“I tell you the truth, Jenny, I wish those fellas would take their business to the Mud Hole, and leave us alone,” Charley said as he wiped down the bar. “I hardly made enough to keep the bar open.”
“You certainly got that right,” Jenny said. “I’ll have a drink, Charley. Only this time, make it a real one.”
Charley poured a drink of whiskey and slid the glass across to her, then poured one for himself. They held their glasses toward each other in an unstated salute.
“I wonder what they are doin’ here?” Charley asked.
“I’ve heard some say they came here to settle the score with Matt Jensen for Poke Terrell,” Jenny replied as she tossed the drink down.
When Matt and Kitty rode into Medbury the next morning, they rode by an empty lot just south of town. On that lot were gathered several young boys, playing the game of baseball.
“Throw it to him, Jimmy, throw it to him! He ain’t no hitter!” someone was chanting.
“Come on Carl, you can do it. All we need is a hit!”
Matt looked over toward the game just in time to see the batter swing and miss.
“Ha! I told you he ain’t no hitter. What’s a’ matter, Carl? You got a hole in your bat? What was you swingin’ at?”
“You can do it Carl, you can do it.”
Matt watched the next pitch, then he saw Carl swing and connect. He heard the cracking sound of the bat hitting the ball, and saw the ball flying high over the outfielder’s head, who turned and chased after it. With his efforts cheered by the other members of his team, Carl started running toward first base.
The circumstances of Matt’s childhood had caused him to miss out on many childhood activities, including baseball. Sometimes he felt as if he had been cheated. Then he realized that he had been given personal tutoring by Smoke Jensen—and he wouldn’t have traded that for all the baseball games in the world.
As it turned out, Matt had not made arrangements for the railroad cars when he came into town last week, so he and Kitty were here to finalize the arrangements and set the date that the twenty five cattle cars would arrive. But before they went to the depot, they stopped in front of a shop which had a sign boasting:
ANNA COOKE
Latest Fashions Sewn Here.
“You go on, I’m going to stop in here and talk to Anna for a few minutes,” she said.
“I can wait out here for you,” Matt offered.
Kitty chuckled. “You are sweet, Matt, but you don’t want to wait on me. These are women’s things, and if you knew anything about women, you would know that no matter what we might say, we never do anything in just a few minutes. I wouldn’t dream of dragging you along with me while I take care of them, so you go have a beer, play some cards or something. I’ll meet you at Railroad Cafe for lunch, then we’ll go to the depot.”
“All right,” Matt agreed.
Kitty smiled at Matt as he rode on up the street, then she stepped inside the dress shop.
A small bell attached to the top of the door jangled as Kitty pushed it open and stepped inside.
“I’ll be right with you,” a voice called from the back of the shop.
“It’s all right, Anna, I’m in no particular hurry,” Kitty replied.
A moment later a middle-aged, rather buxom woman stepped through a door that led to a back room. She was holding a piece of material in her hand, and there were a couple of pins sticking out of her mouth. She removed the pins and smiled with she saw Kitty.
“Kitty,” she said, happily. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Hi, Anna.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I need a new dress for Chicago.”
“Oh, my, Chicago,” Anna said. “How exciting. What kind of dress are you looking for?”
“I’m not sure. I was hoping you might suggest something.”
“Let’s start with the color,” Anna said. “That will give me an idea.”
“All right.”
“Black or brown?”
“No, definitely not black or brown,” Kitty said, shaking her head.
“Not black or brown. Good, that narrows it a bit. Let me make a few suggestions and see what you like. How about white and serene?
“White and serene? That sounds too—virginal,” Kitty said.
Anna laughed out loud. “You are awful, Kitty.”
“Aren’t I?”
