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Miss-Spelled, by GENEVA It was humid April afternoon in the early 1860's, and I was brushing down to the horses, when the sheriff poked his head in the stable door. "Jim, can you come into my office for a minute when you are done?" I washed my hands, dried them on a rag and pushed my way in the door. Sam was sitting at his desk, peering at a letter. "Yeah, Sam, you wanted to see me. What about ?" "I got this letter here from Bob Simms. He's the lawman in Frenchman's Bend." "Frenchman's Bend? Where's that?" "It's in a loop of the Mississippi, just a bit north of Baton Rouge. It 's been settled about forty years or so. Started by a Frenchman, and so the name, but I don't know much more about it. Bob's had a spot of trouble and wonders if I could give him some help. I was his deputy once. Well, things are quiet here, even for a one horse town like this, but not so quiet I can go off myself. But why don't you go? You've got the makings of a pretty good lawman. You've got the energy, you're careful. and you're a smart fella. That was a nice bit of work you did for me last month, and this business in Frenchman's Bend might be your style." "Thanks Sheriff." About a month previously I had asked a few questions around the settlement and finally tracked down an elusive robber through some of the swamps."What's on at Frenchman's Bend that I can help with?" "Bob's not really sure what's going on, but it seems there was a bunch of young rowdies started causing a lot of mischief. Well, they eventually got into some robbery and Bob had to bring them in. They rounded up most of them and some will be on their way to jail, but they haven't been able to catch the last one. He seems to have just disappeared. Maybe you could go and give Bob a hand and see what you can dig up, as a favor from us to Bob." He grinned at the expression on my face." Oh, don't worry, you'll be paid. You know, you've got the same money habits as that Scotch mother of yours." I did not know whether to take his comment as a compliment or an insult. My mother's thrifty habits were almost a legend around our area. Sam leaned back in his chair." You know, if you make a good impression, you could be in line for getting the sheriff's job in Frenchman's Bend. Bob Simms is getting on. He's talking of quitting the job. They really need a young fella like you." Well, as a deputy in a small Louisiana settlement I wasn't exactly rolling in money. True, I lived at home with my mother, but money was tight, and I wanted a new horse. Maw had also been hinting it was time I got myself a wife and settled down. I don't think it was a much for my welfare as that she was getting on a bit, and wanted grandchildren. I hadn't hit it off with any of the local girls yet, but I supposed I would want to get married sometime, and I would need some money to get set up. " Sounds good. Maybe you'd better tell me more about it." "Sorry, Jim, I can't tell you much more than I already gave you. You'll have to ask Bob yourself when you get there." "Sure, I'll go and take a look. See if I can track the missing guy down, although I can see a problem. I won't know the area." "Yeah, but you're persistent." I got an early start and got to Frenchman's Bend late the next day. It was a small sized town, but looked reasonably prosperous. The town jail was even freshly painted. I pushed my way through the door and saw a grizzled man in his sixties with his feet up on a large table. "Bob Simms? Sam Larsen said I should see you." "Oh yeah, nice to see you. Glad you could come, Jim Johnson is it? " he wheezed. " Yes, it's Jim." We shook hands. His grip felt weak. I could see right away, as Sam had said, that Bob was not up to sheriff's duties much longer. "Well, Jim, many thanks for coming to give me a hand. But first, it's too late in the day nowfor you to get a place to stay. Frenchman's Bend is too small for a hotel yet, and I'm sorry, I only have a small house, but you can bunk down in the jail tonight, then maybe see about lodgings tomorrow. There's widow in town has a spare room, and she might be glad of the extra money. There's a saloon across the street. I don't advise staying there, but the food's good, so you can get something to eat there." I grimaced, but at least I would not have to put up with his wheezing that night. The saloon meal was not bad. Even the bunk in the jail was better than nothing. I had slept in worse before. I heard Bob's wheezing even before he got in the door next morning. I had been up an hour and washed my face, even had coffee and bacon at the saloon. "Okay, Bob, Sam was telling me you needed my help. What's this all about.?" "Some weeks ago we had a bit of trouble around. It started off as minor stuff, but then it got worse, fires set in fields, barns burned, and so on, so I had to take it seriously. To cut a long story short, I found out it was some of the young bucks around, some of them from good families. Well, the richer families were glad to pay fines, but some of them from poorer families are now off in jail for a spell. The funny thing is that we can't find one of them, Jake Carrier. He seems to have been the ringleader. Pity too. He's another from an old family, the Carriers. In fact his grandfather, Rene Carrier, was French, and one of the first settlers in this area. He practically founded the town. That's why it's called Frenchman's Bend, although Rene moved a bit out of town a few years later. Yeah, I remember old Rene." "Rene was Cajun French, you mean?" "No, I think I heard he was real French, from France, but he married a Cajun woman from the delta area south of New Orleans, then they settled in this area and raised a family. Three sons and two daughters, but only the eldest son stayed around. That was Clement. Clem for short. He married a woman from Georgia, Louisa Stuart. Clem was killed a while ago, leaving Louisa in charge of the place, and it's their son Jake who's missing. I've snooped around the place, but there is no sign of him. Louisa says she hasn't seen him for a week or so. I suppose she could be hiding him somewheres, or he may just have gotten out of the area, but why don't you see what you can find out?" " If I was Jake I would probably have lit out too, come back when the trouble has blown over." "Could be you're right, but like as not he's skulking around somewhere. I just hope he's not dead in the bottom of some swamp. None of his pals know where he has gone." "Any suggestions where I start?" "Why don't you go out to the Carrier place first. See what you think of them? Take the road out east . Head out about a couple of miles or so then turn north for about another five. You'll see a big rambling white wooden house over to the left. That's the Carrier place." "Did Clem and Louisa have any other kids?" " There is one more, a daughter. She's about nineteen or so, a nice girl, bright, spunky, pretty red hair, but otherwise kinda plain. Martha's her name. I saw her in town just after the trouble when Jake disappeared, getting some fabric, yarn and women's clothing and stuff at the dry goods store." "What like is the family?" "Clem was a real gentleman, but tough, and Louisa is a pretty strong willed lady too. Rules the place with a rod of iron, so they say. Took over running the place, just like a man. It must be ten years ago that Clem died, but she never remarried. Louisa used to be involved in lots of stuff, church, school an' so on, but we haven't seen as much of her since Clem died." "So who looks after the house, if Louisa is so busy ?" "Oh, Louisa had an old black woman used to do the cooking, and the housework. She also died about four years ago, and since then, I don't know. I think Louisa and Martha mostly do for themselves." " What does Jake look like, and how old is he?" " Jake's about your height, dark hair, but a fair complexion, wears a black mustache, and has gray eyes. He's about eighteen. A bright kid, but old enough he should have have got some sense now." "He's been in trouble before?" "Yeah, like all of the bunch he ran around with. There was rumors of earlier trouble, minor stuff though, and I never heard officially about it, but I know his maw was getting very annoyed with him." Bob took another wheezing turn, then a spell of coughing. "Excuse me, Jim. My chest's pretty bad. Too many nights in smoky saloon rooms, and this damp climate don't help." It was quite a pretty road out to the Carrier place, well shaded with liveoaks and hickories. The land looked fertile, the fields filled with crops in vigorous growth. I was in no real hurry and I thought I would enjoy the morning so it took me a couple of hours to get to the place. As Bob had said, it was a big rambling white house, two stories, and well looked after. As I turned my horse into the Carrier property, through the cotton fields around the house, some field hands looked at me cautiously, but kept on working. I knocked at the door, and, when a grey haired woman in her fifties opened it, I introduced myself. "Good morning, Ma'am. My name is Jim Johnson. I'm a deputy sheriff. I'm looking for Louisa Carrier." "You're speaking to her, Son." We shook hands. She had a strong confident grip. "Now, what can I do for you?" "Sheriff Simms asked me to come out and see you, about your son Jake. I hear he's missing." " Oh yeah," she sighed, "I've been expecting a visit fom the sheriff. Anyway, Son, why don't you come in. " She ushered me into her parlor. Louisa was about medium height for a woman, inclining to put on a bit of weight, but still straight-backed. Her face was tanned, but still fairly unlined. Her clothes, although plain, were store bought, so I guessed the family was fairly well off. Her manner was straightforward and open, certainly not that of anyone with something to hide. Either that, or she was confident of not being found out. "Sit down , Son," and she pointed to a chair at a large polished table. The furniture was good quality , and store bought too. It did not look at all like the crude homemade stuff we had at home. I ran my hand over the sleek polished surface. Louisa grinned at me. " I see you noticed my stuff. Good quality , isn't it? Clem's paw got it after he built this house. He was French, you know, from Bordeaux, France. Came here a year or so after the Louisiana Purchase. He had a bit of money, and got set up real well." She sat back in her chair. "Now, Son, what can I do for you?" "Well, Ma'am. I'm really here to ask you some questions about your son Jake. See if I can maybe find out what's happened to him." I asked her some details about Jake and her answers confirmed the brief information I had got from Bob. "Ma'am, can you tell me how long is it since you saw Jake yourself?" "About two weeks. Well, sixteen days to be accurate. That was the time I heard about his latest trouble. I challenged him about it, and I didn't see his face after that." " Did he mention he was going away, or anything?" "No, not a hint." "Did he take anything with him, clothes, boots? " "No, other than the outfit he was wearing, all his clothes are still in his room." "Do you know how was he dressed?" "Oh, Grey pants, black riding boots. A brown leather coat, an' vest. A gray check cotton shirt. At least, these are missing from his room." "Did he take a horse?" "Yes, I'm missing one of the horses, the one Jake liked to use. It's a bay,with a white sock on the right front leg. It's a gelding." "Have you any idea where Jake might be? Any of the swampy areas, or the woods in the area?" "No, I don't think so, Son, but you're welcome to go looking." "You don't seem too concerned." "Son, my Jake was, is, " she corrected," not too bad a kid at heart. I think it was a tragedy when Clem died. I couldn't give him much of a woman's touch, or a man's discipline neither. I maybe got too busy with running this place. Maybe Jake needed his paw as an example, but he seemed to have a talent for mischief. I don't know whether I was too hard or too easy with him. But I'm sure he's fine now. I think he's learned his lesson, and won't be getting into any more trouble." "You also have a daughter Martha? Did she grow up okay?" She looked at me for a second or two. " You're a pretty shrewd customer, Jim. But kinda rude too. No, Martha is a good girl, steady, responsible. I rely on her a lot. I see you've been asking around." I held her gaze. "No more than Bob Simms told me. Anyhow, it's a lawman's business to find out things." She shrugged. "I suppose so. Well, Martha is just fine, a real nice girl. She's a lot of help to me." I heard noises from the kitchen. "That'll be Martha now. Martha?," she shouted, "A visitor here." I heard a voice from the kitchen, but I could not make out what Martha said. Then a second or two later I heard the swish of skirts and one of the prettiest girls I had ever seen entered the room. "Martha, " said Louisa, "This is Jim Johnson. He's deputy sheriff, come asking about Jake." Martha seemed slightly wary, but she curtsied slightly. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Johnson." I was taken aback at her curtsy, and it must have showed. When introduced, most women I had met just nodded their heads, or occasionally, like Louisa, shook hands. Louisa grinned. "We're a French family. My husband liked the old manners, and he thought Martha should use them. I used to, as well, but I guess I've given it up. Martha still acts the lady though." Martha blushed slightly. It made her even prettier. Bob Simms had said Martha was a bit plain, but I wondered if he had not seen her recently. This girl was a stunning beauty, tall, slim, red haired, and green eyed, with high cheeks and full lips. I noticed her nice poised figure, slim waist and high bust, and the graceful confident way she carried herself. Her movements were delicate and feminine. She was also quite well dressed, no homespun. All was store bought clothes or materials. "Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Johnson? It's going to be a warm day. Maw, how about you?" Martha's voice was soft, but lively. "I've got some nice whisky, Jim, or would you like fresh made lemonade?" said Louisa. "Just lemonade I think." Actually I would not have minded some whisky, but I wanted to keep my head clear. "I'll have a glass of lemonade too, Martha, " said Louisa, " and pour yourself something too and come and join us." Martha rustled back into the kitchen. Despite myself, my eyes were drawn to her graceful figure and walk. I hastily looked back at Louisa and saw a faint smile on her face. "Yes, she is a pretty girl." She shouted. "Martha, why don't you send Bonnie in with the drinks. Give her something to do." If I had thought Martha was pretty, the next girl who came in, carrying a tray with our drinks, was even more beautiful. I thought I had never seen such a lovely face. Like Martha, she was tall, and slim, well figured. But whereas Martha had been open and friendly, this girl was morose and sullen. Martha moved easily, gracefully, a young woman proud and confident of her appearance. By contrast, Bonnie was tense, her eyes downcast, and her walk was awkward. Her clothing was new, and from what I knew of womens' styles, fashionable, yet she did not seem comfortable or sure of herself. Was I wrong or was there anger in her gray eyes? She was wearing her dark hair gathered into a chignon, exposing a slim neck. Large earrings dangled from her earlobes. These seemed red and puffy, as if she had had them pierced only recently. Silently she offered us each our drink in turn. " Bonnie," said Louisa, " I'd like you to meet Mr. Johnson. He's a new deputy sheriff,working with Bob Simms. He's come asking about Jake. Say hello to him." "Pleased to meet you, Mr Johnson." Her voice was husky. She curtsied too, but clumsily. I heard a slight creaking noise and I had to keep from smiling. She must have been wearing a new corset. I remembered my older sister making similar noises when she was first fitted with a corset. "Now, Bonnie, why don't you and Martha sit down prettily and you can also talk with the gentleman here". Martha sat down easily in a chair, her hands clasped in her lap. From what I saw of the girls' feet, under their long skirts, I noticed both were wearing good quality stockings, and fine store bought womens boots as well. Martha's full red lips were lovely shaped, and her green eyes sparkled. Bonnie, by contrast, sat in her chair, her lips tight , her knuckles white, her muscles rigid, hunched as much as her corset allowed. Her face seemed flushed with anger or embarassment. "I'm sorry to be so rude, Bonnie, but you are... ?" I began to ask. "Bonnie's my niece, my brother's girl. Bonnie Stuart. I should have mentioned it. She's come to stay with us." " I was just wondering, Mrs. Carrier, as Bob Simms said that you only had one daughter." "Maybe I should get her out more into town and show herself off. Don't you think I've got two pretty girls here? " Both girls blushed. Martha smiled and seemed to glow under the compliment, while Bonnie's eyes smouldered and her face remained otherwise set. Louisa and Martha talked easily, but Bonnie kept almost completely silent. Louisa spoke to her occasionally, trying to draw her into conversation, but her answers were mumbled and hesitant. She seemed afraid or unwilling to look anyone in the eye. We sat and talked for another half hour, then I remembered what I had come for. "Thanks for the lemonade, Mrs. Carrier. Now, I'd like to have a look round your property , if I may. See if I can find any signs of Jake." "Sure thing, Son, you won't find anything, but I know you've got your duties to do. When you're done maybe you'll drop in again for a spell before you head back to town." I nodded to the women."It was nice meeting you, Ladies." Martha smiled sweetly, showing white even teeth, and inclined her head slightly. Bonnie's mouth remained clamped shut, but I noticed she had flinched slightly when her mother asked me to call in at the house again . I must have spent a good four hours looking around the area, especially by the river, but it was obvious Jake was not in the area. I was about to pack it in anyway, then, about a couple of miles from the house, my horse shed a shoe. Damnation. I would have to find a blacksmith before my return to Frenchman's Bend, or walk back. It took me about another hour to get back to the house. Louisa was on the veranda, sipping a drink, and working at some papers. "Horse trouble, Son?" "Yeah, lost a shoe." "Too bad. But I'm afraid we can't fix it here. You'll have to get it done in town. But that means another long walk. Tell you what, Jim, why don't you stay and have supper with us, and then stay the night. It's getting late anyway. We'd be glad to have some company. We don't see too much folks out this way." I was elated. I was attracted to the two girls and it would be nice to see more of them. "Thanks very much. I'd appreciate that, if it's not too much trouble, but I have to say," I apologized, "that I wanted to search your house and the buildings anyway. I have to do my job." "I know that, Son. I like you. You're square dealing. Sure, come in. Take your time looking around the house. And the invitation for supper and bed for the night is still open." She got up and stretched. "Will?" she called. An elderly black man appeared from the stable."Yes, Ma'am?" "Would you look after Mr. Johnson's horse, Will. Feed it and rub it down. It's lost a shoe so it may be walking a bit funny." I looked through the house from top to bottom, but there was no sign of Jake. Louisa said his room was more or less as he had left it, except that she had Martha tidy it up a bit. I looked round Louisa's room, but there was nothing. I even looked in the girls' rooms. Martha's room was as I remembered how my sister's room had been, light, feminine, an embroidered sampler and even a few small pictures on the walls, a small table at the window with a mirror, covered with an embroidered cloth, and set with a hairbrush and some fancy combs, a wardrobe with several sets of gowns and clothing,a smal l chestof drawers, and a wash stand with a pretty china bowl and jug. The room even had a light flowery scent. Bonnie's room was much colder, very plain, and just a few outfits in her wardrobe. They all looked quite new, hardly worn. She also had a washstand, set with a mirror, but with only a plain steel comb and an enamel basin and jug. Some clothing was draped on the back of a chair, and some muddied new looking women's boots lay by the side of the bed. Her walls were bare of any pictures. On a chance I aked Louisa if she had a cellar. She shrugged and showed me to a trapdoor, with steps leading down from it. "You'll be wanting a light?" She handed me a candle and I climbed down. There was nothing there but some boxes, baskets, a chair and some pieces of rope, but no sign of Jake. I had been given a room in the top floor of the house. It was plain, but clean. The bed was even comfortable,the pillows soft. I feeling pretty sticky by now so I freshened up at the washbasin. I looked ruefully at my clothes, dusty from the day's travel. I had no change of clothing with me, so I brushed myself off as much off as I could, and went down to the parlor. The table was now set with a white lacy tablecloth, and four sets of silverware, silver candlesticks, even crystal wine glasses. There was a wonderful smell of spicy roast meat in the air. Louisa was now in a full skirted dress, in a dark blue. She had put on a gold chain with a locket, and matching gold earrings. "Gee, Mrs Carrier, you didn't have to get things fancy for me." "It's nice to have your company, Son. Gives me an opportunity to dress up. Now, you like a drink? Bourbon?" "Yes, thank you , Ma'am." Louisa poured me the Bourbon from a crystal decanter. Then she poured a glass for herself. "Your health, Son." We toasted each other. The liquor was good quality. I savoured its pleasant aromatic smell before I took a sip. "Nice stuff!" Louisa beamed. " You may think it funny for a woman to be drinking whisky, but I like the taste. And I make sure I buy good stuff, well aged. No moonshine here, Sheriff." " No, Ma'am, I'm just a deputy, helping out Sheriff Simms for a day or so." I explained that Sam had asked me to do Bob a favor. "You intending to make a living out of being a lawman?" " I hope so." "Don't pay too well, and dangerous too. " The conversation was going in the wrong direction. " Whatever we're having smells good," I offered. "Yes, Martha's a good cook. She likes trying things, just like I did, although I don't get to cooking so much now. Too busy with running the place." "Does Bonnie cook as well?" "She hasn't done as much, but she's getting into the way of it more now." "The girls will be with us in a minute or so. I think they're getting dressed up too, in your honour. We don't get company that often, especially young men." I heard a rustling noise behind me and I realized Luisa was looking at me, Blushing at my manners, I jumped to my feet as the girls came in. I almost gasped. Both were now wearing full crinolined gowns, Martha's in emerald green, Bonnie's in a rose pink. They were both showing pretty shoulders, and a hint of the swell of their bosoms. Both were also wearing their hair up, emphasizing their long elegant necks. Each was wearing jewelled earrings, Martha with a matching necklace, Bonnie with a gold chain. Martha carried herself confidently, but Bonnie, as before, was stiff and tense. I was fascinated with their narrow waists. Like Bonnie, Martha had obviously also taken the trouble to wear a corset. They were both extremely attractive. " I think we are about ready now, Maw, " said Martha. " I hope you like it. I've got Betsy to bring it through from the kitchen." "All right, let's get seated." Remembering my manners, I held the chairs for the women in turn. I was rewarded with a full smile from Martha, but only a forced smile from Bonnie, as if she was embarassed by the whole business. She sat down awkwardly. Her silk dress was tight, showing a slight ridge of the skin across her back from her tight corset, even a hint of the corset laces. Louisa had seated herself by this time. Louisa opened a bottle of wine, filled the girls' glasses first, them leaned over and filled mine. I saw that the bottle had French printing on it, and remarked on it. "Yes, " she said, "Clem's father was from France, so I try to keep some French wines in my cellar." "Your health" Mr. Johnson," said Louisa, and she raised her glass. We toasted each other. I was unprepared for the wine. Maybe I thought it would be sweet, but I guess at that time I had never tasted wine before, at least not a real Bordeaux. I heard a knock at the door, and a black maid carried in a covered dish. She returned with several more. "It's a Creole pork recipe, Mr. Johnson. I hope you like it." said Martha, "and Bonnie did all the other stuff. She's getting to be quite good at cooking." I saw Louisa frown slightly, and I wondered what that meant. Most women Bonnie's age would have long since learned to cook. Bonnie flushed slightly, almost in anger. Was Martha being condescending? The meal was wonderful. I had never tasted such good food, and the conversation was good. Louisa was a good talker, confident and informed, Martha sparkled, but Bonnie only replied politely when spoken too. Otherwise she rarely participated, looking absently if she had something else on her mind. Often she seemed restless, fidgetting and wriggling slightly, as if uncomfortable in her clothes, a pained expression on her face. She also seemed to be having trouble with her hair. As the meal progressed some shortish loose ends hung down. I noticed Louisa occasionally looking at her with annoyance, or even mild malice. I wondered why Louisa kept Bonnie around if she disliked her. When we had finished, I thanked the ladies for the meal and chatted with Louisa while the girls cleared the dishes. Louisa even offered me a cigar, but I declined. I was glad when the girls came back into the parlor with us.They were both very pretty. Louisa was a confident , informed talker. I guess she had to be, running the place by herself. Martha was a lively conversationalist too, but Bonnie remained sullen and edgy. Around eleven Louisa abruptly rose. "I think it's time you two girls went off to bed, " she ordered. Time for your beauty sleep." Martha pouted, and Bonnie bit her lip in anger, but they went off just the same. Louisa obviously ruled the roost at the Carrier place. That night, as I lay in bed. I wondered what excuses I could make to visit Louisa again. Her daughter and her niece were very pretty girls. If I did not hurry to make a move myself I knew that all the young unattached males in the county would soon be around calling on them. I was almost asleep when I must have turned over, and banged my ear against something.The sharp pain woke me up, and then I realised I could hear a woman crying, then speaking, but in distress. It sounded like Bonnie. I could barely make out the words, but by some accident of design the sound must have carried to my room. Louisa was speaking as well. The woman seemed to be crying "... shame.... please. .... sorry ... can't...." Louisa's voice was slightly clearer. " fault... lesson... necessary... woman, behave..." There was a renewed burst of crying then it seemed to fade. I lay awake for several hours, wondering what I had heard, but then, how Louisa ran her house and treated her family was no business of the law, unless she badly hurt them. When I woke in the morning, it was fairly late for me. Through the window I could see the hands already at work among the cotton fields. I washed and dressed as fast as I could and clumped down the wooden stairs, noisily, in case I caught anyone unawares. There was a good smell of coffee in the air. "Morning, Jim, sleep well?" It was Louisa, sitting in the parlor reading a newspaper. "Yes, thanks. I'm sorry I slept so long. I don't usually. I guess your bed is just more comfortable than any I've slept in before." "Thats all right , Son. I'm glad you were comfortable." She was shaking her head at the newspaper. "It looks like the Republicans are going to chose Lincoln as their candidate for president." I had to admit I didn't keep up too well on politics. "I'm sorry. I haven't paid much attention I've never voted. I was too young at the last presidential election." Louisa snorted at me. " I didn't vote neither. I'm a woman. I can't vote, but I can still take an interest in it. So should you." "Sorry, Ma'am." Louisa continued." If he gets in, it will be trouble for us folks in the South. He's agin slavery and that would ruin a lot of folks in these parts. Can't say I really like keeping slaves either, but I've got little choice if I want to compete." She shut the paper in impatience. "Jim, you can get a good breakfast here, then I'll have Will drive you back to town. He has to take the wagon in for some supplies.Did you sleep well?" "Yes. The bed was nice and soft. Much better than my own." "Where are you staying?" "I board with Mrs. Robidaux. She's a widow, so she's glad of my rent money." " So you're not married?" "No, Ma'am. I guess I haven't met the right girl yet." "Uh Jim? You didn't hear anything last night?" "No, " I lied." Was there a noise?" "Oh a little. Bonnie had got a bee in her bonnet about something and was making a fuss. I wondered if you had been disturbed. Well, if not. that's good. Anyway, You'll be hungry, an' I think the girls have some breakfast ready. I'd like you to join us, unless you're in a tearing hurry to get back to town." The breakfast was wonderful too, ham, hash browns, scrambled eggs, grits and lots of cornbread. The two girls sat with us too, but even Martha seemed a bit subdued this time, and Bonnie was silent, but puffy eyed. She was looking at me strangely, occasionally wistfully, occasionally with apprehension. Finally she dropped her fork and rushed from the room, her shoulders hunched and shaking. I felt embarassed. I did not want to be a participant in a family dispute. Louisa looked angry, but carried on with breakfast, speaking in a controlled voice. I made my goodbyes and climbed up on the wagon with Will. It was going to be another nice morning, the sun beginning to break through the clouds, leaving just a hint of mist in the woods, the dewy leaves sparkling in the sun. I tried to get Will into a conversation, and he seemed open about some things, the horses, the road, the crops in the fields, but he was close mouthed about the Carrier place.The answers I got from him were pretty laconic, and got even shorter when my questions touched directly on the Carrier family. I got little more other information than I already knew. " Mrs. Carrier tells me that the horse Jake used is missing. What does it look like?" He raised his hat, scratched his balding head and squinted at me. " I thought she done told you. A dark brown gelding." So I knew Louisa had been speaking to her hands about me. When we got to town I had Will drop me off at the farrier's. I thanked him for the ride, saw about my horse, and walked back to the sheriff's office. Bob looked me in concern."So you got back. I was kinda worried about you. Wondered if Jake had bushwhacked you." " Sorry Bob, not a sign of Jake anywhere." I explained about my horse and staying overnight. " That was right hospitable of Louisa, to let you stay. Maybe she wanted to fix you up with that Martha of her's. She's so plain Louisa must be despairing of getting her hitched." I shook my head. "I don't know when you last saw her, Bob, but I wouldn't say that. In fact she's one of the prettiest girls I've seen, and if anything, her cousin Bonnie is even prettier, although she doesn't have Martha's personality." Bob looked at me with a frown on his face, then wheezed. and broke into prolonged coughing. "Sorry about that, but are you sure you were at the right house? I saw Martha only a week or so ago and I sure wouldn't have called her pretty. A face more like the back end of a mule and a dumpy figure. And if Louisa has another girl staying with her, it's news to me." He grinned at me. "If you can think Martha was pretty, maybe old Louisa put a dress on Jake as well, prettied him up." He guffawed. I was getting red faced. "I can tell you Bob, it was no man. She was even wearing a low dress at supper, and these were genuine female bosoms I saw, at least the parts above her dress, and she was about half a head shorter than me. You said Jake was about my height. Maybe you need new glasses so you can see Martha better the next time she is in town." "All right, all right, take it easy, Jim. This Bonnie's a cousin of Martha's you say? Now I wonder which of Clem's brothers or sisters she's from?" "Neither. Louisa said it was a daughter of one of her brothers." "I don't know that side of the family. Maybe she's giving her some instruction in gracious living. The Carriers aren't really rich, but they're a darn sight better off than some." "Could be. It did look as if they were training her, but she didn't look very happy about it. And I heard her crying in the night." "Well, Louisa's a tough lady. I know she don't take much nonsense. Anyway, so you didn't see anything of Jake?" "No, I searched the house and property, even along by the river and in some swamps, but not a hair of him. You know something funny ? Louisa didn't seem too concerned about, so I think Jake has maybe run off someplace out of the state, and she knows where he is. Maybe he'll turn up in Texas, but I'd like to look around for a day or so more, check out along the river, speak with some of his buddies." I spent another week around Frenchman's Bend, searching the woods, asking around his buddies, the ones that had not gone to jail, talking to folks from the neighborhood, but there was no sign of Jake. I decided I could find nothing and gave a report to Bob. " I'm sorry, but I've drawn a blank. There's no sign of anyone. I know I'm not familiar with the area, but I'm pretty sure Jake isn't hiding in any of the woods or fields. The only other possibility is someone may be hiding him , but we can't search all the houses in the area. I think I'm wasting my time here, so maybe I should get off back home." Bob nodded in agreement. He was about to reply when a kid burst through the door, and began to babble something Bob held up his hand. "Hold on there, Gene. Take it slow. What's the problem?" Gene babbled out that there was some trouble at the saloon. Bob sighed and took a rifle from a rack. "Always something. Probably some fella had a bit too much to drink. I'd better see about it. Maybe you'd better come along too, Jim." The saloon was just down the street, and we could even hear shouting fom outside the sheriff's office. When we got through the saloon door we saw the cause. A large man, dressed in work clothes was standing at an overturned table, a spilled deck of cards and some money on the floor. Bob shook his head sadly. "Oh, it's you again, Jeff. Now why don't you just give up cards or drinking. Come along with me and quieten down in the jailhouse. We'll have a coffee there and then you can go home." The big man glared at Bob, but with Bob's casual words nI saw him beginning to relax, until a smaller man began to pick up some of the money. I saw Jeff getting angry again and beginning to draw a knife. He could have easily stuck it into Bob, but I saw it coming and whacked a whisky bottle over his arm. I heard a crack as the bones broke, but he dropped his knife. He was yelling with the pain, but all the fight was now out of him. Bob glared at Jeff in exasperation. "Now see what you've done, Jeff. Now you'll have to get your arm fixed up, then you'll have to cool off in jail. And it'll affect you working on the farm. Will you never learn.?" We pushed Jeff in a jail cell, and I went down the street to get the doctor to set his arm. Later that night I was back in the saloon having a beer with Bob, courtesy of the saloon owner, when Bob took another coughing spell. "Sorry Jim. I'm really not well. That was a nice piece of work today, but it tells me I'm getting past this work. So does this cough. My wife's been at me to pack the sheriff's job in, and you seem pretty sharp. I think I could persuade the local citizens to give you my job. You interested?" "Yeah, sure!" This sounded good. Maybe with a better paying job now I could think about marrying and settling down, and I immediately thought of the Carrier girls. I was lucky. The town's citizens were only to glad to accept Bob's advice , and within a week I was installed as the new sheriff. However, with going home for a couple of days to get my stuff, and getting settled into the job and other duties I was not able to get out to the Carrier place as soon as I had intended. I did catch sight of Clem and Bonnie in Frenchman's Bend one day, but I was involved in some urgent business at the time and I did not get a chance to speak to them. Then, six weeks after I became sheriff, I was down at the wharf checking on some damage after heavy rains when I saw a bunch of turkey vultures picking at something washed up on the riverbank. When I examined it I found it was the carcass of a horse. It was pretty ripe, badly rotted, but there were scraps of hide still on it, dark brown, and its front right foot was white. It did not have any harness on it. The head was almost picked clean, but there was something funny about it . Trying not to inhale too much I turned it over with a stick. There was a hole in the skull. The horse had been shot. I decided it was time to pay Louisa another visit. Again she greeted me like a friend, and offered me a drink again. I decided I would have some of her Bourbon this time. "Well, Sheriff, what can I do for you this time? This is a ways to come on just a social visit. " "It's not really a social visit, Ma'am. I should tell you, I discovered a dead horse down by the river. There's no harness, but what's left of the carcass matches the description of your son Jake's horse. Funny thing, it had been shot in the head. It may have been washed down the river after that heavy rain we had. I don't suppose you've heard from Jake?" "No, haven't seen his face since you were here last." " It seems funny the horse was shot, at least if it was Jake's horse." She shrugged. "I suppose so, but maybe it got sick, or broke a leg, and he put it out of pain, then got away by a boat or so. Anyway, I'm not worried about him. I know he's all right." I was puzzled my her easy manner. "You seem very sure about that, Ma'am." "Yeah. I just know it somehow." I knew she was holding something back, and it began to convince me she knew more than she was letting on, but I decided to leave it alone. If Jake was away, he could at least cause no more trouble in Frenchman's bend. It was one less troublemaker to bother me. " I should congratulate you, Jim, on getting the job. I think you'll be a good sheriff." She poured another drink. "Your health! Oh, I'm being negligent. I should let the girls know you are here, bein' a single man an' all." She called out. " Martha, Bonnie, we have a visitor. It's Jim Johnson. You know, the new sheriff." "Be with you in a minute, Maw, " I heard a female voice say. I had managed to stop blushing and was taking another sip of Louisa's fine Bourbon when I heard light steps and the rustle of female clothes behind me. I turned to see Martha and Bonnie. If anything, they were even prettier than I remembered. As before, they curtsied to me, and, unsure of what I should do, I gave them a small bow. Bonnie's curtsy had seemed more polished this time. " Nice to see you again, Mr. Johnson. Congratulations on getting the job, " said Martha. Martha was just as vivacious as she had been the last time, but now there was a great change in Bonnie.She seemed to sit far more comfortably, much more at ease, smiled and laughed at the conversation, and even added to it . I could not help but notice her gray eyes, rimmed with long dark lashes. I did not notice the time as it passed. In fact I must have spent two hours there. Regretfully, as I had to get back to town, I made my excuses and declined their offer of supper, but I knew I had to come out again as soon as I could. A week or so later I was about ten miles north of Frenchman's Bend, investigating some rustling. Some cows had been stolen from an old farmer, Tim Halloran. I had tracked the cattle down, and recovered them, even shot one of the rustlers, but the rest gave me the slip and got away across the river. Tim was pretty grateful and had invited me into his cabin for a drink. I was talking with him over a glass, and on a chance, I asked if he had seen Carrier boy. He shook his head. "Let me see, Carrier. I haven't heard of them much since I moved up here. I used to live a mile or so from Old Rene. Clem and his brother and sisters were just kids then. In fact, Old Rene bought me out, to expand his own place, and I moved up here. Quite a man, old Rene." "In what way?" "He was a real Frenchman, from France, you know. He was nice and friendly to talk to, could be real charming with that accent of his, but there was something about him. I never quite trusted him. He already had a bit of money, and he seemed to do fairly well for himself, even though he was just getting his plantation started. Seemed to be a bit of a doctor too, some folks used to say. There was some talk of him doing cures on sick folks. It was even said he fixed a kid with a hunch back, a son of the Bridges family. That's Grover Bridges, now a big man in New Orleans. Heard tell he got a lot of money from the Bridges for it, but maybe it's just a rumor." " So Grover came from this area?" He nodded. "There was other stuff too. oh. You want another drink?" Tim refilled our glasses and continued. He seemed to have got into a talking mood and I was content to let him carry on and hear what he said about the Carriers. " I was down in New Orleans for a week or so about thirty years ago, and, one night I ended up in a whoreshouse with some pals. Well, after midnight there was a bit of excitement. A new girl had stabbed a customer. I heard him shouting and her screaming. The girl, she was a pretty one, gave a weird story she was really a man, and had been kidnapped by a Rene Carrier. Of course, everybody thought she was crazy. The house tried to hush it up, but the story got out and I eventually heard she was locked up. They locked her up in an asylum, but I heard she hung herself some weeks after. Funny thing though.There had been a few disappearances of some young folks, men and girls, around Frenchman's Bend, blacks and Creoles. Course they could have just escaped and gone north." "Did anyone ask Rene about the woman in New Orleans?" He shrugged. "I don't know, but then, what could anyone ask? The story was so ridiculous. Anyway, old Rene died of a bad heart soon after. His oldest son Clem was the only one left at home, and he got the property." I decided it would be worth while asking round about the Carriers to check on Tim's story, and I thought I a visit to Bob Simms would be in order as well. I was shocked at his appearance. He did not look well. He seemed to have shrunken and his skin looked like old paper. I told him what Tim had said. Bob shook his head " Crazy old cuss. He's fond of the bottle an' maybe he's been drinking too much, but you know, Jim, " he gasped, "there were rumors of disappearances before they got me as a sheriff. That's a long time ago now, but it kinda crossed my mind when Clem's son disappeared. If you really want to know about the old days, before I got here, you might want to pay a visit to Momma Perez." "Who's that?" "She's an old Creole woman, lives down by the river, about three miles south of here. It's just a shack at the edge of a swamp." "Is she free, or manumitted, or what?" "Who knows? If anybody did own her at one time, they aint telling. Maybe they're too scared of her. It's said she was involved in voodoo, but I think she's harmless. A bit crazy maybe, but she'd be old enough to remember Rene." I got down to see Momma Perez a week later. It had been the town's fortieth anniversary, and I had extra work just making my presence felt, to discourage any troublemakers. Momma Perez' place was a pretty disgusting looking old shack, with a rusty black stovepipe poking out one side, and patched with what looked like bits of old crates and boxes. The bushes on the narrow path leading to her place were hung with pieces of hair, strangely carved wood, birds' skulls, animals' bones, even a rotting possum, covered with flies and stinking to high heaven. An old woman smoking a clay pipe was sitting on a bench outside the door. She barely stirred as my horse approached her and I dismounted. " Momma Perez?" "That's me. And just who're you , Sonny?" I flushed. I was beginning to think it was time I grew a mustache or beard. "My name's Jim Johnson. I'm the sheriff in Frenchman's Bend." "Oh, I thought Bob Simms was the sheriff. Or has he finally wheezed his way into the grave?" "No, I've now got the sheriff's job, but I was speaking to Bob a few days ago, and he was alive then. He thought I should come and see you about something in the old days." " Must be somethin' real important for a white man, a lawman an' all, to come out this way to see an old Creole woman like me. What about?" I tried to act casual. "Oh. I'm just catching up on some things. I kinda like history, " I lied, " and I was asking Bob about the old days in Frenchman's Bend. Bob says you can tell me about them. I was speaking to an old fellow too, Tim Halloran, and he mentioned something about Rene Carrier. Bob Simms says you may remember Rene." "Now why would anyone come around asking about Rene Carrier after all these years?" "Let's just say curiosity, Ma'am." " Yeah," she said sarcastically," you bein' a lawman an' all. No such thing as idle curiosity." She lifted the pipe out of her mouth and laid it on the bench. She looked at it in dsgust. "Waall, that the last of that t'bacca!" I reached into my pocket and tossed a package at her. Bob had mentioned she smoked a pipe. "Try that!" She opened the package suspiciously, then the old eyes lit up. "Well now, you're a right gentleman, Mr. Johnson. Smells nice too. There's a month of smoking here. I thank you, but you know, Sonny, you make a poor liar. There's something more important on your mind than just the old days." She shrugged. " But now I suppose I owe you a favor now for that t'bacca. You want to hear what I know about old Rene Carrier?" "I do. What have you heard about him?" "Gettin' to be a long time ago. Rene came up here about forty years ago with his Cajun wife. Got a little place where the town is now, then got some more property out of town and began to clear the land. He was even able to pay for some help so he got a good start. Had jes' a log cabin first, but later when his chilluns was growing up he built a big wooden house. I never met him, but he was my, uh, kinda competition, you know, 'cause I used to do a little medicine for the folks around here too, black and white both. But I heard Rene was also doing some stuff, mainly for rich white folks who mostly kept their mouths shut." She cackled."Course he wasn't as good as me." "What kind of stuff did he do?" " Birthmarks removed, toothache, stuff like that. Even heard tell he fixed a hunchback on a boy." "I had heard there were some young folks disappeared. And maybe Rene had something to do with it." " Yeah, some dis'peared, but young folks dis'pear all the time. Maybe some are drowned in the river, some black folks tryin' to get away from slavery, some white folks get sick and tired of grubbin' for a livin' in these swamps and head to other parts." "There was a girl in a New Orleans whoreshouse who said she was kidnapped by Rene." The old eyes looked at me suspiciously. "First time I heard tell of that. " " The girl is also supposed to have said she had been a man." Momma Perez stood up and hobbled about for a bit, stretching her arms "You know, Sonny, there was, oh, about thirty years ago, a family came to see me. Their son had gone missing, then they found him lyin' on the ground outside their cabin a week or so later, wearing a woman's dress. He was wasted with fever, sometimes barely could keep awake, other times he was delirious. They asked me to see him, try to fix him . The boy was mutterin' something about being changed to a girl. I gave him something to quiet him down, but I couldn't do nothin' an' he died a week or so later. That was a mile or so away from the Carrier place. I just put it down to a young fella fooling around. Course, there are some fellas like to dress as girls, act as girls. He may have been one of them. But there was no linkin' it to the Carriers." "Which family was that, that the boy came from?" "My, but you'r e nosy one, even for a sheriff." I looked at her evenly and she cackled again. " The family swore me to secrecy, but that's a long time ago, and I think they're all gone now. It was the Dominick's, lived at Buchannon's wharf." I kept an impassive face. She was wrong. There was an old woman called Dominick still at Buchannon's Wharf, just a mile or so from Frenchman's bend, and I had done her a favor some weeks before. As I made my way back I thought about what I had heard. Old Rene had been better off than most settlers, and it looked as if he had done some medicine. I dropped in to see Bob Simms again. His wife, haggard and concerned, led me into his room. Bob was lying on his bed, shrunken. He looked real bad. "Well Jim." he gasped. " Did you get to see old Momma?" "Yeah, but I didn't learn much." I had decided not to mention the Dominick business. " But tell me. Has Clem Carrier ever been involved in any trouble, or have you ever heard any rumors about him?" "No," he whispered " Clem never gave me any trouble. In fact he was pretty straight, church every Sunday, up until he died. I heard he dealt square with folks. It was only when his son Jake was starting to grow up that any of the Carrier family ever gave me any trouble. "How did Clem die?" " A wagon accident. They had been driving back from town and the horse got spooked by something, and ran off. The carriage hit a tree and he died, musta been instantly." I paid a visit to Buchannon's Wharf the next day to see Old Mrs. Dominick. She lived alone in a one storey house, with just an old dog for company. The dog sniffed me suspiciously, but she welcomed me effusively. "Well, Sheriff, nice to see you so soon again, but I hope it's just a social call this time. Oh, I'm forgetting my manners. Would you like a beer?" It was a hot day and a cool beer was very welcome. "Thank's very much , Ma'am. that would be nice. " " A beer's nice on a hot day, but I'll just have a glass of some juice, if you don't mind. I can't take alcohol like I used to." I waited until she had poured drinks for us both and got settled in her chair. "Ma'am, it's not just a social call that brings me here. If you don't mind. I got some questions, and if it embarasses you. I won't take offense if you don't want to tell me." I repeated what I had heard from Momma Perez. "Was that young man anyone you know?" Her face went white and she sat in stony silence for a minute. "Jim, you're a good man but I'd hoped that business was long gone. Oh, I still grieve for my son, but I hope I'll see him again, and my husband in the next life. An' 'cause I think that'll be soon now, I'll tell you what I know.That was my son Alphonse. Al, we called him." Her story confirmed what Momma had said, but she went on." Sheriff, Jim, I know my son was found in women's clothes, but he weren't no sissy. He liked girls, you know , as men should like girls. In fact he was plannin' to marry one of the local girls. How he got into women's clothes I don't know, but he was either forced or it was a trick." " I heard he was only just conscious. Did he say anything?" "I can hardly remember now. He was very weak, only mumbling, but there was somethin' about a book, and carriages or something." She was starting to cry. She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief." I'm sorry, Jim. It's brought it back to me , but I can't give you more than that." I felt terrible watching her cry. "I'm sorry Ma'am,"I apologized," but I thank you for the information." Feeling like a heel, I finished my beer and took my leave of her. A morning or two later I was walking down the boardwalk, just showing my face, when I saw one of the town drunks lying at the side. I recognized the face, but I was surprised to see him wearing a fairly good quality coat, in brown leather. As I shook him he opened a bloodshot eye. "Mornin', Sheriff, can I help you?" "Jesse, you could help me by drinkin' less an' not messing up my town. But say, that's a nice new jacket you have. Where did that come from?" Jesse painfully sat up, but, as a spasm hit him, he held his head in his hands. " Sorry, Sheriff, must have been some bad drink." "Jesse! Your coat. Where did you get it?" " That was the Baptist minister. Said he had been given it." I had intended to pay another visit to the Carrier place pretty soon, but I got too busy the next week with some trouble down by the river. Then Bob Simms died. It was a Baptist funeral and after the ceremony I got talking to the minister. "Reverend? I was speaking to Jesse the other day. He had a nice new leather coat, said he got it from you. That was sure nice of you." "Well, Sheriff they don't pay me as much I can be as generous as that. No, I was given it, or at least I found it in a bag at the church door a month or so ago, and I assumed someone wanted it to go to charity." " So you've no idea where it came from?" "Sorry, Sheriff. I can't tell you. Is it important?" "Maybe. It may be like the one Louisa Carrier said her son was wearing before he disappeared. Maybe I'll go and tell her." "Uh, Sheriff, I guess you haven't heard. You should know, Louisa Carrier. She passed away two days ago." I was thunderstruck. "What? I didn't know she was sick." "She wasn't. I understand she just keeled over. Her daughter Martha came to see me yesterday, when she was in to see the undertaker." "Where's she being buried? When?" "At her place, tomorrow. I'm taking the burial ceremony. There's a family plot where the Carrier folks are buried, old Rene, his wife, and Clem." It was a short, simple ceremony. There were a bunch of their neighbours there, but, as I was one of the younger mourners, the minister got me to help out as a pallbearer. Martha and Bonnie were in black, of course, and heavily veiled. Afterwards, the minister announced the girls wanted us to go back to the house for a coffee or a refreshment and a something to eat. Even in black, the girls were beautiful. Martha had taken off her veil and was stunning in her red hair. Her eyes were red, but she held herself well, even managing a brave smile or two. I heard one of the neighbours ask what their plans were, whether to sell up or keep the plantation running. "Too early to decide." Said Martha, but I reckon I'll carry on with the place. Maw put her life into keeping it going after Paw was killed, and I'd like to do the same." One of the other mourners asked. " You will have been left the place in the will?" "Yes, Maw showed me the will a month or two ago, but it's a half share to me, and a half to Bonnie. " "No mention of Jake?" "No, not at all." "Are you all right with Bonnie getting a half share?" "Oh yes, I'm glad Maw did it that way. Bonnie and me, we're like sisters. I'm glad she's provided for." Bonnie was looking serious too, but I noticed she had not been crying. She was more composed than Martha and moved briskly among the mourners. Eventually I was able to corner her. "I'm very sorry about your loss, Ma'am." "Thank you. Mr. Johnson. It will be strange not having Maw around." She hesitated. " I mean Aunt Louisa." Her face reddened. "Sorry, I'm a bit confused. " She bit her lip. " You'll miss Louisa, I bet." "Yes, but now I can run my own life." I remembered that night I had spent at the Carrier house when I heard her crying. I wondered what kind of household Louisa had run. Still, at least Martha seemed to be really upset her mother was gone. "What happened with your aunt. How did she die?" " Will said he and, ....Aunt Louisa, were working outside. She had been planning an addition to the house. You can see there is some work started on it," She pointed out of the window to an almost completed stone foundation. "Louisa had sent Will to get something and as he was getting back, he saw Louisa fall over. Will ran to get us right away, but it must have been fast, as Louisa was dead when we got to her." The mourners were now beginning to leave and I had business to attend to anyway."Well Ma'am, I'd better be on my way." Bonnie saw me to the door. I took her hand briefly." If you don't mind, Miss Bonnie, I'll check in on and off, just to see you two ladies are all right." Martha had now come up to us and heard my offer. "Yes please, Sheriff, we'd like that." I noticed that Bonnie gave a slight pout. As I was about to ride off, I saw the house servant Betsy standing by the porch. She was wiping a tear from her eye. I nodded briefly to her. "Well Betsy, so that'll be a change here?" "Yes, Suh. I guess so." "Well, take care of Miss Martha, and Miss Bonnie. Uh. Betsy, " I asked,"how long has Miss Bonnie been here?" Betsy's answer confirmed what I had heard from Louisa, then I asked, "How did Bonnie get out here?" "I dunno, Suh. Missus Carrier had sent me and Will off to N'Awlins for three days to get some stuff fo' the house, an' she was here when we got back. Missus Carrier didn't tell us nothin' more. Poor lamb, Mizz Bonnie must have been ill with her travel. She was in bed two or three days, fevered, delirious, Mizz Louisa said, an' ordered us us not to disturb her. I heard her screamin' sometimes. I think Missus Carrier musta used a lot of whisky or laudanum to keep her quiet. It was days 'fore Mizz Bonnie come downstairs." True to my word I dropped in at the Carrier place a week later. I was heading back to town after being out to the west of Frenchman's Bend on business. When I knocked at the door, no one came right away. I could hear noises from inside the house and I knew there was someone around, so I shouted. The noises stopped and in a minute Martha came to the door, looking flustered. "Oh, how are you, Mr. Johnson? Won't you came in? I'm sorry I didn't hear you right away, Bonnie and I were doing some cleaning. Forgive me, the place is really a mess." She was not exaggerating. The furniture was moved around, and boxes, baskets and other stuff were scattered all over the place. I heard the sound of something heavy being moved upstairs. " I'm sorry to interrupt, Ma'am. Looks like you are doing some cleaning, but I just thought I should step in and see how you were getting on." "Thank you, Sheriff. That's very kind of you, but I think we are doing as well as can be expected. We've decided to carry on here at least for a bit." "Yes, thank you, Sheriff." I turned to see Bonnie looking at me. She was dressed in work clothes, her hair was straggling and her face was slightly smudged. "You'll have to forgive us. You've caught us in the middle of work. I dare say you have seen us fancier dressed." "Yeah, I guess so, but you look just fine to me, Ma'am." Bonnie's face actually flushed slightly."Sheriff, now that you're here, I wonder if you would mind giving us a hand. We need a man's strength. We were moving some furniture around, and now we can't get it back. It's in Maw's room." They led me upstairs and pointed out a large chest of drawers was sitting in the middle of the floor. Martha pointed to its base. "One of the legs has got caught in an uneven floor board and it's too heavy for us to lift unless we remove all the drawers." I got it moved easily back against the wall. Both girls smiled at me gratefully. I felt on top of the world. "Thank you, Sheriff," said Bonnie. "Can we give you a drink? " "Sure, thanks very much." " Then if you'll come downstairs I'll get you something. It's time I took a break too." As I passed Bonnie's room, I was struck by the contrast from the previous time I had looked in. It was now tidy, with lacy curtains on the windows, and a small posy of wild flowers in a vase, even a small picture on the wall. There was a starting embroidery sampler in a frame. Bonnie led the way downstairs. I admired the view of her back. The slim waist, the easy manner she now carried herself. Her poise had improved immeasurably since the first time I had met her. "Or better, " said Martha, "would you like to stay for supper? Mr. Harrison is coming over later in the afternoon. I don't know if you've met him. He's the son of one of or neighbors'" I felt a pang. I knew Jed Harrison. He was a young fellow about my age, and very likely interested in the girls. I tried to hide my feelings of jealousy. Luckily I had no pressing business back in town so Jed would not have the girls to himself. The parlor looked different too . The girls must have rearranged the furniture in it. They set me down with drink and excused themselves to the kitchen, but ignoring their protests I followed them in and watched while they prepared a chicken for the oven. Even the kitchen was different from what I remembered. All the pans and storage jars had been moved around. Jed Harrison arrived a few minutes later. I saw him give me the wary look of spotting a possible rival, but I was disappointed when I saw Martha's reaction. Her already sparkling eyes took an extra shine. "Oh well," I thought. "Maybe that settles that." It looked like I would have to settle for the quieter charms of Bonnie. In fact we had a pleasant supper with the two girls. It was not nearly as fancy as that time with Clem, and there was no wine, but the food was tasty and filling. Martha, as usual, was full of conversation, and Bonnie quieter, but improved over any previous visit. She seemed to be coming more and more out of her shell all the time, and I was more and more attracted to her. When it was just beginning to get dark, Jed and I took our leave of the girls and headed out. His road home was in the same direction as mine for a mile or two and we got talking. "How long have you known the Carrier girls?" "Quite a time. We're not exactly neighbours, but my father had dealings with Clem first, then Louisa later." I remembered now I had seen Jed at Louisa's funeral. Jed was continuing " I even met Martha once or twice, but she's really changed. She used to be well, a bit dumpy. But she sure is a pretty girl now." "Did you know Bonnie before?" "No, I don't think I ever did. Martha says she is a cousin came to live with them. I don't know why, or what happened to her own folks. She's quieter than Martha, but she's another pretty one." I made a made up my mind to get out to the Carrier place a day or so later, but before I could do it I got an opportunity to visit New Orleans, on some