CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
At the Forsyth relay station, the morning El Paso stage rumbled into the yard right on time. Pervious Findel was the driver, a happy, red-haired man known for singing while he drove. Most said he sang well. A former Union artillery captain during the war, Pervious was dependable and always on time, or ahead of it. Just like today.
“A tear was in her eye . . .
I said, I’ve come from Dixie land . . .
Susanna, don’t you break down and cry . . .
I said, Oh, Susanna . . .
Now, don’t you cry for me . . .
’Cause I come from Alabama
with my banjo on my knee.”
He timed the ending of his song as he reined up in the station yard.
Billy Lee Montez and Hermann Beinrigt hurried out with a new team. Helping them was a determined Benjamin.
“All out, folks. Some good eatin’s here. Hot coffee too,” Pervious hollered as he slammed on the heavy brake. “We’ll be rollin’ again in fifteen minutes so don’t you all dally.”
Passengers emerged from both sides of the coach, stretched, and headed for the station. At the doorway, Atlee Forsyth waited to greet them. The last two passengers to emerge were familiar: James Hannah and Rebecca Tuttle.
The bespectacled gunman recognized Billy and Hermann and reintroduced himself. “Good day to you, men. I’m James Hannah. Came through here with Deed Corrigan a while back.” He looked at the German farmer, smiled, and said, “Believe you caught a nasty arrow on that trip, sir. Good to see you up and around.”
“Danke. It ist gut to see you, Herr Hannah.”
Pushing his glasses back on his nose, Hannah continued, “You remember Miss Tuttle, I’m certain. She’s my bride, Mrs. James Hannah.”
Rebecca blushed and Hannah grinned.
“Where’s Deed? I want to see him,” the gunman asked, waving his hand toward the barn.
The German farmer tugged on the bridle of the lead horse and told him about Deed returning to his ranch.
“You folks better get somethin’ to eat,” Pervious yelled as he climbed down from the driver’s box. “Gonna be a long spell before there’s more grub. None like this, I reckon.”
Hannah nodded. “Thanks. But we’re getting off here.”
“Thought you folks were going to Kansas.”
“Yeah, we are. But I’ve got some business here first.”
From the station doorway, Atlee Forsyth watched as the passengers came toward where she was standing. For an instant, she expected to see Deed Corrigan step out of the stage.
She missed Deed, thought of him often, and felt guilty about it. She should be missing her late husband and she did. But her heart was looking for something to heal the loss he left, and Deed was that answer. She knew it was wrong to feel this way, but she did.
“Oh, Deed—” she caught herself and looked back at Olivia Beinrigt in the main room setting the table. “Stage is here, Olivia.”
“Gut. Ve ist ready.”
The last couple to get out were familiar to Atlee: James Hannah and Rebecca Tuttle. The two of them walked slowly toward the station with the bespectacled gunman doing most of the talking.
At the doorway, Atlee greeted the all the passengers warmly and motioned them into the main room. Then turning to the couple, said, “Well, how good to see you again, Mr. Hannah . . . and you, too . . . Miss—”
“It’s Mrs.—Mrs. Hannah,” Rebecca said with a wide smile.
Hannah blushed and asked, “Is Deed around?”
It was Atlee’s turn to blush. “Oh, I’m sorry. Uh, Mr. Corrigan went back to his ranch some time ago.”
Frowning, Hannah asked if the ranch was far. Atlee explained the location, then excused herself to help with the other guests. Hannah joined Rebecca inside the station. She was talking with Olivia.
“Would it be possible to rent a buckboard or a carriage?” Hannah interrupted. “My wife and I need to go into town.”
Rebecca looked surprised. “I thought we were going on to Kansas, honey.”
“We are, dear. But I need to see Deed Corrigan. It’s important.”
“Certainly, dear.”
Atlee walked over from the table with a coffeepot in her hand. “Mr. Hannah, if you promise to return it soon, I can let you borrow one of our buckboards.” She smiled. “Or you can wait here, Mr. Corrigan is expected back sometime this week. He’s asked Benjamin to help with their roundup. And my Elizabeth is going along to play with his brother’s children.”
Hannah took off his glasses and cleaned them with a white handkerchief from his pocket.
“Where would we sleep?” he asked, returning the glasses to his nose.
Atlee said they could sleep on the employees’ bed, the one not being used by the Beinrigts.
“That would be excellent. We’ll wait.”