Chapter 6 #2
On the top back of the chair rose an adjustable, curved contraption, also with padding on either side to hold the head in place.
Jared had told everyone in town that he’d spent a pretty penny on it, but Nathaniel didn’t know how many dental customers he had.
Most people in town didn’t trust dentists, even though they liked and trusted Jared as a barber.
“What can I do for you, Jared?” Nathaniel asked, turning his back on the chair and crossing his arms over his chest.
Jared glanced around the room, which of course was empty. His eyes shifted between the numerous windows that allowed better lighting into the place; two in the front, and one on each of the sidewalls, and two more on the rear wall.
“Heard somethin’ the other day at the saloon, thought you might wanna know.”
The saloon. That was another reason why Nathaniel wasn’t about to allow Jared to poke around in his mouth.
A haircut was one thing, but work on his teeth?
No siree. Jared had a fondness for Barney Dooley’s rotgut whiskey at the saloon.
Barney had converted an old, abandoned cabin into a business venture years ago.
The bar consisted of a plank of wood resting on two wooden barrels.
A shelf pounded into the wall behind it bore several bottles of whiskey and a set of not-always-clean glasses.
Beer was ladled from a keg behind the bar.
Additional barrels of warm beer were stored in the old root cellar beneath the structure.
“What is it?” Nathaniel prompted.
“Heard some gossip over there,” Jared said softly, again looking out the open doorway as he gestured toward the saloon. “About that stagecoach that was attacked the other day, the one with the injured lady you brought back to town with you.”
Nathaniel frowned. “What’d you hear?”
“They were sayin’ things,” Jared commented.
“I didn’t hear all of it though, something about same gang that’s been causin’ trouble in the region, kind of like the one I was told caused some problems around here years ago, back when …
well.”” He lifted a hand and hurried on.
“You know I wasn’t here then, so I don’t know who they were talkin’ about, but I just thought you’d wanna know. ”
“Who was talking about it?”
Jared shrugged. “Not sure. Coupla men just passin’ through on their way to Amarillo or Lubbock, can’t recall which. I was sittin’ in the corner so I didn’t hear much but one of ‘em was talkin’ to the other man he was with.”
Anger burgeoned inside Nathaniel’s chest, as it always did when reminded of his father’s murder.
That’s what it was, plain and simple. His father had been bushwhacked, hadn’t even had time to draw his gun and defend himself.
He closed his eyes a moment and calmed his anger at the memory.
“Can you give me a description of them?”
Jared thought a moment. “Well, the first one, the one talkin’ ‘bout the stagecoach attack, was kinda tall and skinny. Had dark blond hair from what I could see under his hat, whiskers, and looked like he’d hit on hard times, his clothes dirty and somewhat torn.”
“And the other one?”
Jared shifted nervously. “Mean. He saw me glancin’ at him and he snarled at me!” He looked up at Nathaniel. “And I mean really snarled, I saw teeth and everything. A bit heavier than the other one and dark hair, dressed a little bit better than the other too.”
Nathaniel pursed his lips, thinking. He hadn’t seen anyone like that around town, but it’s not like he visited the saloon unless there was trouble there. “What did they say that got your attention?”
“The skinny one said somethin’ along the lines of they made a mistake with the stagecoach.”
“That’s it?”
Jared nodded. “That’s all I overheard and then I put my head down and did my best not to hear any more. Drank my whiskey and skedaddled back home.”
Home for Jared was a small room at the back of the dental office. The tiny space didn’t contain much more than a wood framed narrow bed, a side table, and pegs hanging on the wall to hold a change of clothes.
“Thanks, Jared. If they come back around again, you let me know.”
“I hear you, Sheriff, but they didn’t look like anyone you’d want to mess with, if you know what I mean.
” He frowned. “I don’t know if they had anything to do with that stagecoach attack that killed Roger and Hank, but I haven’t seen ‘em since, thank goodness, but like I said, I thought you should know.”
Nathaniel left the barber’s office, turned north and headed back onto Main Street.
At the corner, he looked to the north of town.
Ezra Winter, the undertaker, took care of his business in the small structure on the northeast side of First Street.
The town church stood on a small knoll to the northwest, the cemetery behind it.
Closer to town toward the western edge stood the boarding house. Once again his thoughts returned to Chloe. He didn’t really believe she was just ‘wandering’ around looking for a place to live. Was she running from something or someone? If so, who and why?
He was also forced to try and determine what it was about her that attracted him, both physically and emotionally.
There’d been more than a few times when he’d seen what might be heartache in her eyes, a yearning for something, and it wasn’t just a roof over her head.
Maybe she’d lost someone recently. The more he thought about it though, the more he wondered about the coincidence.
She’d been the only passenger on the stage.
Was there a connection? Or was the attack an unfortunate coincidence? He decided that when Chloe got home from the orphanage with Lillian today, it was time to have a serious talk with their new house guest and part-time employee.