11

Kate had just finished clearing the supper dishes when she heard a sound on the front porch. Drying her hands on her apron, she rushed to open the door and gasped.

The light from the parlor cast a faint yellow glow onto the dark porch, revealing a most startling sight. “Frank!” She squinted for a better look. “Is that you? And what are you doing with that—?”

“Yes, it’s me.” Frank sounded as miserable as he looked. “Who did you think it was?” Battling to hold on to the squirming animal in his arms, he did a fancy two-step. “Where can I put this thing?” The thing he referred to was a goat. A squirming, bleating goat.

Kate stared at him in bewilderment. Frank stayed away from animals. Far, far away. “Whose goat is that?”

“It belongs to…a friend of a friend. It’s…hurt. I—”

Aunt Letty rushed out of the kitchen and squeezed in the doorway next to Kate. “Well, don’t bring it in here.”

“Take it to the barn.” Kate reached for a lantern and lit it before following Frank outside. The goat’s bleats set off a chorus of barking dogs from the other side of the fence.

Inside the barn, Kate hung the lantern on a nail and then pointed to a pile of clean straw. “Set her down there.”

Frank did as he was told and quickly backed away. Kate dropped to her knees by the animal’s side, talking softly. “There now. What’s the problem, hmm?”

“She’s limping,” Frank called from the open door. He sounded like he had a mouth full of pebbles. “Ah-choo!”

Kate glanced his way. The flickering lantern light revealed a face covered in hives, and one eye was nearly swollen shut. “Oh, Frank!” she gasped. It seemed like every time he had an attack lately, it was worse than the one before it. “Your poor face. I can’t believe you put yourself through this to save an animal.”

He dabbed his runny nose with a handkerchief. “I’ll be okay,” he said and sneezed again. “My misery is a small price to pay. I knew that the only way to…to…save this p-poor animal was to bring it to the best”—he stopped to sneeze—“b-best nurse in town.”

Kate gaped at him. Poor animal? Best nurse in town? Not only did he not look like himself, but he didn’t even sound like himself. Never before had he shown interest in her animal-healing skills. He’d even made her promise not to bring any creatures to his apartment. Now, in spite of everything, she felt a softening in her chest. He really was trying…

“You better go back to the house,” she said. “Aunt Letty will take care of you.”

After he’d left, Kate turned her attention back to the goat. The problem seemed to be the left rear leg. She cleaned out the hoof and thoroughly examined it. It had been recently trimmed, and there was no sign of hoof rot.

She worked her fingers up the leg. It didn’t appear to be broken and there was no real swelling, but the knee joint felt warm. The goat flinched at her touch and tried to bolt, but Kate held on until the animal had settled down.

Since no visible wounds or bug bites existed, she gently applied a splint and placed the goat in an empty horse stall to limit its movements. After setting out oats and filling the trough with water, she headed back to the house.

She found Frank sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. His face was still swollen, and the strong smell of vinegar filled the room. It was Aunt Letty’s cure for everything.

“I think it’s only a sprain,” Kate said, washing her hands in the basin of water kept handy next to the sink.

“I’ll leave you two young’uns alone,” Aunt Letty said with a meaningful glance at Kate. She reached for a bookmarked dime novel with an amorous couple on the cover and shuffled from the kitchen.

Kate dried her hands and sat across from Frank. He looked so miserable that her heart went out to him. “That was a very kind thing you did,” she said.

He shrugged as if to say it was nothing. “I figured that the…the Clara Barton of the animal kingdom would…would know what to do.”

“Clara Barton?” Kate blinked to make sure it really was Frank sitting in the room with her. “Are you feeling all right?”

“I am now.” He gingerly touched his face with his fingertips. “I think the swelling has gone down.”

“That’s good,” she said, though she saw little if any improvement. He still sounded as if he had a mouthful of pebbles. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. In the past, they had enjoyed an easy rapport, which made their current silence seem awkward and uncomfortable. It was as if she sat across the table from a stranger.

“The flowers… They’re beautiful,” she said to break the tension. “They’re still on display in the shop.”

“They’re not dead yet?” he asked.

“No…they’re still beautiful.”

He sniffled and wiped his nose. “T-that’s good.”

“And the note… It meant a lot.”

He raised his eyebrows. “It did?” He looked and sounded surprised. “I didn’t think you liked all that mushy stuff.”

“I didn’t think it was mushy at all. The flowers…the card…that was the nicest gift you’ve ever given me.”

He frowned. “What about the eggbeater?”

“Oh, I liked that just fine.”

“And the bellows?”

“Most useful.” Kate moistened her lips. “What I meant to say is that the basket of flowers is the nicest gift you’ve given me when it wasn’t my birthday or Christmas.”

Frank tried to smile, but his still-swollen face wouldn’t let him. Instead, his lips spread in a lopsided grimace. “Glad you liked them. I know how fond you are of blue.”

“You do? I didn’t think you paid attention to such things.”

“’Course I do. Just because I don’t talk about them doesn’t mean I don’t pay attention.” When she made no reply, another awkward silence stretched across the table.

Finally, he cleared his voice. “I better be going,” he said, rising.

She stood too. “I’ll drive you home. I don’t want you walking in your condition.”

“No, that’s okay.”

“Are you sure? It’ll only take me a couple of minutes to hitch up the wagon.”

Frank shook his head. “Your horse will make this worse.”

“Maybe if you put a towel over your head or—” She tried to think.

“I…I’d rather not risk it. Besides, the walk will do me good. Nothing like fresh air to cure what ails you.”

Kate followed him to the door. “You better leave the goat here overnight. I’ll check on her later.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

“You never did tell me whose goat it is,” she said.

He looked momentarily confused. “Like I said, it belongs to a friend of a friend. Don’t know his name. I’ll have someone stop by and pick her up tomorrow, if that’s okay. While you’re at the shop.”

“I’ll be glad to deliver her,” Kate said.

Frank shook his head. “My friend’s…uh…friend…likes to handle these things himself.”

She frowned but said nothing. The hives were sure making Frank act strange. Sound strange too.

He hemmed and hawed and scraped the toe of his boot across the carpet. He then had a sneezing fit. By the time he was through, his face had turned a bright scarlet.

She stared at him in alarm. “Are you all right?”

“I will be. Soon’s the swelling goes down.” His Adam’s apple quivered. “Eh…about the spring dance…” He cleared his voice before continuing. “I was kind of wondering if, you know…you and I…could…you know…go to the dance together.”

Kate hesitated, not sure what to say. “Well, I…”

“For old times’ sake,” he added quickly. When she didn’t respond, he pursed his lips. “Unless you’re going with someone else.” It was impossible to miss the sharp edge of his voice. For a split second, it seemed as if the old Frank was back, but then he quickly added, “I’ll understand if you are.”

Her eyes widened. Had she heard right? He’d understand if she went with someone else? “I didn’t plan on attending this year, but…” She drew in her breath. The poor man looked and sounded utterly miserable. Though she suspected the goat was more at fault for Frank’s misery than she was, she still didn’t have the heart to turn him down.

“I’d be honored to go to the dance with you, Frank,” she said, and because she didn’t want him to think that all was forgiven and forgotten, she added, “For old times’ sake.”

He took her hand in his and shook it like a thirsty man priming a pump. “Whew! That’s the best news ever. He sure does know his stuff.”

She pulled her hand away and rubbed her shoulder. “Who?”

“What?”

“You said he knows his stuff.”

He looked startled. “You! You know your stuff. The…the way you took care of the goat, I mean.”

“We’ll know better about that in a day or two,” she said.

Holding his handkerchief over his nose and mouth, he opened the door and stepped outside. “Night, Kate.”

“Good night.” She watched until he vanished into the folds of darkness before shutting the door with a puzzled frown.

First, he’d sent her a basket of flowers and poetic note. Then he’d appeared on her doorstep with an injured goat and said he’d understand if she went to the dance with someone else.

Frank sure hadn’t acted like himself. But if he wasn’t acting himself, then who was he?

* * *

On Thursday, just as Brett was leaving the sheriff’s office, the Butterfield stagecoach came a-skally-hooting into town and pulled up in front with a flurry of dust. The guard riding shotgun jumped to the ground and yelled, “We been robbed!”

The announcement brought the sheriff and his deputy on the run. While the guard and driver gave their reports to the sheriff, Brett cornered the only passenger, a matronly spinster by the name of Miss Dubois. The indignant lady stepped out of the coach and shook her parasol like a chicken shaking out its feathers.

Brett introduced himself. “Wonder if you’d mind answering a few questions, ma’am?” he asked.

Reaching for the gold lorgnette hanging around her neck on a black beaded chain, she lifted it to her eyes and looked him up and down as if trying to decide if he was worthy of her time.

Apparently, he passed her scrutiny, because the probing look left her face. “I’d be happy to answer your questions, but like the driver said, we were robbed. Took my jewelry and money.”

“Could you tell me how many there were?”

“A ring, a necklace, and nearly four dollars in cash.”

“I meant robbers. How many robbers were there, and can you describe them for me?”

“There were three of them,” Miss Dubois said. “One was about your height. The other two were a few inches shorter. They were dressed in black and wore flour sacks over their heads with holes cut out for eyes.”

No question. The Ghost Riders had struck yet again. “What about their eyes? Did you notice anything? Color?”

“Oh dear.” She thought for a moment. “I’m afraid not.”

“Did any of them speak?”

“Just the one.”

Brett’s gaze sharpened. “Do you remember what he said? What he sounded like?”

“His voice was gruff.” She thought for a moment. “Muffled. He told me to take off my ring.” She shuddered at the memory.

“I’m sorry to bother you with these questions, but anything you can tell me will be a great help.”

She lowered her lorgnette. “Would it recover my belongings?”

“It might. I can’t promise. Is there anything else you remember about the three men?”

“Hmm. Let me think. It all happened so quickly.”

Brett reached into his vest pocket for the photograph of Frank Foster One. He covered the lower part of the face with his hand so that only the eyes showed. “Is it possible that this is one of the men who robbed you?”

Her gaze dropped to the photograph. “I don’t know. It’s hard to say. As I told you, their heads were covered.”

Brett slipped the photograph back into his pocket. Her answer wasn’t any more than what he’d come to expect, but it was still a disappointment. “Anything else you can tell me?”

Her hand fluttered to her chest. “No, it all happened so quickly.” She paused for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right, ma’am. I understand. I’m sure the sheriff will want to talk to you before you leave. He’ll also want a list of stolen items.”

“Yes, of course.” She started toward the door of the sheriff’s office and stopped. “Peppermint,” she said.

“I’m sorry, ma’am? Did you say something?”

She turned to face him. “The man who took my ring…”

“What about him?” Brett asked.

“When he spoke, I could have sworn I caught a whiff of peppermint candy.”