The Whippoorwill Trilogy - Sharon Sala Page 0,273

asked.

Eulis held out his arms and grinned.

“Won’t I do?”

Letty sighed. “But we already buried that part of our lives.”

Eulis frowned. “What would you have me do, plant the baby without saying a single word?”

Letty shuddered. “I guess you’re right. You say the words over that baby’s grave, Eulis, and I’ll be proud to stand beside you when you do.”

“Tell Alice I’ll be back soon.”

“We’ll be ready,” Letty said.

Eulis winked at her, then stepped off the porch and headed for the small shed where the horses were stabled.

Within a few minutes, he had his horse saddled and was headed down the mountain into town. His heart was heavy with regret for the circumstances that had ended the little baby’s life, and sad for Alice Mellin who was still legally bound to her brute of a husband.

Milton Feasley was trying to sweep the latest collection of mud from the front of his store, when he looked up and saw Eulis Potter riding in from the south end of town. He paused, watching the tall, homely man and thinking to himself that Potter was damned lucky. That wife of his was something of a hellcat, but she was pretty as she could be—and tough. Lord, but that woman was tough. He’d been part of the crowd that had watched her take a bullwhip to George Mellin. And just the other day, she’d stood down that nest of women right here in his store who’d judged her and found her wanting. He’d also heard that she took in Mellin’s wife. It was generous of her, but the way he looked at it, she could afford it. Then just this morning he’d heard someone say the Samuels family had drowned in the flood, except for their little girl, Katie. The gossip was that Letty Potter had taken in the child, as well. He wondered what Eulis thought about all those strange women settling in at his fancy new house, then waved as Eulis rode past.

“I got them blankets put aside for you just like you asked!” Milton called out.

“I’ll pick ’em up later,” Eulis said, and continued down Main Street toward the livery stable.

Milton wondered what the Potters and Alice thought about the judge turning George loose, and then decided it wasn’t any of his business to pass on the news.

The street was a quagmire of mud. The ruts that weren’t rained out were a good foot deep, and full of water. Even the smelter at the far end of town had shut down for the simple fact that it was impossible to pull a loaded ore wagon through this mess. But the arrival of the stagecoach yesterday had been a delightful surprise. It meant the freighters shouldn’t be far behind.

Milton gave the sidewalk a last sweep with his broom, then went inside. It didn’t pay to stay out long, what with so many idle people lingering inside his store. Most were pretty hard up, and he didn’t trust them not to pocket his goods without paying.

He was busy filling the banker’s list when Eulis rode back past the store, so he didn’t see the little coffin tied to the back of the horse. Even if he had, he wouldn’t have given it much thought. Life was hard. Some lived. Some died. It was just the way it was.

Eulis met Robert Lee at the far end of town. Robert Lee had come in to purchase some coffee and salt. With mining at a halt all over, he was at loose ends, too. But when he saw the tiny coffin tied to Eulis’ saddle, his smile died.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“I’m takin’ this baby girl up the mountain to bury. Her mama is stayin’ with us for a while.”

Robert Lee’s voice softened.

“What happened to her?”

“Starved to death,” Eulis said shortly. “Her Daddy is the man Letty took a bullwhip to.”

An odd expression spread over Robert Lee’s face, but Eulis didn’t notice.

“I heard somethin’ about that man today,” Robert Lee said.

“Like what?” Eulis asked.

“That judge they were waitin’ for came in on the stage and told Sheriff Ham to let him go.”

Eulis frowned. “Gawd… don’t go and tell Letty. She’ll have a big enough fit when she finds out on her own.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“I reckon I’d better be gettin’ on home,” Eulis said. “Still got to have a buryin’ for this little one.”

Robert Lee glanced at the tiny, rough-hewn coffin, and then looked up the mountain. He wouldn’t let himself think past a baby’s funeral. No need torturing