?"

"Yes, they called me by name."

Three

Elise Campbell had fallen and torn her stockings.
Grit and small bits of gravel were ground into the soft skin on her
knee. The girl sniffled as Julia wiped blood carefully away and
dabbed the wound with a soft cloth.

This was one aspect of the job of
schoolteacher that Julia had not been prepared for; she was mother
hen during the day to all the children who filled the schoolhouse.
Raised as an only child, she was unprepared for the maternal
feelings that were growing within her with each passing day. Elsie
was just the latest in a string of injuries that had befallen the
pupils on that Monday. Julia wasn't sure if it was because she was
rattled from the events of the dance two nights previous, but there
seemed to be some sort of curse on the classroom. Edgar Butters
tripped first thing in the morning and banged his head on the side
of Julia's desk. Luckily the boy's skull appeared to be impervious
to ill treatment, and he was laughing about it with the other boys
in the yard at lunch. A bird flew into one of the windows and
landed with a soft thud in the yard. That accident had turned into
a science lesson. Julia found a basket and laid an old tea towel in
the bottom. She and the students all trooped outside and gathered
the bird up, bringing it inside, away from predators. It was a
purple finch, which brought on discussions of migration and eating
habits, which Julia much preferred to rote teaching of the
multiplication tables.

But the catastrophes weren't over yet. After
lunch the two youngest pupils got into a spat, the genesis of which
Julia was still not sure she understood. They had to be separated,
which caused them both to sulk for the remainder of the day. And
then, just as Julia was locking up the doors to go home, Elise came
up the schoolhouse stairs, weeping with her bloody knee on
display.

"There," Julia said, giving the knee a final
swipe with her cloth, "it's all clean. Feel better?" She looked up
from where she was kneeling in front of Elise. The child was
shuddering softly with the leftover breaths of weeping. She had the
end of one of her braids in her mouth. Julia reached up and removed
it. "Come on," she said, "I'll walk you home."

The girl's dark eyes brightened at this. She
wiped her nose on her sleeve.

The day before, Sunday, Julia had woken in an
unfamiliar bed. It took her a few moments to realize she was in the
Mitchells' spare bedroom. They had coddled her; making her a lovely
breakfast of fresh boiled eggs, thick slices of bacon and fresh
baked scones. Together they walked to church and bumped into
Merrick on their way.

Merrick and Julia fell into step a few houses
down from the school that would be operating as the church. Merrick
was wearing what Julia had come to recognize as his Sunday suit. He
had on the black, wide-brimmed hat he always wore. Julia had never
seen Merrick look untidy and today was no exception. He was
clean-shaven, and the silver watch-chain on his vest gleamed. Some
men look ill-suited to their profession; the thin cook or the
sickly doctor. Merrick was not one of these. He was tall and
imposing, and when at rest his expression was often solemn. Julia
knew him to be kind and fair, but criminals would not make that
assumption at first glance. He knew how to use his height and
stature to his advantage. Now his blue-green eyes looked at her
cautiously.

“How are you?” the constable asked.

“Fine, thank you. And thank you for last
night."

"I did nothing. Mr. Hunter deserves all the
credit."

"I am so grateful to him. But also to you.
And everyone." She glanced back briefly at the Mitchells, who
walked arm-in-arm.

Merrick looked down at her. "Today I'm going
to ride out to Middle Lake Ranch and talk to Herbert Green. He's
got several new drovers, I think, and I want to talk to them."

Julia thought about this for a minute. "I
should go with you."

Merrick stopped in his tracks, and stared at
her. "You must be joking."

"No, I'm not. You need to identify the men,
and Mr. Hunter and I are the only people who can do that."

The Mitchells caught up to them and Merrick's
feet began to move forward again by rote. "Don't be ridiculous.
I'll ask at the ranch, and if anyone acts suspicious or doesn't
have a good explanation for where they were last night, I'll bring
them in. You can identify them then, if necessary."

Merrick seemed to be waiting for her to
protest but when she didn't he nodded gently to himself.

She wouldn't confess as much to Merrick, but
she was relieved he had turned down her idea. After church she
wanted to spend the rest of the day making herself a bath and then
soaking in it for as long as the water stayed warm.

Elise didn't speak while they walked down the
street toward her home, but she held Julia's hand as she limped.
Julia was quiet, also. Her bath the day before had been just what
the doctor ordered, and the Mitchells had insisted she join them
again that night for their Sunday roast dinner. They invited her to
sleep there again, but she declined this time, wanting to get back
to a routine that felt normal. Hoping that by doing so, she would
begin to feel less shattered and anxious.