NoRegretsColeNC (7 page)

The old
man in the dirty overalls shook his head. His long, stringy hair swung from
side to side. “You ain’t much good for anything else, to tell the truth. That
bad leg of yours makes you all but worthless when it comes to doing any real
work.” He frowned as he approached. “You ain’t even much good at scraping up
shit and sweeping the floors.”

“I’m
doing the best I can.” Willie’s face heated. He lowered his gaze. Damn, but he
hated disappointing people.
Seems like he’d done a lot of
that over the years.
He’d never lived up to his mother’s expectations.
His father’s, either, although that seemed irrelevant now.
Most of all, he’d failed to live up to his
own
expectations.

At the
start, he hadn’t been too keen on working at the livery, but now that he’d been
given the job, he didn’t like letting Josiah down.
And what
about Hattie?
If he lost this job, Willie knew he’d lose any chance of
ever earning her respect or her friendship.

Sheriff
Bryant cleared his throat. “You know, Willie, I’m
needing
a little help over at the jail. Hank’s not too reliable, and he doesn’t like
hanging around the place in the evenings. Doesn’t think that’s a job a deputy
ought to do.”

For the
last year, Sheriff Bryant and Deputy Hank Goddard had been rivals for the
affections of Miss Molly Munro. Willie couldn’t keep up with who was currently
winning the battle. Miss Munro seemed to enjoy leading both on a merry chase.
The situation had definitely created problems in the working relationship
between the two men.

“What
are you suggesting?” His interest aroused, Willie squared his shoulders and
looked up again. “What sort of help do you need?”

“I’m
thinking we might need someone to keep an eye on the place at night.
Wouldn’t involve much, really.
Mostly you’d just need to be
there, check on the prisoners, and make sure the cells are locked up.”

The
jail in Sunset rarely held any actual criminals. Mostly Sheriff Bryant threw a
man behind bars only to teach him a lesson. Abe Hubbard ended up there every
time his wife showed up with bruises on her cheeks, and some of the cowpokes
from nearby ranches were guests at the jail when they came to town, got rowdy,
and created a ruckus of some sort. Of course, Willie had spent his share of
nights sleeping it off in a cell after his drunken sprees. Obviously, the
sheriff’s tactics didn’t work all that well. Nobody seemed to be learning much.

Willie
shook his head.
“Yeah, right.
I’m sure the folks of
Sunset would sleep better at night, knowing I was there guarding the jail.
Hell, Bryant, have you lost your mind? Nobody in this town has any trust in me.
You’d probably have the mayor and the entire town council coming down on you if
you hired me.”

Josiah
Beardsley let out a laugh. “He’s joking, Willie. Ain’t
nobody
who’d give you a responsibility like that. Not after what your old man did.
Folks figure you to be as untrustworthy as he was.”

“I’m
not joking.” Caleb Bryant pushed his hat back on his head and stared down at
both men. “I’m not hiring your father. He ran afoul of the law, but that’s got
nothing to do with whether or not I can trust you.”

Willie
choked back emotions. Working for the sheriff would be a damned sight easier
than scraping up horseshit.
A lot more respectable, too.

Something
stirred inside of him, made him think again of all the old dreams he’d had.
Maybe he could pick up a few law books, spend a little time reading and
studying during the long nights.

“When
would you want me to start?” He held his breath.

“Reckon
you need to work that out with Josiah, see when he’d be willing to let you go.”

His
boss stepped up, clapped an arm over Willie’s shoulder, and grinned. “Finish up
here, then
go
get some rest. If you’re going to be
staying awake all night, you’ll need to get some sleep today.”

“Yes,
sir.
But I
can’t sleep yet. I’ve got something I want to do first.”

As soon
as he finished work, he’d clean himself up,
then
make
a little jaunt over to see Hattie Mae. He could sleep later. He could dream
later.

* * *
*

Hattie
strolled along the porch, watering can in hand. With no patients to tend, she’d
taken on the responsibility of caring for Charlotte’s flower boxes. The
delicate, colorful geraniums added a bright touch to the porch. The blossoms
gave the hospital a look of home and helped to set patients at ease when they
came to see the doctor for treatments. The pink and purple buds always brought
a smile to Hattie’s face, as well.

Her
studies were progressing nicely, and Dr. Kellerman was quite pleased with her
work, even suggesting again that instead of training with him at the hospital,
perhaps she should consider attending one of the nursing colleges in the
country. There were nearly a dozen of them now. He offered to give her a good
recommendation.

But
Hattie could never afford the cost of nursing school. Besides, going off to
college would mean leaving Sunset. It would mean leaving Willie.

She
sighed as she poured water around a delicate pink bloom, watching as the soil
eagerly soaked up the moisture. Hattie had soaked up Willie’s attention every
bit as quickly, as though she were some wilted blossom craving attention. He
shouldn’t figure in her plans. But, of course, he did.

“You’re
deep in thought there, Miss Hattie Mae.”

Shocked
to hear Willie’s voice, she whirled around. How long had he been standing
there? How long had he been watching? She blushed, fearing that he might
somehow have the ability to read her mind and know that she’d been thinking
about him.
Mooning over him to be precise.

“I’m
considering a difficult decision,” she said by way of explanation. Hattie set
down the watering can, then realizing the time, she frowned. “Why aren’t you
working? You haven’t quit your job, have you?” She braced herself, wanting to
be prepared for the inevitable bad news that would surely follow. Her mind
raced. How could she help Willie if he refused to help himself?

He
shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose you could say I quit. Or you could also say Josiah
let me go. Either way would be right, I guess.”

She let
out a groan, caught between an inexplicable sadness and a sense of outrage.
“But, why, Willie?
Did something happen?” Clenching her
hands into tight fists, she fought to hold back all the words threatening to
spill out. Hattie wanted to shout at him, to scold him for whatever he’d done
wrong, and send him right back to Josiah Beardsley to beg for another chance.
Oh, how she wanted to lecture him on the virtues of responsibility. She had to find
some way to make him realize how important it was for him to take charge of his
life again.

Of
course, she could never speak those thoughts aloud, which made them all the
more painful to bear.

And why
was Willie standing there grinning at her like those braying jackasses at the
livery?

“I
quit,” he said, “because I got a better job. Josiah was willing to let me go so
that I could start that new job tonight.”

“A
new job?
You’re going to work…tonight?” She frowned, unable to think of a single job a
man might do at night that didn’t involve saloons, drinking, or worse. But,
then again,
she
spent many of her
nights working at the hospital, so there were respectable positions that
required odd hours.

“I’ll
be working for the sheriff now.” Willie’s grin broadened.

As
Hattie listened to his recounting of the morning’s events, she, too, broke into
a huge smile. She clapped her hands together, sharing his excitement. “You see,
I told you things would work out for you.”

“You
were right.” Hope shone in his eyes. “I’m making a few other changes, too. I
won’t be sleeping at the stables anymore.”

“Where
will you stay?”

“Sheriff
Bryant put in a good word for me with
Eben
Godwin’s
widow. She’s got a few rooms to rent. She’s going to let me have one at an
affordable rate.”

“Tansy
Godwin?”
Hattie laughed. “She’s a lovely lady, I’m sure, but a stickler for rules, or so
I’ve heard.” She bent forward, leaned over the porch railing and whispered, “I’d
advise you to be on your best behavior.”

“No
pranks?” he teased. “I’m to be a gentleman?”

“At
all times, yes.”
She spoke in a shrill, high-pitched voice, shaking a finger at him in playful
mockery of Helen
Brundage
, her former headmistress at
the female academy. “You must always watch your step.” Willie’s woebegone
expression made her laugh once more. “It won’t really be as awful as you make
it seem,” she assured him, her voice her own once more. “In fact, being a
gentleman has definite advantages.”

“Name
one.” Willie put his hands on the porch rail and gazed up at her.

A
giddiness
came
over Hattie. Was Willie flirting with her? She wished she had nerve enough to
flirt back, to suggest that gentlemen were allowed to call upon ladies, could
enter into a proper courtship, but she wouldn’t dare suggest such an outrageous
thing.

“Well…”
Surely there must be some little advantage she could present to him. Her mind
had somehow turned to mush. She couldn’t come up with a single thing to bolster
her case.

His
laugh broke the awkward silence.
“Never mind.
I’d
better get back now. If I plan to stay awake all night, I’ll need to get some
sleep.”

“Yes,
of course.”

“I just
thought you might want to hear the news, that’s all.”

“I’m
glad you dropped by. Thank you for telling me about the job.”

They
were acting like silly children, shuffling about, nervously twisting their
hands, speaking and looking away. Hattie knew she did that sort of thing—a
lot—but it tickled her to see Willie suddenly acting like an adolescent caught
in the throes of his first mash on a girl.

And was
she that girl?

The
thought took her breath.

“Before
I go…” Willie looked up, his mouth set in a most determined line.

“Yes,
was there something you wanted to ask?”

“I’ve
been thinking a bit, looking forward to having a little time off.”

“I do
the same,” Hattie admitted.

“It’s
been a long time since I’ve gone to the old creek. Do you like to fish,
Hattie?” The question rushed out on a breath. “I was wondering if you might
want to go along with me. I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he said, his expression
so somber and serious she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Is
that a promise?”

“Is
this an acceptance?”

“That’s
not fair, Willie. It’s not right to answer one question with another, but to
answer it, yes, I’ll accept your invitation, but only on the condition that you
do promise to be a gentleman.”

“I’ll
come by for you shortly past noon on Saturday.”

“All
right.
I’ll
be ready and waiting.”

He
tipped his hat and then he was gone.

Hattie
stood staring after him, her heart thumping so fast she felt light-headed and
dizzy. She’d never been fishing before and had no idea what would be expected
of her. What would she wear? How was she supposed to act? Didn’t fishermen
sometimes use worms for bait? Would she have to actually touch one of the
wriggly creatures?

“Oh,
dear.
What
have I gotten myself into now?”

Grabbing
the watering can, she rushed inside and headed toward Dr. Kellerman’s library.
Maybe she could find the answers in one of his many encyclopedias.

Chapter Six

Time flies
.

As
Willie climbed aboard the buggy he’d rented at Beardsley’s establishment, then
picked up the reins and set off down the main street of town, those words stuck
in his brain. While he was in the hospital, Hattie had used those words often,
attaching them to a dozen different sayings, all in hopes of bolstering his
flagging spirits.

Time
flies like an arrow, or time flies with the wind. Of course, more recently, she
now urged him on with reminders of how quickly time could fly by, chiding him
not to waste a single precious moment. The saying he liked best—and the one
most apt—was the truth that time always flew when one was having a good time.

In the
last few weeks, he’d been having a very good time in his life.
All because of Hattie, of course, because she’d cared enough to
give him a kick—literally—in the ribs and set him on the path toward
redemption.

Driving
through the town that Saturday morning carried him along on a journey of
self-discovery. He grimaced as he passed the mercantile and recalled being
struck by Jed’s freight wagon but smiled wistfully as he neared Dr. Kellerman’s
hospital and thought of how he’d awakened in the hospital later that day and
had first seen the sweet angel at his bedside.

Now,
Willie tipped his hat at Sheriff Bryant as he pulled up in front of the
lawman’s office. He’d traveled only a short distance that morning—from the
livery to the jail—but in other respects, he’d come a long, long way.

He
hadn’t touched a drop of liquor in weeks. He had a steady job and earned an
adequate wage. He was boarding at Tansy Godwin’s place, so he now had clean,
comfortable lodgings and decent meals on a regular basis.

Best of
all, he had Hattie Mae in his life.

“All
set for the trip to Denver?” Caleb Bryant approached with an easy smile.

“Yeah,
thanks for giving me a little time off.”

“Figured
you could use it.
Besides, you’ve earned it.”

“You
don’t need me back until Monday evening, am I right?”

“
You planning
to spend the weekend with your mother?”

“No,
I’ll be coming right back to Sunset.
Just had a few other
plans in mind.”
He chuckled.

“Plans
that might involve a pretty little nurse?”

“None
of your business, Sheriff.”
Willie tipped his cap. “Good day to you.”

“And
good luck to you.”

With a
wave, he set off on the road to Denver. Now that he had a place to stay, he
wanted to pick up a few belongings—namely a fishing rod and a reel his father
had given him. And what of the law books in his father’s study? Nobody was
using them now.

He
shook his head. He wasn’t ready.

Time flies
.

The
sweet memory of Hattie’s voice sang inside his heart. She’d tell him not to put
off until tomorrow what he could do today, probably remind him that time waited
on no man, and maybe throw in a quip about heaven’s help.

But
not yet.
His
dream of someday reading law remained buried deep inside in a place too painful
to go digging around.

Hours
later, he wiped the sweat from his forehead as he drove down Colfax Avenue,
enjoying the wide promenades and the lush greenery along the tree-lined street.
The summer sun blazed down from on high so that the road before him seemed to
almost glitter. The day itself seemed filled with endless possibilities.

Yet
despite his hopeful attitude, Willie couldn’t shake off a restless feeling. He
hadn’t been home in months, had never replied to the letter his mother sent
when he’d gotten hurt, and he didn’t know how to deal with the guilt eating
away inside of him.

When he reached the red brick house
where he’d been born and where he’d grown to manhood, his remorse deepened. He
had no cause for regret, he reminded himself. He hadn’t walked out on his
mother.
Quite the opposite.
She’d sent him away. She’d
nagged and scolded, she’d chastised and criticized, and finally, like so many
others, she’d given up on him.

He could not come back unless he got
sober.

Letitia Morse had said a few other
things, as well, but Willie didn’t want to remember the accusations of how he’d
dishonored his father, how he’d sullied the family’s name and reputation. He
bore no responsibility for his mother’s downfall. That had been his father’s
doing. Deny it though she may, his mother’s love could not erase the hideous
truth. Her husband, the esteemed judge, had chosen to put himself above the
law. He’d made a mockery of justice and a travesty of honor.

Good riddance to him.

Clouds rolled across the sky,
momentarily obscuring the sun. Willie shook off the sudden gloom and brought
the wagon to a halt. Gulping back nervous energy, he climbed down but quickly
turned away from the brick-paved walkway. Weeds were springing up in the
cracks, he noticed. His mother no longer had hired help to tend the property.
She’d let Bridget, their
domestic,
go too, even before
she’d sent Willie away.

Guilt ate at him again. A dutiful son
would have swallowed his pride, if not for his own sorry sake, certainly for
that of his distraught mother. She needed help and he knew it, but he hadn’t
bothered to come home sooner.

Not yet ready to face her or hear her
sharp tongue, Willie strolled toward the back of the house. Indeed, as he’d
feared, the garden was a sorry sight. Last year’s perennials struggled through
a morass of weeds and brambles, and the rose bushes his mother so prized were
sadly overgrown. A depressing melancholy clung to everything.

In the far corner of the garden stood
an old sundial.
As a boy, Willie had never figured out
how to tell time with it—other than a rough estimate—but one could just as
easily guess the time by looking at the sun itself. It hardly seemed necessary
to have the ornate marble pedestal taking up space in the garden. Smiling as he
approached the sundial now, Willie recalled the Latin inscription.

Tempus
fugit.

Yes, indeed. Time flies.

He ran a callused finger around the
edge, thinking of Hattie as he traced the letters.

Behind him, a door creaked open.

“William, is it really you?”

He bit his lip,
then
turned to face his mother. He nodded.

“Thank God you’ve come home.” She
climbed down the steps, holding tightly to the railing. “I’m sorry about the
awful row we had.” As she came toward him, Willie’s eyes widened. Her
usually-perfect coiffure looked disarrayed. Her clothing was wrinkled and
stained. She must have caught his gaze, for she glanced downward,
then
brushed at her skirts. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at
taking care of myself. Without Bridget doing the washing—”

“It’s all right, Mother. Don’t
apologize.” He leaned forward and pecked her cheek. “You’re always beautiful.”

She drew away. “A kind thing to say,
but it’s untrue, and you shouldn’t be telling lies, not even to make your
mother feel better.” Stepping backward, the woman moved toward a wooden bench.
Once so brilliantly white it gleamed in the morning sunlight, it had now faded
to an ugly state of dull gray, peeling paint. “It’s all such a mess. I can’t
keep up with any of it.” She lifted a languid hand and drew it across the
landscape. “The flower garden has more weeds than blooms, my kitchen garden
barely produces enough vegetables for a decent meal, and if it weren’t for the
jars of food Bridget put up last year, I’d have starved to death by now.” She
sank down onto the bench.

An odd choking sensation swept over Willie.
For a moment, he couldn’t find his breath. Finally, he wet his lips, shrugged,
and did his best to make light of the situation.

“Come now, Mother, it can’t really be
all that bad.”

“It’s worse, but never
mind
. It will be all right now.” She clasped his arm. “I’m
so glad you’ve come home. I’ve been so worried about you. When I heard about
the accident, I thought I might lose you, too.”

“You didn’t come to see me.”

“You didn’t ask me to.”

He stared at her hand on his arm. It
symbolized her forgiveness, didn’t it? It was her way of reaching out to him,
offering him a chance to put aside the anger and misunderstandings of the past.
His mother was welcoming him into her life once more.

Surprised by a sudden surge of anger
building inside his chest, Willie shook his head. He drew away from his
mother’s touch.

“You wouldn’t have come to see me if I
had asked. You don’t care what happens to me.”

“I do care.
Very
much.
I want you home again.”

“The only reason you want me here is
because you can’t look after yourself.” He leveled a steady gaze at her. Seeing
the hurt and confusion in her weary eyes disturbed him, but he didn’t turn
away. “I’ve had struggles, too. I’ve been through hell, and I barely survived.”
He gestured toward his leg. “Maybe you haven’t noticed how hard it is for me to
walk. You must not have noticed how long it took for me to limp across the
yard.”

She pursed her lips. “Did the driver
pay for your injuries? He struck
you,
he should be
required to make a settlement. If your father were here—”

“It wasn’t the driver’s fault. It was
mine. I stepped in front of the wagon. I was hoping to put an end to my
misery.” He sank down onto the bench beside his mother. “But never mind that.
I’m alive, I’m well enough to make my way in life, and I will do what I can to
help you. I won’t come home, though. I have a place in Sunset. I have a job.”

“What sort of job? Doing what?” Her
brows rose.

Willie turned away. Was he ashamed to
admit the sort of menial work he performed? “I’m working at the jail, Mother.
I’m helping the sheriff out. I keep an eye on the place at night. Sometimes
during the day I do a few chores or run errands.”

Beside him, his mother’s disdainful
sniff was all too clear. “You’re better than that, William. What about your law
career? You know how much it meant to your father—”

“Don’t talk to me about my father.” He
cut her words off with a vehement protest. “Thanks to him, I’ve lost everything
I ever hoped to have in my life. I can’t pursue a career in law, Mother. No
lawyer in this state will give me an apprenticeship. I don’t have sufficient
funds to attend one of those new legal colleges, and even if I did, it wouldn’t
matter. My father, the esteemed Judge William Howard Morse,” he said with a
sneer, “committed a crime. He abused the privileges of his office. He conspired
to commit fraud.”

“That shouldn’t matter.”

“No, it shouldn’t. But it does. His
acts will be held against me, and no one will ever give me a chance. It’s
unfair. It’s unjust, but that’s the problem, isn’t it? Injustice runs rampant
in the land, thanks to crooked politicians and corrupt officials like my own
father.”

His mother, obviously tired of arguing,
pulled her arm away. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but
your father would be proud of you.”

“You’re right. I don’t want to hear
anything about him.”

She leaned forward. “William, listen to
me, please. I know you’re angry. I know you’re hurt. But there are things you
don’t understand.”

“I doubt that. I think I have a very
good understanding of the situation. My father got greedy. That’s what it was
all about.”

His mother shook his head. “No, that’s
not what it’s about.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Your father is a sick man. He
didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want me to know for a long time.”

“Sick?” Willie’s heart lurched. Despite
his father’s faults, a bond still existed between them, one that carried with
it too many emotions to name. “What kind of sickness?”

“The worst kind.
He won’t live long. I know what he did was wrong, but he did it for us, don’t
you see? He wanted to be sure we would be provided for after…” She broke into
sobs, unable to finish the thought.

But Willie was having none of it.

“Noble intentions don’t justify
wrong-doing, Mother.”

“No, I don’t suppose they do.” She let
out a shaky breath. “But perhaps they lead to forgiveness.”

“No. I can’t forgive him. I won’t.”

Her spine stiffened. She clenched her
hands in her lap. “We’ll discuss it later.” Slowly, she rose. “For now, let me
help you get settled. I can’t do much, but—”

Willie quickly got to his feet. He
placed a hand on her shoulder. “I told you, Mother, I’m not staying.”

The confusion in her eyes grew. “Of
course you’re staying. I’ve made my apologies to you, and as you can clearly
see, I’m in need of your help. I can’t hire anyone to do the gardening, tend to
the domestic chores, or deal with any of the other problems.”