The town of Wiltshire was not a little hole-in the-wall, Jamie decided
as he rode down the main street. It was really quite sophisticated, with
rows and rows of Victorian houses with their cupolas and gingerbread
lining the roads that ran off the main street. Along the main street
were any number of businesses--two different mercantiles, a barbershop,
a corset shop, a men's wear shop, a cooper, a photographer, a mortician,
a pharmacy, a doctor, two lawyers, a boardinghouse for young ladies and
an inn that boasted a sign, 'Perry McCarthy's Shady Rest Hotel--Stop
Here and Dine! We've a Restaurant for Any Respectable Traveler,
Gentleman, Lady or Child.'
He wondered how well Perry McCarthy was doing. The streets were very
quiet.
In front of the barbershop a few men sat around and puffed on pipes.
One was missing an arm, another was minus his left foot. A pair of
crutches leaned against the wall behind him.
The men looked at Jamie as he rode by. The 125 war, Jamie thought. These
men had fought in the war.
Southerners, like he'd been. Even if Miss. Stuart was insisting upon
calling him a Yank. Well, he was a Yank. Hell, they were all Yanks now.
Because the damn Yanks had won the war.
'Howdy,' he called out to the group.
The fellow with the stump for an arm nodded.
'Stranger in these parts, aren't you, mister.'
'Yes, sir, I am. But it seems to be a nice enough place.'
'Used to be,' the man minus the foot said, spitting on the ground.
'Used to be. But then the varmints started coming in and taking over.
You know how that is. You don't hail from these parts, but I don't think
that's any Chicago accent you got on you, boy. Where you from?'
'Missouri,' Jamie said.
'Missouri,' the footless man repeated. He stroked his graying beard with
a smile and settled back.
'Well, now, I hope you stay a while.'
'I was planning on it. I thought I'd buy some land.'
'Don't think you're going to be able to, not good land.
Oh, there's some land up to the north for sale, but it's pure desert.
You don't want that, boy.'
'Well, I'll look around. I heard that Joe Stuart was killed. Maybe I can
get my hands on some of his land.'
The man without the arm was up in a minute.
'Don't you go looking around to be a vulture after Joe's place. You'll
wind up dead yourself, young man.'
'Maybe you'd better shut up, Carter,' the other fellow muttered.
Jamie leaned down, smiling.
'Fellows, Joe's niece is alive and well and kicking, I can tell you.'
'Miss. Tess!' The one named Carter gasped with pleasure.
'Why, that's the best news I've heard since '61! You telling the truth
there, boy?'
'Sir, I'm over thirty,' Jamie politely told him.
'And I think I count. double time for the war, my friends, so that makes
me pretty darned old, and nobody's boy.'
