Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
Alexandra’s gaze slid to Lisa, who also looked vaguely alarmed at the amount of lace on all the tables and shelves. They exchanged a grimace.
All doubts were quickly erased when Mrs. Bruin reappeared with a small but highly polished silver teapot with cups. Most importantly, there was also a plate of shortbread. Her mouth began to water at the smell of them, still warm.
“Dig in, my dears, dig in,” Mrs. Bruin said, pouring tea for the pair of them. “Goodness knows you need to get your strength back up. Quite the time of it you’ve had,” she said, piling a few cookies onto a small plate for Lisa.
“Thank you for receiving us,” Alexandra said formally. This was the first call she’d made since she’d moved, and she refused to let it go poorly because of some faux pas on her part. “I would have had a card sent ‘round first, but we haven’t had a chance to call on the stationer’s yet.”
Mrs. Bruin stared at her for a moment before bursting into a knee-slapping laugh. “There’s no call for all that,” she said, smiling at Alexandra. “We don’t stand on airs and graces here too often. I can remember when there were only two other families out here—company is always welcome.”
“You’re too kind,” Lisa said. “Unfortunately, I must confess that our visit today has an ulterior motive.”
“Oh?” Mrs. Bruin said, her teacup halfway to her mouth. Her eyes shifted from Lisa to Alexandra. “And what might that be?”
“Well, it’s sort of an awkward request,” Alexandra began. “The thing of it is, the ranch is… I suppose you might say that it’s not in the most financially stable situation.”
“Ah,” Mrs. Bruin said, nodding gravely. “Properly cucumbered, are ye?”
Alexandra blinked at that. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but yes, I suppose we are,” she admitted.
“We’re hoping to have a sort of community festival on the grounds.
It would give us a chance to sell more horses, and to let the town get to know us.
We’d sell a few cakes and pies while we’re at it. ”
“Alexandra is a wonder with a pie crust,” Lisa piped up helpfully, daintily covering her mouth, which was full of cookies.
“The trouble is that we’re also wanting to organize games and contests, possibly sell a few other goods,” Alexandra continued, shooting Lisa a look. “But we don’t know anyone else in town, and…” She trailed off.
“You’re worried it would be awkward to go making requests of the ladies of the town,” Mrs. Bruin finished. “Yes, I see the conundrum.” She drummed her fingers on the table—covered in a lace tablecloth—for a good deal longer than was comfortable.
“I’ll tell ye how it is,” she said at last. “I can get ye the ladies. Half of them owe my Aldous for a birth or a burying, and the other half will come because the first half did.” She fixed Alexandra with a look that had rather more iron in it than her round face had led one to expect.
“What I can’t get ye is their husbands’ money.
That’s a different article altogether, and it’ll be got on the day or not at all. ”
“Are you sure?” Alexandra asked. “I know that it’s a lot to ask of you.”
“Pish posh,” Mrs. Bruin said, waving her off. “Think nothing of it. Although there is one thing I must know,” she said, her face thoughtful. “How on earth did someone like Aidan Rawlins end up in this sort of situation?”
Alexandra exchanged a look with Lisa, unsure how much she should reveal about her husband’s predicament. Lisa gave her a tiny nod.
“To tell the truth of it, it was mostly his late brother,” Alexandra admitted. “I don’t care to speak ill of the dead, but I understand that he was in quite a bad way with most of the town when he vanished.”
Mrs. Bruin began to make sympathetic noises, but Alexandra interrupted her with a raised hand. “I wonder if you might help shed some light on a particular aspect of this situation for me—I imagine there’s not much of the town history you don’t know.”
“Oh, well, I suppose that’s rightly true,” Mrs. Bruin agreed, preening a bit.
Alexandra leaned closer and lowered her voice. “What can you tell me about Kevin Black?”
Immediately, a cloud passed over Mrs. Bruin’s face. She sat back in her chair, holding her teacup as if it were a safe barrier between her and the question. “What might you be wanting with the likes of him?”
“Please, my dear Mrs. Bruin,” Lisa said, leaning forward. “We would never ask you to discuss someone so…” She paused, searching for the word. “Uncouth as Kevin Black if it weren’t of the greatest importance.”
Mrs. Bruin considered. Alexandra held her breath, wondering if she had accidentally offended the redoubtable lady. Made and lost a friend in less than an hour, she thought glumly. That’s a new record even for me.
“So,” Mrs. Bruin said finally, “I imagine you’re wanting to know what sort of viper he is because either you or someone you love is in his coils.”
Alexandra didn’t say anything, but gave the barest of nods. Mrs. Bruin pressed her lips together.
“Well, I’ll tell you right now, there never was a lad meant to go as wrong as Kevin Black, and he seems hell-bent on going as far down that path as he can,” she said grimly.
She set her teacup down and plopped in another spoonful of sugar, stirring so vigorously that her spoon clanked against the cup in an erratic rhythm.
“Is he really as terrible as all that?” Alexandra inquired.
“He is,” Mrs. Bruin said. “And I’d not say so to another soul in this town, so you’ll forgive me for saying it quiet.”
She took a deep breath, settling her hands in her lap.
“It was years ago now. The Rawlinses and the Blacks came out of the same quarter of St. Louis, along with my dear husband, and they all came west in the one company. That was before ever there was a Virginia City, mind. We were all down in Gold Canyon then, scratching at the placers with the rest of the hopefuls, and we came up the hill together in fifty-nine when the lode was struck. I remember meeting Kevin’s father.
Never was a meaner snake of a man, quick with a lash and a sharp tongue, and his temper broke over that boy’s back more times than I care to think on. ”
She paused, taking a sip of her tea. Alexandra followed her lead, though it had gone tasteless.
“He’s been dead these ten years, and no grand loss. Though it always struck me as an odd sort of death, and I’ve never once said so aloud until this minute.” She shrugged. “He may have simply drunk himself into the ground. Who’s to say.”
Alexandra shivered. “You don’t mean—”
“There’s no telling.” Mrs. Bruin’s mouth thinned. “But with his da gone and buried, there was nothing left to hold that boy in check. He ran wild a while. Then he came into money that nobody could account for, and began lending it out on terms no Christian would offer.”
“And the sheriff can do nothing?”
“The sheriff has been trying to lay a hand on Kevin Black these six years and hasn’t come away with so much as a fingernail. Nobody will speak against him, y’see.” She looked down into her cup. “The ones who did aren’t here to say so.”
Alexandra sat back in her chair. Her hands were cold around the teacup, and she did not want to put it down.
“Take heart, Drina,” Lisa said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “What would you recommend one should do if they found themselves in his bad books?”
Mrs. Bruin gazed at Alexandra and Lisa. “I can’t rightly say,” she said at last. “But I would advise you to do whatever it takes to get yourself out of that hole as fast as you can.” She leaned across the table, covering Alexandra’s hand with her own, and squeezing her fingers. “Whatever it takes.”