Mountain Junction

** Chapter 9 **

Something to Chew On

 

At the parsonage, Clyde was attacking the soil of his garden with his hoe.  Clods were flying around his feet at such speed and distance that Stanton was in fear of his jug of lemonade.  The new preacher said nothing.  The only sound came from his grunts as he struck at the earth, increasing the force with each blow.  Stanton watched in silence for a few minutes with a mixture of fear and amusement.  There is no way he can keep up this pace, Stanton thought to himself; he will end up pushing up his own daisies.  Clyde was so focused on his own thoughts, that he never noticed Stanton’s growing concern.  Silently, Stanton was fairly sure that it was the young widow Clyde was thinking about.  The attack on the ground was his attempt to remove the thoughts like the weeds at his feet.  Stanton finally sermonized, “Scripture says to till the earth Clyde, not kill it.”

 

“I’m just making sure that the seed falls into good soil,” Clyde said as he stopped his assault and leaned on the hoe.  He was already slightly winded from his labors.  He pulled out his bandana and slowly wiped his brow, exhaling in a puff.  Pausing in his work, however, allowed his thoughts to again wander.  The sight of Julie and André so comfortable together had bothered him he had to admit.  And her distraction when she first appeared that morning had disappointed him.  But, I am not going to admit that to Stanton, he thought to himself.  Instead of saying more, he moved down a bit, and began to hoe another area of the garden.

 

The thuds soon regained their speed and intensity.  Stanton watched the continued attack in silence.  The more he watched Clyde, the more he was sure it was the widow, and not Jermond who was on his mind.  He began running different ways to approach the subject in his head.  He did not know the young man well enough to simply be direct.  He also did not know him well enough to know if a more subtle approach would work.  He decided not to say anything for the time being, and continued watching, sipping his lemonade.

 

Clyde had worked himself into a sweat fifteen minutes later, stopping his hoeing and throwing his coat over the fence rail, and rolling up his sleeves.  His thoughts immediately drifted back to a mass of unruly black curls, framing a pair of luminous green eyes, and the feeling of her fingers brushing against his as he handed her hat up to her.  The blush on her face had matched his own racing thoughts when their fingers had briefly touched.  Clyde had felt it, and had seen that she had too.  He knew she had turned to Jermond in an attempt to hide that fact from him.  The thought of her reaction matching his own brought his desire to the forefront again, and the thuds on the earth began once again, each new thud seemingly louder than the first.

 

Stanton watched the continued attack, secretly thinking to himself that Clyde, while thinking himself a worldly man, was somewhat blind about how to improve his own personal romantic situation.  Finally, he decided to leave the young man alone for a few minutes to work his self into such a state of fatigue that he would be more apt to listen to suggestions.  "All this work in the hot sun in the middle of the afternoon!" he finally said, as he shook his head.  “We are going to need more lemonade.”  He disappeared into the parsonage, leaving the young preacher alone with his thoughts.

 

Clyde continued hoeing and stopped again when his arms began to ache.  Stanton came out of the house with the pitcher refilled and poured them each a glass.  Handing the glass to Clyde, he decided to try the man-to-man approach, hoping that since they were alone, he would not be offended.  Clyde took the glass and emptied it in quick gulps.  Stanton refilled the glass, and handed it back.  He let Clyde take another gulp, and finally spoke.

 

“She has caught many men’s eyes you know,” Stanton said slyly, “and none managed to get her attention.  He might not do any better.”

 

Clyde stopped mid gulp, and looked at Stanton.  Putting the glass down on the fence post, he picked up his hoe and resumed his work.  Stanton noticed, however, that it was a slower pace.  Deciding that the young man was ready to listen, he pressed on.  "I saw how you are with her, last night and a moment ago.  No one has her heart yet, Clyde.”

 

Clyde said nothing.  He continued hoeing, and listening.  There was truth to what Stanton said.  He had not imagined her reaction to him, either while dancing or earlier that afternoon.

 

The change in him was not lost on Stanton, and he pressed on.  He addressed the other major problem with Julie that had often caused people to be put off.  “To bad she dresses like a man.”

 

“Not all the time,” Clyde quickly replied.  “She seems to dress quite nicely, when she’s at the Inn.”  He immediately caught his mistake, as he watched the older man smile.  He went back to hoeing.  His brow furrowed a bit as he thought of her in her buckskins.  He had preferred the beauty in the ball gown, or the motherly woman in the Inn.  There was something about the buckskins that was a bit ... unseemly. 

 

“Actually, she is quite womanly,” Stanton explained.  “She just hides it well under the buckskins.  I have never met a kinder woman.  You should see her taking care of a room full of sick townspeople when an epidemic hits.  The last time we had one, she never rested for almost a week.”  The relief on Clyde's face was not lost on the astute preacher.  And he continued making her case.  “She's quick witted as well.  A fact that Jermond might find a bit ... unsettling.”  The sly fox continued, “He likes to be the one who keeps everyone guessing.”

 

Clyde couldn't stop a slight grin.  “Well, she put him in his place quick enough.”  The hoe never lost its scrape scrape rhythm on the ground.

 

Yes, and she put you in yours too, it appears, Stanton thought to himself as he sipped his lemonade.  “You’re not going to give up, after one morning, are you?  He asked pointedly.  “Especially after the rather juvenile stunt he pulled.”

 

“I’m not giving up,” Clyde said as he stopped hoeing.  “I never started, and as for Jermond’s juvenile stu—" 

 

The sound of a buggy distracted Clyde, and seemed to animate Stanton.  Clyde saw the old preacher get up and walk stiffly toward the fence with a smile on his face.  The simple green buggy pulled along side him, and Clyde recognized the widow that had danced with Stanton the night before.  The Widow Grimsbe and her sister Mackenzie smiled and waved at both men, although Evelyn Grimsbe’s smile quickly faded as soon as she looked at Stanton.

 

“What brings you out to the Parsonage this morning, ladies?” Asked Stanton, eyeing the wicker basket that lay between the two.

 

“Why, Reverend Clyde, of course,” answered Grimsbe, “we were at the Inn this morning, and decided to come calling, and see how he was faring today.”

 

Stanton silently thanked God for answering his prayer so quickly.  He could overlook the cool reception from Evelyn; he had all but forgotten her after he began to help Clyde the night before.  He also knew that some well-chosen words about her cooking would inevitably bring about her forgiveness.  Evelyn’s temper was short, but also short lived.  Once placated, she would once again return to the fun loving, brash woman he found so appealing.

 

Clyde sighed against the hoe, and again pulled out the bandana from his pocket to wipe his face.  He knew that there would be no more hoeing this afternoon, and that there would be no peace for him, unless he invited the two ladies into his parlor for lunch.  Laying the hoe aside, he walked to the fence and invited the ladies to join him and Stanton in the parlor.

 

Mackenzie, however, had other ideas.  Standing up in the carriage, she tossed her head back and put her hands on her hips.  “Hells Bells, Reverend, it’s too nice a day to eat indoors!”  She thrust her hand out to be helped down.  “And those church bells have finally stopped their infernal ringing, so even God would eat outside now!”

 

Clyde, while taken aback, could not help but chuckle at the truth of what she said.  He took her hand to help her down.  “I agree Mrs. —”  Suddenly realizing he could not remember her last name, he looked to Stanton.

 

“Oh, I ain’t no Mrs., I’m just Mackenzie, Rev!”  The small brown haired woman laughed as she stepped down and passed Clyde.  She turned her head back to him, and smiled.  “And most call me Mac.”

 

“Well, Mac, you’re right about the day,” Clyde said with a grin.  “And about those bells.  Would you help me set the table?”

 

“Well we can chalk the bells up to youth, Clyde.”  Stanton laughed as he moved to help Evelyn down.  “The bell ringer these days is Benjamin Carmack.  A youngster who takes his job very seriously.”  Evelyn ignored the hand and blew past him without a glance.

 

Stanton simply grinned behind her.  “After all, he has to do it better then his four brothers ever did.  I think he wants to make sure that the bells are heard in Randsburg.”

 

“That Carmack boy rings those bells like Quasi Modo!!” Mac laughed, “he pulls himself off the floor with every ring!”

 

Stanton watched Mackenzie with a smile.  The two sisters were so alike they could have been twins.  Their temperaments, however, were as different as could be. Mackenzie was the bigger flirt, and always had been.  Her brown eyes always seemed to be hiding something, some secret that only she knew.  It was infectious, and everyone who met her seemed to want to try and find out what the secret was.  They would have been surprised to learn that her secret was a zest for living that was never quite satisfied, no matter how many new things she tried, or how many new places she saw.  It was this quest for more that made her so likable.  Evelyn, on the other hand, was not a flirt; she was just plain bold.  She had been from the day he met her.  He smiled as he remembered how she had ruled over her husband with an iron fist.  Her husband had not minded her endless stream of demands, however; he had adored her.  His smiles and answering barbs were the perfect foil for her demanding nature.  While most men would have been stymied and unhappy with such a wife, Justin had been able to hold his own, and loved every minute of it.  As a result, they had enjoyed one of the best marriages in town.  Stanton had liked Evelyn and Mac from the beginning, despite their one fatal flaw:  both had raised gossip to an art form.

 

As the quartet set about the business of getting the lunch on the outside table, it did not take long for the ladies to start talking about the social.  Their gossiping amused Clyde; it was like a dance, with each lady knowing where to stop and let the other one take over the story.  It was as if each had taken care to notice what the other had missed.  They seemed to have missed nothing.  The two men attempted to add to the conversation, but the only things they managed to remember were the colors of the ladies dresses, or when someone had arrived or left the social.  Each time they mentioned these things, however, the sisters looked at each other with indulgent smirks.  Clyde could have added an account of his knowing what André said in French, but something told him to keep that to himself.

 

By the time they sat down to eat, Clyde had an almost complete picture of what had happened the evening before.  What amazed him was the fact that he had been at the same social, and could not remember one quarter of what had happened that evening.  He looked at Stanton.  Stanton simply shrugged his shoulders; he was used to it.

 

Clyde had to admit, as he spooned potato salad in a heap on his plate, that he was famished.  The spread the ladies had brought to the parsonage was a spectacle.  There were plates of fresh beef, salads, vegetables and cakes for dessert.  The smells from the table were marvelous, and all four spent quite a few minutes in silence, enjoying the meal.  For a while, the gossip stopped.  Clyde welcomed the silence; the endless chatter had started to make his headache.  Stanton, ulterior motive in mind, deliberately broke the spell.

 

“So, what have you ladies been dong this morning?”

 

Evelyn Grimsbe was the chairwoman of the Mountain Junction Ladies Temperance Society.  With two saloons, the Mansion, a dance hall and gambling in town, she had her work cut out for her.  Evelyn, however, was not at all interested in temperance; she used the Society as an excuse to find out what she and Mac wanted to know.  Evelyn and Mackenzie dropped their forks on their plates almost simultaneously.  Their faces lit up as they launched into the discussions among the Society at the restaurant that morning.  Clyde stopped eating mid bite and gave Stanton a sideways glance as if to ask, “Why did you start them off again?”

 

As Stanton expected, the main topic of conversation had been Julie, not temperance.  He glanced back to Clyde after a few minutes, who now realized that this was why the older man had braved another round of gossip.  After a few more minutes of the ladies’ chatter, Stanton noticed the silence from Clyde and decided to change the subject.  Evelyn noticed it as well, and with a smile, saw her opportunity to find out just what the new Reverend thought of Mrs. Belsom.

 

“So Reverend, you seemed to enjoy dancing last night.  At least until you were cut in on.”

 

Clyde did not take the bait.  “I enjoyed dancing with everyone, Mrs. Grimsbe.”

 

Grimsbe was unimpressed; years of gleaning information had made her used to pulling the truth out of people, even stubborn preachers.  She simply reworded her question.  “I saw how much Ms. Belsom enjoyed the dance with you, what on earth did you talk about that made her smile so much for so long?"

 

All eyes turned toward Clyde, who simply wiped his mouth with his napkin.  Clyde was as good at deflecting as the widow was at lobbing.  His thoughts ran down a list of subjects he could use to stop the nosy woman in her tracks.  Suddenly, inspiration hit him.  “History, Madame.  I have always loved history, and she was telling me about the historical background of the town.”  Stanton took a bite of his beef, trying desperately not to laugh.  He had not seen many people stop Evelyn Grimsbe when she was on a mission for a juicy tidbit.

 

Mackenzie too, was surprised that her sister was not getting what she wanted from Clyde, and attempted to help.  “History?  Surely you talked about more than just the history of our silly little town.  Except for the occasional drunk that falls in front of the train, there ain’t no history here!” she exclaimed.

 

Mackenzie had unwittingly given Clyde the opportunity he needed to close the discussion of his dancing with Julie.  “Why that’s not true Mac.  You are sitting within riding distance of the Mountain Junction Loop!  It’s an engineering marvel known all over the country.  I was amazed at how knowledgeable Mrs. Belsom was in engineering.”  Silently, Clyde prayed that Julie knew about the loop, if these two ever asked her.  He made a mental note to ask Stanton about that as soon as they were alone.

 

Stanton almost choked on his beef, but fought the urge to cough.  He simply sent up a silent prayer to thank the Almighty.  Julie had been one of the few Mountain Junction residents who had taken advantage of the Railroad’s invitation to ride the train on its maiden voyage along the loop to the town of Arvin on the other side of the mountains.  When so many townspeople had been disinterested, Evelyn and Mac had not bothered to go.

 

Evelyn and Mac exchanged wide-eyed glances.  They knew Julie had been on the train, and that she knew quite a bit about the loop — a fact that had bored the ladies who called when they wanted her to give them information.  All Julie had talked about was the fact that the train crossed over itself, and how marvelous it was to watch the cars cross underneath the dining car she had been sitting in.  Had anyone else discussed trains while dancing, Evelyn would never have believed it. Julie, however, was a different story.

 

Trying a new line of questioning, Evelyn looked at the Preacher with sly eyes. “Well, I noticed that you didn’t leave all that quickly this morning.”

 

Clyde smiled to himself.  He had been through this type of interrogation before.  There were Mrs. Grimsbe’s in every parish, although admittedly, they seemed to pale in comparison to the tall, brown eyed women sitting before him. “"I enjoyed meeting many of the people last night.  And everyone left so fast towards the end that I just wanted to make sure that someone was there to help Julie put the Inn back to rights.”

 

Clyde's slip calling her Julie did not escape either Stanton or Evelyn.  Stanton bit down on his fork to stifle a laugh.  Evelyn would have had him exactly where she wanted him, had Mac not interjected.

 

“Hells Bells, Reverend Clyde!” she laughed, tossing her head.  “How much help does one woman need?  That Frenchman was hovering around her all evening!”

 

“Now Mackenzie,” scolded Evelyn, kicking Mac under the table and shooting a look a Clyde.  “He did manage to dance with a few other ladies as well.”

 

“Yes, sister, just like Justin used to do with you,” Mackenzie shot back.  “He danced with enough other girls to keep you interested in him.”

 

“Well, I caught Justin on that one, and made him pay for it,” laughed Evelyn.  “When the wheel on his buggy fell off the next day, he had to walk back to town to get someone to help him.”  She smiled slyly.  “It seems, Reverend, that the tools to fix it himself had vanished into thin air.”

 

All of the diners had to laugh; they had all done things like this when they were younger.  The comment by Mackenzie began a litany of stories concerning the silly things they had done in their youth to capture the attention of the opposite sex.

 

Stanton joined in the fun.  “I remember once, being so smitten with a redhead in school that I could barely speak a complete sentence when she was near.  She of course, liked another boy; one that came from a wealthier family who had just moved into town.”  Stanton took a drink of lemonade, and continued.  “She had one fatal flaw, however:  that girl could not be on time to save her life!  She was supposed to meet this boy at a barn dance, and as usual was late.  When he showed up at the dance, and was looking for her, I casually walked up to him, and told him that she was sick, and would not be at the dance.  He left in a huff, angry that she had not let him know she was sick.”  Stanton paused for greater effect.  “I spent a most pleasant evening dancing with her, and managed to talk up a storm as I walked her home.”

 

Clyde had to laugh at Stanton’s story, he had done the same thing on occasion.  “I once liked a woman from one of my early parishes,” he said.  “I was fresh out of seminary, and I fell for a woman with gray eyes.  Whenever she looked at me, I swear she could see far more then a rather inexperienced new preacher."  He sighed.  “Anyway, there was a blacksmith in the town that liked her as well, but,” he said with a grin, “he liked his horse more.”

 

He took another bite of potato salad before continuing with his story.  “On the day of the Christmas Eve dance, his horse mysteriously disappeared from its stable.  That evening, the horse still had not turned up, and he was much too upset to go to the dance, no matter how alluring the woman was waiting for him.  Imagine how happy he was Christmas morning, when the horse was tied to his front porch!”

 

“But Reverend, didn’t the woman understand?” Mackenzie said quietly.  “I mean, he had lost his horse.” 

 

"Oh, she understood alright," Clyde said with a grin. "She understood that I was there, and he wasn't.”

 

The stories continued on this way for quite some time.  Evelyn and Mackenzie exchanged quick, sideways glances, knowing that the society would love hearing about the escapades of the new preacher.  Clyde listened to each story with a smile, as a plan began to form in his head.  No one at the table knew it, but Clyde had only told one of the many pranks he had pulled in his younger days.  The stolen horse was only the tip of the iceberg.  But his planning stopped as Stanton innocently remarked on the lunch.

 

“Evelyn, what did you do to your potatoes?  They are not your normal recipe, are they?’

 

Evelyn Grimsbe went pink.  She was caught.  Mackenzie, however, was more then happy to enlighten Stanton on her sister’s deception.  The story of Julie and André’s exchange at the Inn was quickly recounted, with suitable embellishments added for effect.

 

“He went riding right by her, the poor thing,” Mac said.  “There she was, lookin’ pretty as a picture with her hair done up, in a new dress and holding this lunch in her hands.  She smiled at him, expecting him to get down and eat it with her, and he just looked at her and went riding off on that demon he calls a horse.  What’s that monster’s name again, sister?”

 

“Seeyasmay, or something like that,” Evelyn said.  “It probably means ‘mean as hell.’  I have never seen a more disagreeable animal.”  Evelyn suddenly realized she could make up some of the ground she had lost.  “Of course, that goes double for his owner,” she quickly added.

 

Mackenzie again thwarted Evelyn’s plan.  “Oh, he’s not that bad sister, he did look extremely handsome last night. I would have danced with him too.”  She was rewarded with another sharp kick to the shins.  Ignoring it, Mac continued with her story.  “Anyway, Julie asked us if we would like to picnic this afternoon, handed us the basket, and hightailed it back into the Inn.  Poor little thing.”

 

Stanton was about to begin a subtle ribbing of Evelyn, when he caught the look on Clyde’s face.  Mac caught the look as well, and seeing an opportunity to best Evelyn, got right to the point. 

 

“Well Rev, at least you got his meal.”

 

Clyde said nothing.  He simply grabbed another slice of beef and more potato salad with a smile.

 

 

 

Chapter 1 ... André
Chapter 2 ... Julie
Chapter 3 ... Clyde
Chapter 4 ... The Welcoming Party
Chapter 5 ... Sunrise
Chapter 6 ... Tabletop
Chapter 7 ... The Race
Chapter 8 ... Missed Lunch
*Chapter 9 ... Something To Chew On
Chapter 10 .. Back to Business
Chapter 11 .. House Work
Chapter 12 .. Idyllicus Interruptus
Chapter 13 .. House Repair
Chapter 14 .. Day’s End
Chapter 15 .. TBA
Chapter 16 .. TBA
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