“Well, I’m Custis Long and pleased to meet you both and he’ll likely outgrow it, ma’am. Are you getting off at Bitter Creek?”
“Yes, my late husband has a sister there. Or, rather, she and her husband live just north of there, at a place called Crooked Lance.”
“Do tell? I hope somebody’s meeting you, then. Crooked Lance is more than a day’s ride from where we’re all getting off.”
Mabel Hanks looked stricken as she flustered, “Oh, dear, I had no idea! How on earth will we ever get there? You don’t suppose I’ll be able to hire a hansom cab in Bitter Creek, do you, Mister Long?”
“Not likely. Don’t your kinfolks know you’re comin’?”
“I’m not sure. My sister-in-law was very gracious to invite us to come and live with her, and frankly, we have little other choice right now. We, ummm, were not left in very gentle circumstances by my late husband’s unexpected passing.”
“My daddy made beer in Saint Louis,” Cedric offered in a piping voice, adding for the whole car to hear, “The angels of the Lord took him when a streetcar ran over him one morning.”
“Cedric, dear heart, will you please be still?”the mother gasped. She looked as if she were about to cry. Longarm quickly cut in with, “You say you’re coming out invited, ma’am. Can I take it you wrote your kin what train they could expect you to arrive on?”
“Of course. The railroad was a bit hazy on just when, but I sent them a telegram by Western Union when we boarded at Omaha.”
“You sent the wire to Crooked Lance, ma’am?”
“Of course. Western Union says there’s an office there. Is something wrong? Forgive me for presuming, but I seem to detect an odd look in your eye, sir.”
Longarm shrugged and said, “May as well come right out and say it, then. The telegraph line’s been down for some time, ma’am.”
“You mean they couldn’t have gotten my message? They won’t be waiting for us? Oh, dear! Oh, what are we to do? What’s to become of us?”
Longarm could see more heads turning as the widow matched her infernal brat’s damned noise with considerable attention-getting near-hysterics of her own. He quickly soothed, “Now simmer down, ma’am. It’s not all that big a shucks! Your kin will be there. Crooked Lance is only out of touch, not swallowed up by wolves!”
“Yes, but they won’t be waiting for us at the station in Bitter Creek, and you say there are no cabs, and… oh, Lord, I don’t know what we’re to do!”
“Well, now, let’s just eat the apple a bite at a time, ma’am. I’ll help you get your things from the station to the hotel once we arrive, which shouldn’t be all that long now. Once you’ve et and bedded down Cedric here, we can ask about Bitter Creek for friends of your kin or something. Shucks, there’s a chance someone from Crooked Lance will be there.”
“But what if…”
“Don’t cross your bridges before you come to ‘em, ma’am. At the very worst, you’ll arrive in Bitter Creek unexpected and have to spend a day or so at the hotel ‘til your kinfolks know you’re there and send a buckboard to fetch you. As to how they’ll know, I’ll tell ‘em. I’ll be riding to Crooked Lance come sunup, and if you give me a message for anyone in Crooked Lance, I’ll likely deliver it within a day or so.”
Cedric grinned and asked, “Can’t we go to see Aunt Polly with you, Mister?”
It was a fool question, but Longarm saw that the widow seemed to think the kid’s question made sense, so he shook his head and said, “Not hardly. The army mount I borrowed from Fort Laramie is alone with my saddle and trail gear in the freight section behind us. Don’t seem likely the three of us would fit comfortably in a McClellan saddle, and if we could, the old army bay couldn’t carry us far enough to matter.” To the widow he added, “I’ve already thought of a hired buckboard, ma’am, and I’d be proud to give you a lift, if I had any idea where the town was and how much trouble I’d have getting there.”
He saw the hope in her eyes as she insisted, “Forgive my boldness, but, as you see, I’m desperate. We’d be willing to take our possible discomforts with good grace, if only…”
“You might be, but I wouldn’t, ma’am,” Longarm, cut in explaining, “You see, I’m not paying a social call in Crooked Lance. I’m on U.S. Government business and, while I’ll be pleased to tell your kin where to find you, there’s no way I could see fit to expose you and the boy here to possible danger.”
“Danger?” she gasped, “I had no idea! Are you going to Crooked Lance to arrest someone?”
“Let’s say I’m just having a looksee, ma’am. I don’t mind talking about my self, but Uncle Sam’s business is sort of private. No offense intended, but we do have these fool regulations.”
“Oh, I understand, sir. Forgive my stupidity! I never meant to pry!”
The conductor saved Longarm from having to think up a gracious answer as he came through the car, calling out, “Next stop Bitter Creek, folks! We’ll be pulling in about ten minutes from now. Please have your selves ready to detrain sudden, as we ain’t stopping to jerk water on the downgrade!”
“We’d better go back to our seats,” the widow said, but she didn’t seem to be moving. She licked her lips and, not looking at him, asked, “Is, uh, this hotel in Bitter Creek liable to be expensive, sir?”
“Don’t know. Never stayed there before.”
“You don’t suppose they’d charge more than a dollar a night, do you?”
“Dollar a night’s pretty steep, for a trail town hotel much less. Can’t hardly be much more, ma’am.”
“Oh. You’re sure you’ll be able to reach Crooked Lance in two days at the most?”
“No, ma’am, I said I aimed to try.”
“Oh, dear.”
