“Thank you,” Royce said. Mr. McLain was a grumpy sort of man. His newspaper articles reflected his attitude on life. Royce tucked the newspaper under one arm. He would read the account of the robbery later.
Beaumont was how far away he wondered. Not more than fifty miles. On a fast horse a man could rob the train and be back at Junction City by sunrise.
Chapter Five
Royce held open the door to the general store and watched as a man stepped onto the boardwalk. He had stooped shoulders with a rounded back. His brown hair was unkempt and stringy. Blue eyes were furious looking in a deeply tanned lined face. He held his lips in what could only be described as a snarl. His teeth were large and tobacco stained. The man muttered to himself as he walked along the boardwalk. There was something familiar about his hard features.
“Good morning,” a soft feminine voice greeted while Royce stood his hand still holding open the door as he stared after the strange looking man.
Royce pulled his attention away from the stranger. Imogen Gaines stood in front of him. Her brown eyes were friendly. Dressed in yellow she looked like a golden Angel. “Good morning Miss Gaines,” Royce replied hastily removing his hat. “Do you know that man,” he asked indicating the stranger.
Imogen pulled her lips back into a grimace as she wrinkled up her nose and scrunched up her eyes. “Mr. Ferguson,” she said trying hard not to show her revulsion. She witnessed surprise registering on Royce’s face.
“Milton Ferguson? Miss Ferguson’s brother,” he asked for clarification.
“One and the same,” Imogen replied. “He’s as mean as a badger let out of his cage,” she confided. “The man has a crush on Faith.”
“A crush on Faith? Your sister Faith,” Royce repeated before turning back to Imogen. His mind was working overtime. Was Milton Ferguson the reason Dean had tried to get cozy with Faith. More to the point had George Dean discovered Ferguson’s connection to Barlow. Royce turned his head and watched Milton Ferguson shuffle across the road. Then the man pushed open the swinging doors to the saloon and disappeared inside.
“Don’t mention Mr. Ferguson’s name in front of Faith unless you want a fight on your hands. That sister of mine might look docile but she can and has whipped her weight in wildcats. Miss Ferguson hates Faith for what she did to Milton when he tried to force his attention on her.”
“Milton Ferguson tried to force himself on Faith,” Royce’s words were harsh as blood rushed through his veins and his heart pounded in his ears. He discovered he was boiling mad over the insinuation.
“Not that kind of force,” Imogen replied, intrigued by Royce’s reaction. If she did not know better she would think Mr. Hargadon was in love with her sister. “He tried to kiss Faith,” Imogen explained.
To a young woman like Miss Gaines trying to be kissed by a hooligan like Ferguson would be unacceptable. “What did your sister do to Mr. Ferguson,” Royce asked intrigued by what Imogen would say.
“The next morning there was a note on the school door dismissing classes for a week while Miss Ferguson nursed her brother back to health. Or so she says.” Imogen’s laugh was soft and husky. “Since then Mr. Ferguson has stirred clear of Faith. Only sometimes I wonder if he isn’t plotting revenge. He’s that type of man. I know father worries about my sister. He insists she not go out alone.”
“An admirable decision,” Royce replied. “A young lady can never be too cautious.”
“Come to dinner,” Imogen said impulsively. “It is Faith’s turn to do the cooking,” she added mischievously. It was about time some eligible young man became interested in Faith. That is, someone other than Mr. Cook. She understood why Faith loathed the man.
“Being invited to dinner to a man that does his own cooking sounds like ambrosia,” Royce replied.
“Ambrosia. Food for the gods,” Imogen smiled sweetly. “You haven’t tasted Faith’s cooking yet.”
“Pa says my cooking is not fit to feed Arkansas hogs,” Royce replied.
“As bad as all that,” Imogen said impishly with a smile in her voice. “Then, you will enjoy Faith’s cooking,” she continued. “On Saturdays we girls take turns cooking. It gives Mother a break.”
“Which week do you cook,” Royce asked.
“Next week,” Imogen replied. “You might want to give next week a pass. As you just said my cooking is not fit to feed Arkansas hogs.” She smiled at Royce. Not in a flirtatious way. Imogen was just friendly by nature.
“Since I am invited to dinner I must finish my shopping,” Royce replied. Conscious the good citizens of Junction City were becoming too interested in him standing outside the general store talking with Miss Gaines. After all he was the new schoolteacher and she was the Minister’s daughter. “Twelve o’clock,” he asked.
“Yes,” Imogen replied before she continued down the boardwalk. Royce resisted the impulse to watch her. Not wanting to add speculation to curiosity.
An elderly man was behind the service counter when Royce stepped inside the general store. There was a family resemblance between the old man and Mr. Morse. “You’re the new schoolteacher,” Mr. Morse Senior said a few minutes later. Everyone seemed to know he was the new teacher before he was introduced leaving Royce to wonder if it was something about him or was he just a new face.
“Yes Sir,” Royce replied. The next ten minutes were spent filling his shopping list. “When a man wants to do some hunting where are the best places to go,” Royce asked the old man.
Morse senior scratched is balding head before pulling on his clean shaven chin. His eyes twinkled as if remembering better days. “Now let me
