Horse With No Name (7 page)

The girl nodded.

Mr. Hunter had no memory of who had beaten
him. With the stained glove as her only clue, Julia wanted to find
out more. She knew almost nothing of Hunter, beyond his occupation
and his name, but she remembered that at the dance on Saturday
night, Lily Cecil had seemed familiar with Hunter.

Julia took a small breath and softened her
energy somewhat. She knew she had a tendency to come across like a
stallion with the bit in its teeth when she was on a mission. It
served her schoolteacher persona well, and kept the children in
line, but sometimes she knew people felt she was a bit fierce. Lily
Cecil looked like someone who needed a soft touch on the reins
rather than a strong hand. "Please call me Julia."

The girl nodded again, concern and a slight
fearfulness shrouding her eyes.

"I wanted to ask you about the dance on
Saturday night. I believe I saw you there."

"You did." Lily's tone made the statement
almost a question.

"You were standing with James Hunter at one
point, I believe."

Now the girl's brow creased with a lack of
understanding. She shook her head slightly. "I don't know anyone by
that name."

"James Hunter, the watchmaker?" No
recognition lit Lily's eyes, so Julia continued to explain. "You
both were standing near the punch table, sort of close to the front
of the class...that is, the far end of the room, farthest from the
door. After Mr. Hunter and I came in from outside?" She made it a
question.

Still Lily's brows were creased. She wiped
her hands again on her apron and glanced around, perhaps looking
for Mrs. Finnegan to rescue her.

Julia continued, undeterred, "Mr. Hunter is
about this tall." She held her right hand just above the top of her
own head. "He dresses very neatly and wears a nice watch chain."
Julia was struggling to describe the man. All gentlemen wore dark
suits and most had whiskers.

"Oh, James!" Lily finally said, while Julia
was grasping for what more to say. Lily gave a small laugh. "Mr.
Hunter. Yes. Now I know who you mean."

Julia relaxed. Now they were on common
ground. "Not that it's any of my business, but did you know Mr.
Hunter before you arrived in Horse?"

"Um," Julia could see Lily thinking, "Yes.
Yes, I did know him. We were at the same school in Granville,
though he was a few years ahead of me."

"What a coincidence that you would both
arrived here, then."

"It is." Lily nodded and waited with the
patience of one who doesn't make many of their own decisions in
life.

"Did you know Mr. Hunter was beaten badly
yesterday?"

"Mrs. Finnegan told me, yes."

"Pardon me for being impertinent, but if you
knew Mr. Hunter from your school days, do you know any reason why
anyone would want to hurt him? He doesn't remember anything."

Lily's eyes grew slightly wider as she
thought about this. She shook her head, but it was not a decisive
shake.

"Do you know if Mr. Hunter knows anyone else
in town, besides yourself?"

Again Lily shook her head.

Julia couldn't be sure if the young woman was
shy or just not very intelligent. Her answers weren't
satisfying.

Caroline Finnegan came into the room through
back door, a basket of carrots and beets in her arms.

"Julia. How nice to see you."

Lily bent to her task again, rolling the wide
wooden pin over the dough on the table.

Caroline put her basket down on the wide
table in the middle of the room. "Did you hear that Olivia Smith is
having a baby?"

Distracted, Julia shook her head.

Caroline continued, talking about the Smith's
joy at having their first child and how Mrs. Thoreson was already
working on a quilt for the baby. Julia hardly heard her friend.

"...and then we'll get together once
Christmas is over."

Julia snapped back to attention, "Pardon
me?"

Caroline looked up from the basin where she
was washing the carrots. "You're distracted today, aren't you? I
said we'll have a tea once the baby is born, which will probably be
after Christmas."

"Oh, yes. That will be lovely."

Lily continued making her apple tarts. She
studiously avoided Julia's eyes, carefully placing apple slices
into the little dough pockets she had made.

Julia excused herself and left the kitchen
via the back door into the yard behind the hotel, her curiosity
unsatisfied.

Nine

Overnight, Julia thought
about her conversation with Lily Cecil. It had left her with a bad
taste in her mouth, but she couldn't figure out why. Julia, who was
becoming better at spotting a liar after six weeks of dealing with
school-aged children who were always covering something up, didn't
sense that Lily was lying. But still, the conversation left her
with an odd, unsettled feeling.

She dressed quickly on Wednesday morning,
wanting to make sure she had time to visit Merrick's office before
she had to be at the school. One of these days, she muttered to
herself, I'm going to have to get some new dresses, as a button
fell off the sleeve of her favorite blouse, one with slightly
puffed sleeves. Sewing had been her worst skill growing up. Her
mother used to despair at Julia's crooked stitches and off-center
buttons.

"How is a woman like you supposed to catch a
husband if you're not even dressed properly?"

The secret was that Julia had no intention of
'catching' a husband. In those days she still had her heart set on
being a lawyer like her father and back then the thought of
marriage made her shiver.

As a model, her parents' marriage was
satisfactory; they tended to mostly leave each other alone to live
the lives each of them wanted. Julia's father, Judge Thom, spent
most of his life traveling to preside over cases around the
province and smoking cigars with his cronies in New Westminster.
Her mother adored playing at being lady of the manor, and hosted
teas and lunches for anyone who would sit still long enough. She
supervised Julia's education, torturing governesses when Julia's
piano playing or drawing was sub-par. Which was always because
Julia only wanted to read and to sneak into her father's study to
hear him talk about his cases.

"Dammit!" A button came off her other cuff.
Quickly she pulled the blouse off and found another in her wardrobe
that was not too wrinkled.

When she was completely dressed except for
her boots, she pulled her riding jodhpurs on, up under her skirt,
and then sat to button up her boots. If things went as planned, she
would need the riding pants on immediately after school and didn't
want to take the time to come home to change.

Merrick was at his desk, though it was barely
eight o'clock. He was hunched over a stack of papers, reading while
eating an apple. The door to the office was propped open with the
head of a hammer whose handle had broken off. The fall day was
crisp and the air smelled wonderful. Merrick couldn't resist airing
out the office, which had a faint odor of vomit from town drunk
Arthur 'Sully' Sullivan's last overnight stay.

"Oh, good, you're here." Julia sped into the
office, startling Merrick slightly, and sat down in one of the
guest chairs that faced his desk.

Merrick's office was dark and a bit gloomy,
which was too bad, for he was a fellow who loved bright sunlight.
Although, in the heat of a North Okanagan summer, when temperatures
could read 100 degrees in the shade, he was always glad for the
north-facing windows. The floors were stained a dark color, as were
the walls. Julia wondered, when she had first seen the room, if
this had been intentional; this was not a place of frivolity. The
men who were housed here temporarily, in the small, barred
enclosure at the back of the room, were often not long for this
world.

Several cabinets stood to attention behind
Merrick, their drawers hanging open in some cases. The paperwork
that flowed through a constable's office was endless; he was tax
collector and notary public, birth and death registrar and local
weather man. Dealing with criminal activity was most often the
least of Merrick's worries.

Perpendicular to the desk, the telegraph
table was set against one wall. Other than the mail, this was
Horse's only means of communication with the outside world.

Julia noticed a fine layer of dust over
everything that had not been moved recently, and a clean circle on
the desk demarking where the apple Merrick was eating had been
until moments ago. The constable's black, wide-brimmed hat was
hanging on the coat tree in a corner. Merrick kept his suit jacket
on in deference to the slight chill in the air from the open door.
The small parlor stove at the back of the room was not lit.

Julia was amused to notice that Merrick's
face fell when he looked up and saw her taking an uninvited seat.
She’d realized the day before that she got quite a lot of enjoyment
out of torturing the police constable. He did not appear to be
someone who could be ruffled easily, and yet, she noticed he often
seemed a little ruffled around her. She liked having this effect on
someone so large and imposing.

She smiled at the man, "Good morning,
Constable Merrick."

"Good morning, Miss Thom. Please tell me
you've come in to ask about the stage coach schedule."

"I haven't, but tell me anyway."

Merrick watched her for a few beats. Finally
he said, "I won't waste your time. Or mine. Why don't you tell me
why you're here?"

"You mentioned that you were going out to the
Double A Ranch today to question the drovers there about the
interrupted..." she faltered slightly, and then rallied, "incident
at the dance on Saturday night."

Merrick nodded, chewing slowly.

"I would like to propose something. But
before I do, will you promise to listen to me without prejudice
until I am finished?"

The constable thought about this for a
moment. He swallowed. "I won't promise, but I'll try."

"Fair enough. Here's my suggestion: wait
until school is finished today so that you can take me with you to
the Double A."

"No way."

Julia was shocked by the rapid response. She
began to speak but snapped her jaw shut and pursed her lips. When
she opened them again her voice sounded grave. "Now, Constable, you
promised to listen without prejudice and..."

Merrick interrupted her, "And I did. I
thought about your idea and then I rejected it. I told you when you
suggested going with me to the Green ranch that the idea was
inappropriate. It's...it's... I don't even have a word for it. Miss
Thom, I am an officer of the law. You are a civilian without the
requisite legal authority to be questioning suspects with me. I
cannot and will not take you with me to the Double A. There is
nothing further to discuss."

***

"It's a fine afternoon for a ride, isn't it?
The horses seem to be really enjoying themselves." Julia shifted
her reins to one hand and patted Stanley's neck.

Merrick grunted at her, not wanting to agree,
even though she was right.

She had worn him down and won the argument
about taking her with him to the ranch. She’d pointed out that she
was the only person who could potentially identify her would-be
attackers and that without her the trip would be futile. Whoever
Merrick spoke to would deny having been at the dance, and also deny
threatening Julia. If he took her with him, he would save time and
have a definitive answer to the question. His trip the day before
to Middle Lake Ranch had been unsuccessful and every hour that he
spent riding around to local ranches was another hour away from
town. Finally, feeling caught between a rock and Julia Thom's
torrent of words, he'd given in.

But he was not happy about it.

Julia liked it when Merrick sulked. She was
learning to deal with the moods and upsets of the children in her
classroom and dealing with Merrick at times just gave her more
practice.

Walt joined them, and Julia was grateful for
this. He so often provided a buffer between herself and Constable
Merrick.

The three horses walked shoulder to shoulder,
Julia's paint horse, Stanley, in between the two enormous animals
on either side of her. Had the Double A been any further out of
town, Julia's plan to have Merrick wait until after school to ride
out would not have worked. But the ranch was within easy riding
distance and the trio would make it back to Horse by supper time
and before dark.

Julia inhaled deeply, appreciating the scents
of dry grass and soil. Crickets chirped as they walked. A startled
thrush flew up in front of the group, and all the horses flicked
their ears forward to watch but stayed calm.

Julia was riding astride her horse, as she
always did. Her long skirt flowed over Stanley's rump and the
jodhpurs underneath it made her feel capable. She always felt less
hampered by her gender when she was riding.

The silence and space allowed her to think
and, unbidden, visual memories of the night of the dance came to
mind. She could still smell the men who had grabbed her, their
tobacco and dried sweat, the oddly sweet smell of the breath of
First Man. Julia tried to push the images away but they popped up
again, like corks in a bathtub. The shiny knife First Man had held
to her face, its blade flashing in the night, despite the lack of
light around them.

She readjusted her reins and tugged on her
hat brim, trying to get away from her own thoughts. The men rode on
silently and Julia tried to come up with a topic of conversation to
distract herself. The group crested a hill and turned slightly to
their left. The Double A house and barn came into sight. Julia
estimated that they must be on the ranch's land already, for the
house was set almost exactly in the middle of the property.