Involved: Day 15

Word Total: 90,007

Year to Date: 90,007

Summary of Events:

Reaching Main Street the next morning, Samuel was astonished to see the street lined with wagons and impressed to learn that they were all laden with donations for the miners who were out of work because of Kelly's incarceration. The following day Charlotte was one of several people helping hand out the foodstuffs and other non-monetary donations in the town's church building  . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“Alright, just what is going on here?” an accusatory male voice demanded.

Charlotte startled and stood up to see two men standing in the middle of the room.

One she recognised as Valentine Allison, who was a younger, less grey-haired version of his uncle Virgil; the same light brown hair, hazel eyes, narrow face, pointed nose, thin lips, and lean frame, as well as the same ostentatious suits.

Standing beside him was a shorter man with hair that appeared to be greying — Charlotte couldn’t see the natural colour because he was wearing a hat — and had a badge pinned to his vest engraved with the word Sheriff; the sheriff, she noted, was shorter than Mr. Allison, which she thought made an interesting contrast.

It wasn’t a great height difference, the crown of the sheriff’s hat made him look the same height as Mr. Allison, however, it was clear by their shoulders and their eyes being at different levels that the sheriff was shorter, just by a small measure.

“We’re giving aid to the needy miners of Georgetown who are unable to work because their employer is presently incarcerated,” Mr. Annesley replied levelly, although with a hint of accusation toward the end of his response.

“Unable to work,” Mr. Allison scoffed. “Really? You think these louts are unable to work? They just don’t want to work. I would readily give them work if they’d just get up off their sorry rear ends and do something.”

Charlotte put her hand over her mouth, scandalised.

The miners currently in the building turned toward Mr. Allison, looking quite angry — and Charlotte didn’t blame them in the least.

“If they were decent and respectable citizens they would work,” Mr. Allison sneered.

Some of the miners stepped in closer and Charlotte saw Mr. Allison’s arrogance falter slightly.

“We work for living wages, not slave wages,” one of the miners growled.

“Regardless of the respectability of these men or their deservedness of these donations, this gathering is illegal, and I hereby declare everyone in this building under arrest and all items in need of return to where they came from,” the sheriff declared loudly.

Charlotte looked down at Ella, who was looking at the sheriff and Mr. Allison. How could he place children under arrest?

“Excuse me, but you have no authority over this event,” Charlotte — and everyone else — turned to look at the speaker, a man wearing a nice grey suit with matching vest, whom Charlotte had already observed to be close to Pastor Carrington’s age.

“I’m the sheriff of this town, I am the law around here,” the sheriff replied hotly.

“And I am Mr. Howard Wells, State Legislative Representative for the area encompassing Georgetown,” the man replied firmly. “I have come to oversee this distribution for the State, as a result, this event is State-sanctioned, making it outside the purview of a town sheriff. No one is under arrest, and no donations will be returned, and if you cause any harm to anyone who is receiving these donations it is you who will be arrested and taken back to Denver for trial.”

The sheriff looked quite furious, but said nothing; instead, he turned on his heel and stormed out. Mr. Allison surveyed everyone arrogantly and followed the sheriff out the door.

Next Post: 1 February.

Involved: Day 14

Word Count: 84,004

Summary of Events:

Charlotte watched Ira and Violet's things get packed in anticipation of going to Georgetown before setting out in the company of her brother Neil and Pastor Carrington, a former circuit minister who'd had to quit because of a back injury, who was going to take on a pastoral role in Georgetown if the people desired. Samuel arrived at the Annesley home for supper and discovered that the lovely Mrs. Preston had a younger sister who was — based on her self-identification as Miss — unmarried, but she didn't seem attracted to him at first glance. Charlotte was getting ready for bed when a wagon train arrived from Denver with supplies and donations for the miners — prompted by the miners who attended her father's church having told their coworkers about the troubles in Denver until the whole city had begun a collection campaign; as Pastor Carrington had been out late visiting with Kelly at the jail, Charlotte was eager to hear if he had more details on what all was in the wagon train, thus she waited eagerly at the top of the stairs while Mr. Annesley opened the door . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“Did he start talking or something?” Mr. Annesley asked in his warm, kind, grandfatherly tone.

“No,” Pastor Carrington said, sounding disappointed. “I just got warmed up and gave him an extra-long sermon on hope, and then I prayed for a long time. The sheriff was rather annoyed with me.”

“Considering he’s not a Christian man I’m not surprised,” Mr. Annesley said.

“Nor I,” Pastor Carrington agreed. “I’m actually surprised he let me stay as long as he did without trying to kick me out.”

“Well, we can thank God for small mercies,” Mr. Annesley said.

“We most certainly can,” Pastor Carrington said.

The two men lapsed into silence as the candlelight came closer to the stairwell. Charlotte watched them advance up, warmly illuminated by the light and an interesting contrast.

Mr. Annesley’s hair had more grey in it than Pastor Carrington’s — owing to the fact that he was several years older — but yet Pastor Carrington was the one labouring up the stairs on account of his back, which was still sore.

“So you did see them,” Pastor Carrington said, looking at Charlotte as he and Mr. Annesley reached the top of the stairs.

“Yes,” Charlotte replied. “How much are they bringing?”

“I’m not sure,” Pastor Carrington replied. “The bulk is foodstuffs, there’s even a couple dozen head of cattle at the rear a rancher offered to give everyone some fresh meat.”

“Oh my,” Charlotte said.

“The troopers guarding the front wagon said there’s almost fifty thousand dollars in cash donations in the front wagon,” Pastor Carrington added. “The rest is goods.”

“That means everyone in Denver gave a dollar at least,” Neil said, startling Charlotte, who hadn’t realised he’d come and joined them.

“And considering there’s significantly less people receiving the money I’m estimating we could see every family with a thousand dollars,” Pastor Carrington said.

“That would last them a long while,” Mr. Annesley said. “But I hope they’re willing to not just help Kelly’s men.”

“Why?” Neil asked.

“Yes, Kelly’s men aren’t working,” Mr. Annesley said. “So they do need the most help, but there are other miners, particularly those who work for the Silver Slopes company, who are hardly making half the wage Kelly paid his men, and those men and their families are struggling too.”

“Well, with how much was brought in the terms of foodstuffs I’m sure that there will be more than enough to stock everyone’s larder,” Neil said.

Pastor Carrington nodded.

“And I don’t see Silver Slopes handing out raises anytime soon,” Mr. Annesley said, looking sorrowful.

“Are their men here being paid what their men at Denver are?” Neil asked.

“I have no idea,” Mr. Annesley replied. “But I’ll tell you what they’re being paid is a terrible pittance a single man would be hard-pressed to thrive on.”

“A shame,” Pastor Carrington said, shaking his head.

“And when the sun comes out,” Mr. Annesley said. “The sight of Valentine Allison makes the blood of any respectable man boil. Strutting around in colourful suits like a peacock. That’s a man only God can humble.”

Involved: Day 13

Word Count: 78,060

Summary of Events:

Samuel and Mr. Annesley went to Kelly's office to see if they could get Kelly's company up and running and discovered that they couldn't make any sense of Kelly's things without Kelly there to explain them. Charlotte and her family received a letter from Violet telling about the plight of the miners in Georgetown which prompted Charlotte's father to inform his congregation, who donated over $1,100 to help. In an effort to run Kelly's company without Kelly, Samuel and Mr. Annesley went to visit Kelly and ask him how he organised things so they could get the company running while Kelly remained in jail . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Kelly looked thinner than he had before, his hair was unkempt, and he’d grown enough of a beard for his cheeks and jaw to be concealed by brown hair. He sat on his bed and looked at them with empty eyes that struck Samuel as being reminiscent of Verbena.

“Good evening Kelly,” Mr. Annesley said cordially. “Chicken, biscuits, and cheese.”

He placed the pail containing the food inside the cell and removed the pail that had contained Kelly’s breakfast. A glance inside with Mr. Annesley showed it still did.

Kelly stared at them silently and said nothing.

“We need your help Kelly,” Mr. Annesley said. “We can’t get you out yet, but we are trying. Until then, we need to know some things about how you operate your business, as your men are starting to run our of money.”

Still Kelly stared silently and sullenly. He looked as if he were barely alive and sorely hopeless.

“Your men don’t want to leave you,” Mr. Annesley said. “They feel grief themselves at Isabelle’s passing, and they understand that it has to be a terrible blow for you, but they do need to have food in their stomachs, and they would like to work, so we need you to help us get them working so that they can eat and aren’t forced to leave you out of desperation.”

Kelly lowered his gaze and still said nothing.

Mr. Annesley sighed. “We don’t know how you organised things, we can’t run your business without your help.”

Still Kelly said nothing. Samuel felt frustration rising in him.

“Say something,” Samuel swore.

“We want to help you,” Mr. Annesley said, still soft in his tone. “We want you and the girls to have money, as well as your men. We don’t want to see anyone hungry, but we need you to help us if we’re going to achieve that.”

Kelly gave a subtle shake to his head.

“What do you think Isabelle would say if she saw this?” Samuel demanded.

Immediately Kelly’s head snapped up and he looked at Samuel with an anger-edged gaze.

“Isabelle would be ashamed of you,” Samuel said lowly. “She loved you, she made a lot of sacrifices to see you succeed, and here you’re going to throw it all away?”

“I am not throwing it away!” Kelly bellowed, his voice raw. “I wouldn’t be here if I were throwing it away!”

“Then where would you be?” Samuel demanded.

“I’d be in the Silver Slopes mining office signing that offer!” Kelly shouted. “Throwing my company away to that snake for pennies on the dollar so that he can enslave good, honest, hardworking men to line his own pockets with silver, turn himself into a statue of solid silver.”

“He wanted you to sell?” Mr. Annesley asked, sounding shocked.

“I would never throw my company away,” Kelly said hoarsely, his gaze fixed on Samuel. “Never.”

Involved: Day 12

Word Count: 72,201

Summary of Events:

Oliver came to court again and got Charlotte upset when he told her that they had things to discuss before they got married, but refused to tell her what they were, other than that they were important to him. No longer responsible for keeping an eye on Kelly at all hours because of Kelly's incarceration, Samuel was dedicating his time to finding a way to get at Mr. Allison without the sheriff nearby when Mr. Annesley called him into the General Store to talk . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“I know all my customers well, as one ought to in a town of this size,” Mr. Annesley said. “And I know what a lot of them usually purchase. Last week I had a couple women come in and ask for only half of what they usually did because they couldn’t afford any more than that. I refused because it’s food, they need it to survive, and so I started this credit ledger. In it I’ve recorded every single time I’ve given someone something without being paid for it since last week. I would merely have absorbed the loss normally, but many of the customers have insisted that they’ll pay me back as soon as they have money, so I’m keeping a record so that they can do so.”

Mr. Annesley flipped through several pages filled with writing.

“In hardly more than a week I’ve filled nearly a dozen pages with hundreds of dollars in foodstuffs,” Mr. Annesley continued. “These people have no money, and no means to get any.”

“And I’m supposed to care because . . . ?” Samuel asked.

“The men of these households work for Kelly,” Mr. Annesley replied. “With Kelly not operating his business, at first because of bereavement and now because of incarceration, the men of these households have no work, no income, and they’ve run out of money.”

“I’m still not entirely following,” Samuel said.

“This is a mining town,” Mr. Annesley replied. “At least three quarters of the men in this town work in one silver mine or another, and no less than half of those men, or three eighths of the whole population of this town, work for Kelly. Because he’s not operating his company they have no income, and they have nowhere else to find work because there’s nothing else available. And even if they did, they’d ruin Kelly then because he’d have no workers when his company is able to resume operations.”

“And so this is my responsibility because I’m his brother-in-law and, as it happens, geographically nearest to him,” Samuel asked flatly.

“To put it simply, yes,” Mr. Annesley replied.

“But I know nothing about mining other than that it kills people,” Samuel replied. “I can’t help them.”
“I’ve been thinking about it during my slower parts of the day, such as now,” Mr. Annesley replied. “And I think I’ve come up with an idea of what we can do.”

“It’s a good idea already,” Samuel said.

“Why?” Mr. Annesley asked, looking surprised.

“It’s ‘we’, not just me,” Samuel replied.

“Oh,” Mr. Annesley said. “Well anyways, my idea is that we go to Kelly’s mine office and see if we can’t get the company going again. I’d help because I know how to run a business, which I don’t get the impression you’ve ever done before, and you would occupy the office and keep track of things there and then the men would be able to work.”

Involved: Day 11

Word Count: 66,166

Summary of Events:

Charlotte's father read the letter Violet had written to the whole family — as well as a letter that had been received from Charlotte's older brother who lived in Oregon — after supper, which had some information Violet's letter to Charlotte hadn't; following the reading Charlotte went to write Violet in return. Kelly had agreed to meet Mr. Allison at his office, so Samuel ensured Kelly got there on time and was disappointed he wasn't allowed to sit in on the meeting, seeing how Kelly wasn't sober, but he didn't argue, as the sheriff was standing guard to keep him from getting in . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“Must be nice to live on the dole of a man with bottomless pockets,” Samuel quipped.

“Must be nice to be seven feet tall,” the sheriff replied.

“I’m not that tall,” Samuel said. “Even if I am tall.”

“You look like it from here,” the sheriff said.

“I’m about nine inches shy of seven feet,” Samuel said. “And what are you, nine inches shy of six feet?”

“I’m five foot eight,” the sheriff replied.

“So I’ve got seven inches on you,” Samuel said. “I don’t think I’ve known a man who’s been that much shorter than me. Boys yes, but not men.”

The sheriff glared at him.

“No wonder you’ve forsaken law and order for thuggery,” Samuel said. “If you can’t intimidate them, be one of them.”

“This isn’t thuggery, this is protecting innocent, decent men from harm,” the sheriff snapped.

“Is it now?” Samuel asked. “How about protecting all innocent, decent citizens from harm, not just one man?”

“Because you know how to be a lawman better than I do when I’m the one with the badge,” the sheriff snapped.

“I’ve seen plenty of other men with badges, and it’s purely a comparison of conduct,” Samuel replied. “Every other badge-bearing man I’ve met has been committed to protecting everyone under his watch, not just the ones who line his pockets with money, that suggests to me that there’s a little something amiss around here.”

“Hm,” the sheriff said indignantly. “As if that matters when you haven’t–”

A bellowing roar came from inside; Samuel knew it was Kelly from having heard it before. The sheriff snapped his gaze toward the door at the sound of it.

“Homer help me!” was cried out soon afterward, and Samuel knew that the pathetic and cowardly plea had come from Mr. Allison.

The sheriff hurried inside, Samuel followed hot on his heels, passing through a large open room and then through a door that had a frosted glass window into what would’ve been an opulent office, if not for the fact that the floor was strewn with the contents of the desktop, as well as the fragments of what appeared to be two chairs, as Samuel saw two padded seats on the floor.

Kelly’s face was red with rage and effort as he had his hands hooked under the edge of the desktop and was trying to overturn the hulking piece.

Before Samuel could reach Kelly the sheriff clasped a cuff about one of Kelly’s wrists, pulled both his hands around behind his back, and closed the other cuff about Kelly’s other wrist, leaving his arms restrained behind his back.

Savagely Kelly roared at the sheriff.

“Mr. Kelly Gillard, you are under arrest for the unlawful destruction of property, disturbance of the peace, and attempted murder,” the sheriff declared.

Samuel swore.

“Excuse me?” the sheriff asked.

“Kelly didn’t attempt to murder him,” Samuel snapped. “There is nothing about this that you can call attempted murder.”

“Care to join him?” the sheriff threatened, brandishing his gun again.

Samuel kept his mouth shut, but seethed inwardly.

Involved: Day 10

Word Count: 60,052

Summary of Events:

Samuel was grateful when he woke up to find Verbena hadn't wet the bed, he then left her to keep sleeping and went downstairs to make the only breakfast he knew, oatmeal porridge; the girls were reticent, but ate as much as their stomachs could take, while Kelly got furious that Samuel had neglected to make coffee and threw his porridge in Samuel's face. Charlotte ran some errands for her mother, which included a stop at the post office, where she was delighted to find a letter had come from Violet. Samuel, having confiscated most of Kelly's money for safekeeping, sat with Kelly at the saloon until the little money he'd left Kelly ran out, Kelly then headed home of his own volition — to look for more money — and Samuel followed him casually . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

As Kelly continued on homeward, Samuel turned off to the Annesley home and knocked at the door.

The door was opened after a moment, but not by Mrs. Annesley — or Ella; instead it was opened by a beautiful young woman with alluring blue eyes, golden blonde hair held back neatly, and an appealing figure.

“May I help you sir?” she asked.

“I’ve come to get Ella and Verbena,” Samuel replied uncertainly.

“Oh, then I guess you should come in,” she said. “They’re helping Theodora and I make some cinnamon rolls.”

Samuel nodded, the tantalising smell of the sweet confection already prompting his tongue to start swimming in saliva.

He followed the lovely young woman inside and all the way back to the kitchen where he found Ella in a small apron with flour dusted all over her standing on a chair along the kitchen worktable while Verbena sat quietly on the table itself, watching as Mrs. Annesley expertly sliced the long roll of dough into approximately uniform lengths, which the young woman took and stood on end on the waiting pan.

“We’re making cinnamon rolls Uncle SJ!” Ella cried delightedly.

“I know, I was told,” Samuel replied.

“Mrs. Violet told you?” Ella asked.

Samuel nodded, looking over at the young woman with a twinge of disappointment on the heels of his niece’s comment. Mrs. Violet? She was married?

As he watched her hands move he saw that Ella’s statement was true: a slim gold wedding band wrapped around the young woman’s left ring finger. She was taken already.

“Hello,” Mrs. Annesley said. “Would you like to stay to dinner?”

“We wouldn’t want to impose,” Samuel said.

“It wouldn’t be imposition at all,” Mrs. Annesley replied. “There will easily be enough for everyone.”

“Can’t we please Uncle SJ?” Ella asked.

“Well, Kelly’s already at home so, no,” Samuel replied.

Ella looked downcast, and Verbena’s big blue eyes looked ready to shed some tears.

“Maybe–”

Loud, heavy knocking at the door cut Samuel off. Mrs. Annesley dusted her hands on her apron and headed out of the kitchen. Samuel followed her out of the room and watched as she advanced to the door and opened it.

Dishevelled and honestly weary-looking, Kelly stood in the doorway.

“Do you have a couple dollars I could borrow Mrs. Annesley?” Kelly asked, his voice slightly slurred.

“No,” Mrs. Annesley replied. “But I do have a large beef roast in the oven and I’ll be boiling up the potatoes right away. Your girls and I are presently making cinnamon rolls.”

Kelly made salivary sounds, suggesting the offer of food tantalised him.

“If you’d like you can stay to dinner,” Mrs. Annesley offered.

“I think I will,” Kelly said, nodding.

“Well then come in,” Mrs. Annesley said. “It will be some time yet, Watson’s not yet closed the store, but I’m sure you can enjoy the company of your brother-in-law.”

Samuel sighed, disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to get to know this Mrs. Violet any more.

Involved: Day 9

Word Count: 54,008

Summary of Events:

Charlotte's father explained some of his concerns about Charlotte's readiness to be married more thoroughly, encouraging Charlotte to engage in a Bible study with Oliver as a way to help them both be more ready. Samuel put Ella and Verbena to bed after having ensured Kelly was falling asleep, then settled himself in one of the other bedrooms but hadn't slept too long before he was woken by what sounded like footsteps on the main floor of the house . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Suddenly a sniff close at hand startled Samuel. He released his gun and turned to see Verbena, he could tell even in the darkness that tears were on her cheeks, he could hear the tremulous breathing.

“What is it Verbena?” Samuel asked.

Verbena merely sniffled like she was going to sob.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Samuel asked.

It looked like Verbena nodded.

“Can’t you talk to Ella about it?” Samuel asked.

Verbena whimpered.

“Or is Ella sleeping?” Samuel asked.

Again it looked like Verbena nodded.

Sighing, Samuel turned over and lifted his blankets off so he could sit up. “Let’s go put you back in bed.”

Verbena uttered what sounded like a cry of protest.

When Samuel’s siblings had been Verbena’s age wetting the bed had been a more frequent occurrence than Samuel had been able to appreciate, and he had no intentions of suffering through it as a grown man.

Collecting Verbena up into his arms, Samuel carried her back to the room she shared with Ella and went to put her down on the bed, but Verbena wrapped her arms around his neck and whimpered repeatedly.

“Verbena, come on, let go, you need to go to bed,” Samuel whispered.

Verbena’s chin slid across Samuel’s shoulder in a way that revealed she was shaking her head in the negative. She had no intentions of going back into her bed.

“It’s nighttime, you need to sleep,” Samuel said. “Come on. Ella’s right beside you, it’ll be fine.”

Still Verbena resisted, her grip around Samuel’s neck as difficult to release as a donkey’s jaw when it decided to bite something; Samuel had never been bitten by a donkey, but he’d seen plenty of unwitting men and dogs who had been, and those donkeys didn’t let go, they hung on for all they were worth.

“I wish I knew your middle name,” Samuel muttered.

Verbena clung tightly to him.

Frustrated, Samuel sighed and carried Verbena back to his room. As soon as he did so Verbena loosened her hold, but she didn’t release it.

“We’re not making a habit out of this I hope,” Samuel said. “Also, if you dare wet this bed you’re not coming in it again.”

He sat down on the bed and Verbena let go, leaning her head against his chest; her tears were wet while her hair was soft against his skin.

Lifting Verbena off his lap, Samuel set her down on the far side of the tick, then settled himself down on the other side of the tick, and drew the blanket over both of them.

It was, unfortunately, only a matter of moments before Verbena squirmed her way across the bed and bundled herself close against his chest, using his upper arm as a pillow while her nose released warm air onto his chest and he felt one of her little hands against his ribs. He wasn’t used to this.

Involved: Day 8

Word Count: 48,102

Summary of Events:

After having Kelly escape Samuel's efforts to keep him out of the saloon Samuel encountered one of the miners who worked for Kelly, but hadn't been working because Kelly wasn't going to his office; the miner promised to get some of his fellows to help Samuel keep Kelly from drinking. Charlotte struggled to adjust to the idea of having to wait about two weeks for a letter from Violet when she'd always been able to talk to Violet whenever she wanted. Samuel went to Mr. Annesley's store to buy some things and was informed by Mr. Annesley that Kelly was getting into rages that were frightening his daughters terribly . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“Ella and Verbena have taken to hiding under beds and in closets for their safety,” Mr. Annesley replied. “But that wouldn’t keep them safe if he succeeds in setting the house on fire.”

“You mean he’s attempted to?” Samuel asked.

“Yes,” Mr. Annesley replied. “As if his daughters weren’t traumatised enough by the train crash now they need to grapple with the fact that their father has become a strange and uncontrollable monster.”

“So why do I need to know this?” Samuel asked.

Mr. Annesley gave him a look that made it clear Mr. Annesley thought Samuel should know the answer to his own question.

“You’re family . . . Mr. Spady,” Mr. Annesley replied, having paused to glance past Samuel before speaking his alias. “The only family that had the inclination to come out for the funeral. Theodora wrote all of them she could find a fixed address for and you’re the only one who came. Considering your sister had just gone to see them all for a wedding I, for one, am rather appalled that only you came.”

“I know nothing about dealing with children,” Samuel replied.

“That doesn’t matter,” Mr. Annesley said firmly. “You are their blood relation, therefore it is your duty to assure their welfare.”

Samuel sighed wearily.

“It’s not like it won’t save you money to stay there instead of the hotel,” Mr. Annesley said. “It’s bad enough Kelly’s out to kill himself, he doesn’t need to take his daughters with him.”

“How much do I owe you for that?” Samuel asked, nodding toward the pouch Mr. Annesley still held.

Mr. Annesley named the price and Samuel produced the money, which Mr. Annesley took, although he didn’t give Samuel his pouch back until the money was in the cashbox.

“I do not hold you in the wrong for enlisting help keeping Kelly out of the saloon, you need all the help you can get there,” Mr. Annesley said. “However, it is no one’s responsibility more than yours to see to the welfare of your nieces. You cannot delegate that task, for at least a portion of their lifeblood is the same as yours.”

“Your wife has nothing else to do,” Samuel replied.

“Surely you have not forgotten how much work your own mother did at home in a day,” Mr. Annesley replied.

“Your wife has no children remaining at home to mind,” Samuel spat, inflamed at Mr. Annesley’s presumption that he even had memories of Ma. “Surely you don’t cause her that much labour.”

“She has no duty binding her to the girls,” Mr. Annesley replied. “As Christians we would offer charity, but not if it allows family to abdicate their duties.”

Samuel clenched his jaw.

Mr. Annesley sighed. “If you didn’t want to have this duty then why did you come, and why do you remain?”

“To defend the honour of my sister,” Samuel replied through his teeth.

“Then defend her glory also,” Mr. Annesley said.

Involved: Day 7

Word Count: 42,013

Summary of Events:

Samuel was enlisted to get Kelly out of the saloon and ended up meeting a man named Valentine Allison, who mocked Kelly, as well as slandered Isabelle; Samuel was prevented from beating Mr. Allison to a pulp by the sheriff. Ira and Violet were forced to reassess what they would be taking to Georgetown with them when the wheel on the large wagon they were going to borrow broke, leaving them only with Ira's small wagon. Samuel tried to find Mr. Allison to get revenge for his slander of Isabelle, but was again prevented from acting by the sheriff. Charlotte watched Ira and Violet's wedding with many tears, distraught to think her sister was getting married and she wasn't . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Pastor Carrington released the pulpit and raised his hands, palms up, an indicator for everyone to stand, which everyone did. Charlotte felt unsteady and grabbed Neil’s arm. Neil reached over and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Just forward of the front pew Father and Violet stopped. Violet looked so beautiful in her dress and Charlotte could see that Ira was in awe of just how spectacular his bride was.

“Who gives this woman?” Pastor Carrington asked.

“Her mother and I,” Father replied.

Ira stepped forward and so did Father and Violet, Charlotte nearly wailed as she watched Violet’s hand be placed into Ira’s before Father turned away toward the front pew.

He sat down in the space waiting for him beside Mother while Ira led Violet toward Pastor Carrington, who silently indicated for everyone to be seated.

Charlotte was grateful to be no longer standing and released Neil’s arm. She couldn’t find her handkerchief to dab her eyes with and struggled to use her sleeve cuffs to catch the tears as Pastor Carrington started into the wedding message.

Neil’s arm touched Charlotte in an intentional way and Charlotte turned to see him holding a handkerchief for her.

Grateful, Charlotte took it and dabbed at her eyes furiously, fixing her gaze on Ira’s friend — who was already married and whose wife had recently given birth to a little boy — not wanting to see sympathetic looks from her friend, or Violet holding hands with Ira, listening intently to Pastor Carrington’s message.

Once the message was finished Violet and Ira turned to face each other for the vows and exchanging of rings. . . .

Ira and Violet then turned to each other and kissed while the congregation applauded and Charlotte had to do everything in her power not to cry out in devastation that she was unable to be standing with Oliver beside them being pronounced as Mrs. Charlotte Seland.

Violet and Ira, followed by their attendants, made their way out of the sanctuary, followed by family, and then everyone else started to file out, with many giving congratulations to the couple at the door.

Charlotte kept her face hidden and was gratefully escorted out by Neil, but soon she was left alone while Neil went over to Belva. Oliver came over to her before too long and looked at her with a sorrowful expression.

“Oh Charlotte please don’t cry so,” he said. “Violet is happy, and you should be too.”

“But I’m not,” Charlotte sobbed.

“Then what can we do to get you there?” Oliver asked.

“You can ask me to marry you,” Charlotte replied.

“I don’t have a ring,” Oliver replied. “And I’m sure your father would want to give his approval to the union.”
Charlotte turned away from him, dabbing at her eyes with the handkerchief.

“I would make you happy,” Oliver said. “But I can’t without a ring.”

Shaking her head, Charlotte continued to dab at her eyes.

“Oh Charlotte,” Oliver sighed.

She heard his footsteps as he came around her and wrapped her in an embrace so her head was against his chest. With sufficient muting in place, Charlotte sobbed aloud while Oliver held her close.

Involved: Day 6

Word Count: 36,002

Summary of Events:

Samuel attended the funeral of his sister, niece, and nephews, but didn't sit with the family; instead he sat off by himself and when the bodies were put into the graves he went back to his hotel room and cried. Charlotte watched as Violet and their mother prepared the last things on the wedding dress before being told Oliver had come to court her; they talked of the women in the church — who'd been harping on Oliver too — and Oliver went so far as to question whether one of the women who'd spoken sharply to him was even a Christian at all . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Charlotte gave a nod, but said nothing, feeling a little bit puzzled by Oliver’s comments; she was sure that he had been a Christian longer than she had, but long enough to speak in what she considered such an authoritative fashion? That she wasn’t sure about.

“But we’re not here to discuss the salvation of others,” Oliver said. “We’re here to . . . to talk.”

It certainly seemed like Oliver had faltered, but why?

“Are we talking about anything specific?” Charlotte asked.

“Yes,” Oliver replied, seeming declarative.

“And what are we talking about?” Charlotte asked.

Oliver opened his mouth to speak, then closed it; he looked unsure — even distraught — before finally turning to her with a rather normal expression on his face and replying: “Whatever you want.”

“Oh,” Charlotte said. “Well, I don’t know what I would like to talk about.”

“Is everything ready for Saturday?” Oliver asked.

“Yes,” Charlotte replied. “Mother and Violet will be hemming the dress tonight, maybe a bit tomorrow if necessary, and then all that’s left is to decorate the church on Friday, and the packing.”

“They’ve packed everything in advance?” Oliver asked.

Charlotte nodded; she felt like her composure was starting to fail her. “Shortly here they’re planning on packing everything into our wagon, which they’re borrowing, just to be sure it will all fit.”

“That’s a very wise idea,” Oliver said. “Then if something doesn’t fit they can either sell it or arrange for it to be stored somewhere — probably here, I’d imagine — until they’re ready for it.”

“I think that’s the idea,” Charlotte replied. “They don’t really have all that much, though, and they’ve not been given a lot, I don’t think.”

“And they have a house in Georgetown?” Oliver asked.

“It comes with the livery,” Charlotte replied. “I think it’s either above the stables or attached at the rear.”

“At least you don’t get cold having to go check on the horses,” Oliver said. “That could be very valuable in the wintertime.”

Charlotte nodded.

“Is any furniture being included?” Oliver asked.

“I don’t know,” Charlotte replied. “Ira went last week to give the man the first payment, but I didn’t hear any reports on what all he’s getting for his money.”

“Any news on if Neil has become Belva’s betrothed?” Oliver asked.

“No,” Charlotte replied. “I don’t think he will until after . . . after the wedding.”

“It won’t be as bad as you fear Charlotte,” Oliver soothed, placing his arm around her shoulders. “It won’t be easy, but it won’t be bad either, I promise.”

Tears started to gather in Charlotte’s eyes. She fished out her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. Oliver leaned his head gently against hers.

“Don’t cry Charlotte,” Oliver said. “I can assure you things won’t be as bad as you fear, you’ll survive without Violet, but you won’t forget her. It isn’t as if she’s dying, she’s just moving a little ways away, and not even that far in comparison to your other sisters.”

Involved: Day 5

Word Count: 30,077

Summary of Events:

Charlotte, prompted by her chat with Violet, went to their father and expressed her upset that the women of the church seemed intent to pressure her into marriage, which her father decided would be, in a way, the topic of his next sermon. Samuel watched the procession of hearses bearing the bodies of his sister, niece, and nephews arrive before crying himself to sleep; when he woke up he went to the funeral parlour and looked at the bodies, breaking down again at the sight of his lifeless sister . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

When he felt a light little touch on his arm he startled violently and turned to see a girl smaller than lifeless Orlena, but fully alive, with large blue eyes and rich brown hair — coffee auburn was what Isabelle had always called it — that was held back in a braid.

She looked at him a little warily, her big eyes reddened at the edges and glistening like new marbles, but didn’t show any hesitation when she reached forward and clutched the sleeve that covered his forearm.

“Are you Uncle SJ?” she asked quietly, the subtlest of tremors to her voice.

Cautiously Samuel slid his gaze toward the people; he felt a little shocked when he saw there was no longer a cluster of people, there was just Kelly, an arm in a sling, the protruding hand bandaged, unabashedly weeping, and a girl half the enquiring one’s size, her hair in two braids, looking at him with seemingly larger, warier eyes that were also red-rimmed, the glistening trails still showing over her slightly chubby little cheeks.

Samuel looked down again; there was no doubt these two little girls were his last remaining nieces, Ella and Verbena.

Ella looked at him earnestly. “Are you Uncle SJ?”

“Yes,” Samuel replied quietly.

He startled when Ella wrapped her arms about his waist and squeezed tightly. He’d met her once, and she’d probably been about as old as little Verbena sitting and silently crying beside their devastated father.

After far longer than Samuel appreciated Ella released her hold and looked up at him with an expression that seemed awfully happy for a little girl whose family had just been eviscerated by a deadly train crash.

“Mama would be happy,” Ella said quietly. “She wanted to visit you again after the baby came. She said she’d visited you once when I was little, but I don’t remember it.”

“Then how do you know who I am?” Samuel asked, feeling a little defensive.

“Mama showed us your picture,” Ella replied.

Samuel shouldn’t have been surprised that Isabelle would talk about him so much, considering how close they’d been, he might’ve done the same to his children except that he had none — which was just how he wanted it.

Still, probably the last picture he’d ever had taken of himself was when he’d last gone home, which had been shortly after Phyllis had gotten married — nearly ten years ago now — and had insisted that everyone have their portrait taken by her father-in-law, who was a photographer; Samuel had been hardly more than twenty then, surely he’d changed in ten years.

“Are you going to stay at our house Uncle SJ?” Ella asked, looking eager.

“No,” Samuel replied. “I’ve got another place to stay.”

Ella looked crestfallen, but Samuel didn’t pity her; did she really think he’d want to sleep in the same house his sister had made a home when she would no longer be there to maintain it and breathe life into it?

Involved: Day 4

Word Count: 24,006

Summary of Events:

Charlotte did some tasks around the house with her younger sister, Nora, while Violet and their mother were out running errands; once the errands were over Charlotte and Violet sat down and chatted, which Charlotte found very helpful — as she always felt talking with Violet was. Samuel arrived in Georgetown and was directed to the Annesley home, where he learned — to his horror — that Isabelle herself had divulged his name to Mrs. Annesley, whom he also learned was actually mentioned by Isabelle in her letters, and quite prominently . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Samuel felt shocked — and rather annoyed — surely Mrs. Annesley could’ve told him in her letter that she was Anne. Anne was the one name that came up the most often out of all the names Isabelle had written, and often it’d been prefaced by ‘dear’.

“You could’ve told me when you wrote me,” Samuel spat.

“I didn’t even think of it, I’m sorry Mr. Manning,” Mrs. Annesley said.

“It’s Mr. Spady to you,” Samuel hissed.

“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Annesley said.

“As much as there was an oversight on the part of my wife, I don’t think that justifies your brandishing of a cocked gun in her face,” Mr. Annesley said.

“He’s grieving Watson, don’t forget that,” Mrs. Annesley said. “Judgement can be very poor when grief is involved.”

“Who else knows my name?” Samuel demanded.

“I don’t think anyone does,” Mr. Annesley replied.

“Isabelle told it to us in confidence,” Mrs. Annesley replied. “She said that she had to call you by your real name, but that we weren’t supposed to refer to you by name to anyone.”

“Not that we were ever told why,” Mr. Annesley quipped.

“You don’t need to know,” Samuel replied hotly.

“Isabelle said you weren’t a criminal, don’t worry,” Mrs. Annesley said, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “She just said you were a soul in need of prayer.”

If Samuel had possessed the hackles a dog did they would’ve flashed upward for an instant. That was the only thing that made him angry about Isabelle: she believed in God and thought he needed to too, which he didn’t. Usually she didn’t bring it up with him — which he appreciated — but even the use of religious terminology upset him, particularly when he was in any way involved in the sentence.

“Our sincerest condolences on your loss,” Mr. Annesley said. “And our regrets about not communicating who we were sooner.”

“Yes,” Mrs. Annesley said, nodding, tears suddenly rolling down her cheeks.

“Come Theodora,” Mr. Annesley said.

Mrs. Annesley walked over to Mr. Annesley and they embraced, with Mrs. Annesley immediately bursting into sobs that were muffled by her husbands clothes and flesh.

Samuel looked at Mr. Annesley, feeling a measure of consternation.

“The day after she posted her letter to you she got one from a friend of ours who went down to Kansas because she’d had family on the train too — they weren’t as close to the point of impact and survived with only injuries — informing us that Percy died,” Mr. Annesley replied soberly. “And on Monday we got word that little Kelly succumbed as well.”

“And Blaine was Friday,” Mrs. Annesley said, her voice choked with emotion, before burying it back into her husband’s chest.

Despite having never met Blaine or Percy, Samuel felt like he’d just had a full feed sack thrown at his abdomen. He didn’t have a single nephew left. Kelly had no son to inherit his company after him.