Chapter 7 #2
“This is Robert Hayes, the sheriff here, and his lovely wife, Lucy,” Thomas said, indicating a very short woman.
If she scraped by at five feet, it was a miracle.
But she was spry, with a glint in her eyes.
Her smile reminded Clary of Evelyn, and that brought a pang of guilt to Clary’s heart.
She hadn’t gone to see her sister for fear of ruining Mildred’s work.
She would have to go to the house and at least inquire after her. Maybe when they got back.
They got themselves settled into the coach and then set off for San Antonio.
It was a long drive, and Clary was hoping to get some answers from Thomas. He was still worried and looking nervous.
When they were well underway, Clary turned to him. “So, where is your family? Are they close? Because if they are, we could always just ride on out there and see if they’re all right.”
Thomas frowned at her. “What? Oh, they’re two days from Unity, and I don’t think I can stay away from work that long. The telegram will have to do. For now.”
“Okay, but I’m just saying, if we can ride there, then maybe that would be the smarter move,” Clary said. “If it was Evelyn?—”
“I know, but … my sister-in-law Tilda isn’t overly fond of me,” Thomas said, looking upset. “She told me never to darken her door again.”
“Why?” Clary asked, aghast. She couldn’t imagine Thomas ever doing anything that would make her never want to see him again. He was such a kind and loving person.
“It’s dumb,” Thomas confessed, looking dejected.
“So? You know all about my embarrassing family,” Clary said with a chuckle. “It’s not like I have a leg to stand on to judge you with. My sister is a wreck, and she’s probably livid with me for not rescuing her from Mildred.”
Thomas nodded. “Fine … It’s really very silly.”
“So? Tell me,” Clary urged him.
Reluctantly, Thomas said, “I might have suggested that my nephew, Tilda’s eldest son Kent, might want to go to university and study engineering.”
Clary was lost. “And that’s bad?”
“It is for Tilda and my brother, apparently. Tilda comes from a long line of farmers. My brother is a farmer too. They wanted Kent to take over the farm, but Lyle is much better suited to it. He has a love for the farm. Kent’s mind turns with wheels and cogs and ideas.
He’d be better building the things of the future.
Anyway, they got upset with me for putting ideas into Kent’s head. As though they weren’t already there.”
“And they don’t want to see you because of that?” Clary asked.
“I might have gotten Kent some books on engineering for Christmas,” Thomas admitted.
“They’re very basic, but he loves them. Luke isn’t that upset.
He figures that having Lyle take over the farm one day is fine.
But Tilda seems determined that both of her sons will farm and her daughter will marry a farmer.
She’s quite pig-headed. And I might have told her that at our last meeting.
” Thomas admitted this while staring at his fingers.
Now Clary understood. He had overstepped and then insulted his sister-in-law. But it seemed that his brother was still talking to him.
“I understand. Family is complicated,” Clary said.
“So very complicated,” Thomas agreed. “I thought I was helping. With the books, not by calling Tilda names.”
“Yes, I know,” Clary said, thinking about how she had thought she was helping when she kept saving her sister.
“We seem to be two fools with good intentions.” She reached over and took one of his hands in hers.
Giving it a loving squeeze, she smiled at him.
“At least now we have each other, and we both understand how it feels to be the one who can see what needs to be done even when others can’t. ”
Thomas smiled at her, and for a moment, his veil of worry lifted, and the happy Thomas she knew shone through. It warmed her heart to see him like that. Clary was determined to help him, no matter what the outcome of this journey to San Antonio entailed.
“How did you get away from the smelter?” she asked, deciding to change the subject and maybe keep Thomas from his brooding mood.
“It was surprisingly easy. I asked Ethan, told him the story, and he said it was fine,” Thomas said with a frown.
“It was that simple?” she asked. “I thought you would have had to beg or something.”
“Nope, no begging required,” he said. “I think Ethan agreed mostly because it will drive Mr. Rossi insane. That man is upsetting folks left, right, and center with his clipboard and his checklists and his quotas.”
Clary turned her attention back to the road. “Well, let’s just hope that the bandits don’t get any ideas. I don’t think Ethan would be as keen to let you out if they keep firing at you.”
Thomas shrugged but didn’t say anything. He just kept looking at the road ahead.
A couple of hours later they were almost at San Antonio without incident. It troubled Clary, but when she mentioned her concerns to Thomas, he didn’t seem worried.
“They disappear often,” he said. “Sometimes they don’t attack us for months on end, and then they suddenly show up again. They’re probably lying low after the shooting. We wounded and killed a few of them. They’re probably rethinking their approach.”
Clary nodded. However, she was a little distracted herself. There was a plume of gray smoke rising in the air ahead of them. The closer they got to San Antonio, the more pronounced the plume became, and soon, the smell of burning things filled the air.
“What do you suppose is happening?” Clary asked. “This couldn’t be your bandits, could it?”
They were slowly entering San Antonio. Thomas’s eyes were wide as he beheld the scene. “No, I don’t think they could do something like this here. They have no reason to attack San Antonio that I know of.”
There was chaos in the streets. A long line of folks led from the river to the spot where the burning hulk of a building stood.
No, Clary was wrong in assuming it was one building.
As she slowly steered the coach around the folks fighting the fire, it became clear that it was two buildings engulfed in flames.
The heat was terrible. Flames leaped into the air as though they meant to touch the dome of the sky itself.
Thick smoke swirled up high, billowing in noxious clouds.
She grabbed hold of Thomas’s hand, overcome for a moment by the sheer destruction of it all.
Had anyone been hurt, or worse, killed? She had no idea, but she said a quiet prayer for anyone who might have been caught in the conflagration anyway.
“Move along!” a man wearing a deputy badge ordered them.
Clary nodded. “What happened?” she asked as she slowly steered the horses by.
The deputy, red-faced and soot-streaked, shrugged. “Not sure. It seems that a lamp or something got knocked over in the saloon, and the fire took the neighboring tobacconist with it. Now move along! You’re in the way!”
Clary hurried the horses on down the street.
“We should try and help,” Robert said, leaning his head out of the stagecoach’s window. “Let’s take the coach to the Lucky Bull and then we can come back.”
“But we have our own business,” Lucy said, sticking her head out of the other window.
“We’ll go to the inn anyway,” Thomas said. “We can discuss what to do from there.”
He directed Clary down a side street. Soon the inn came into view.