8. A Lawyer Brings News
CHAPTER 8
A LAWYER brINGS NEWS
M eanwhile, at the Galena Stable
Having completed hitching up four horses to a traveling coach parked behind the stable, John nodded to the driver. With a crack of a whip, the beasts surged into motion, and he returned to the dimly lit stable to resume his other duties.
The passing of Mr. Perkins the night before hadn’t been a surprise. The news had reached him from the town’s coroner, an elderly gentleman who had paid a visit to the stable shortly after John had returned from delivering Ella Mae Montgomery to her home. He had thanked the man for his information and went about completing his chores, his mind numb as he mucked a stall and refilled the huge water tank at the back of the stable.
The numbness wore off after a time, though, and John had spent a restless night wondering about his future. Despite assurances he would have a position no matter what happened to Mr. Perkins, he couldn’t help the sense of despair he felt at learning of the man’s death.
What had been a surprise that morning was the visit from the man’s lawyer. The dapper gentleman had appeared at the stable at precisely eight o’clock, a satchel clutched in one hand and a sheaf of papers in the other.
John had stiffened upon seeing Thomas Whitcomb, Esquire, sure he was there to relieve him of his duties. Probably give him his final pay and send him on his way, wherever that was to be.
Despite knowing Mr. Perkins’ condition, John hadn’t spent enough time considering options for his future. The work at the stable took so much of this time. When he wasn’t concentrating on horses and equipage, he was thinking of Ella Mae Montgomery. Silently cursing his lot in life, he had been entirely unprepared for what the lawyer said.
“Mr. John O’Connor?”
“I am, sir.” He had wiped his hands on a linen and was about to hold out his right hand when he realized the lawyer’s hands were full. “What can I do for you?”
“It’s what I’m here to do for you , young man. If you’ll sign these papers, you’ll find you’re the new owner of Galena Stable, horses and all,” Mr. Whitcomb announced. “Do you… do you have an office where we can talk, perhaps?” he asked, glancing about.
“Of a sort,” John replied, staring at the lawyer in disbelief. “Uh… this way,” he said, leading them to a room filled with tack, saddles, brushes, and a counter where he took payment for services rendered.
“From your reaction, I take it Mr. Perkins didn’t warn you he had included you in his last will and testament?” Mr. Whitcomb asked. He set the papers on the counter.
John shook his head. “He did not.” After the shock had worn off some, he dipped his head. “Which has me wondering if I’m inheriting some debts to go along with the business?” he guessed, wincing at hearing how ungrateful he sounded.
“No debts, other than what you might incur from here on out,” Mr. Whitcomb assured him. “Apparently you’re already familiar with the vendors? Your sources for hay and such?”
“I am, sir,” John acknowledged.
The lawyer pulled out a quill pen and nodded to the ink pot sitting at one end of the counter. “I just need your signature here… and here,” he said, pointing to several lines on a paper filled with perfectly printed words. “Here’s your copy of the deed for the property… and your copy of the transfer of ownership,” Mr. Whitcomb said, handing over several pages once John had finished signing his name and the ink had dried.
John stared in awe as he was given the documentation proving he was the new owner of Galena Stable. “All the carriages, too?” he asked in a whisper.
Mr. Whitcomb chucked. “All of it, Mr. O’Connor. Should you ever need my services, here’s my card.”
John thanked the lawyer and shook his hand. Grinned when Mr. Whitcomb congratulated him. Frowned when he realized he was responsible for not only the horses he now owned, but also for the building in which they resided along with all manner of equipage in various states of repair—and disrepair.
“I’m a business owner,” he murmured, once the lawyer had taken his leave of the stable.
There hadn’t been time to celebrate. There hadn’t even been time for a drink at the nearby saloon. There had been horses to hitch and stalls to muck, and water troughs and grain buckets to refill. He didn’t even want to announce his new status to the world let alone the citizens of Galena. There was only one person he wanted to tell, and he wasn’t even sure how she would react.
Would Ella Mae Montgomery care that he was now the proprietor of Galena Stable?
Well, there was only one way to find out.
The masquerade ball was the next evening. He could probably afford a few pieces of clothing—a black shirt, black trousers, and a black mantle—items he could wear for other occasions beside the ball. He already owned a pair of boots, although they had seen better days. A short top hat would serve him well, too.
When business slowed later in the afternoon, he took what he needed from the till and headed down Main Street to a men’s clothing store.
An hour later, he emerged with a paper-wrapped bundle of clothing, a black bandana, and a new hat.
He could hardly wait for Ella Mae to see him at the ball.