“Over here,” Allie said.
The woman turned and looked in our direction.
“Oh, hello,” she said and started walking toward us. She waited for some traffic to clear, then lifted the front of her dress and scampered swiftly to us.
“That’s Margie,” Allie said. “She’s a new friend. Mrs. Vandervoort introduced us.”
Margie was smiling as she approached. She had an enthusiastic and glowing exuberance about her. She was a petite blonde with delicate features and a smile that was as pretty as any smile I’d ever seen on a woman.
“I was just checking in on you,” she said.
“Well, I’m glad you did,” Allie said.
When she stepped up on the boardwalk she smiled with even greater warmth as she looked at Allie.
“Your shop, it looks to be coming along nicely,” she said.
“It is,” Allie said, beaming. “Look at the sign.”
Margie pirouetted with a bounce to look back to the sign.
“Oh,” she said with a slight squeal, “I love it.”
“You do?”
“I do,” she said, looking back to Allie. Then she looked to me and blushed a little.
“Oh, Margie, this is Everett Hitch and . . . Virgil Cole.”
“The Virgil?” she said.
“Yes,” Allie said with a smile. “The Virgil.”
“I have heard about you, Mr. Cole.”
Virgil nodded a bit.
“What’d she tell you?” he said.
“That you are a lawman,” she said. “A United States Territorial Marshal.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Virgil said with a tip of his hat. “Miss . . . ?”
“Witherspoon,” she said. “Margie Witherspoon.”
“Miss Witherspoon,” Virgil said with a nod.
“What about me?” I said. “Say anything about me?”
She laughed.
“I’m sorry . . . Mr. Hitch, is it?”
“Obviously she didn’t,” I said. “And it’s Everett. Everett Hitch.”
“Everett,” she said with a smile. “I am afraid Allie has not mentioned you, but we are new friends, so I’m certain in due time she would have expounded on you.”
I looked to Allie.
“Allie?”
“I certainly would have,” Allie said. “I always talk about Everett, don’t I, Virgil?”
“You do,” Virgil said.
“See, Everett,” Allie said. “Everett and Virgil work together, they are both lawmen.”
“Deputy Marshal Everett Hitch,” I said and removed my hat and bowed a little.
“Well, it is a pleasure,” she said.
I looked to Allie, then back to Margie.
“New friends, you say?”
“We are,” Allie said. “I told Margie that if my business got going good, maybe I could use some help running things.”
“My father was a tailor,” she said. “Runs in my family.”
“And just look at her,” Allie said. “She’s a young woman with style and sophistication.”
“Oh, Allie,” she said, blushing.
“You are,” Allie said. “Every time I’ve seen you, you look like one of the beauties from the catalogs.”
“You are too sweet,” she said.
“Where do you hail from, Miss Witherspoon?” I said.
“Margie,” she said. “Please.”
“Margie,” I said with my best smile.
“Nebraska,” she said. “Lincoln.”
“Oh . . . Lincoln,” I said.
“You say that like you know Lincoln.”
“I do,” I said. “I was stationed there for a short time during my time with the Army.”
“Everett’s traveled all over this country,” Allie said. “He knows more than any man I’ve ever met.”
“Not more than Virgil,” I said.
“Well,” Allie said affectionately as she looked to Virgil. “Virgil has his own particular smarts.”
“What brings you to Appaloosa?” I said.
“My uncle passed away here and I came to sort out his affairs.”
“Sorry to hear,” I said.
“Thank you. He’d been ill for a while, and though it was hard on the family, it was expected.”
“My condolences,” I said.
She smiled.
“Anyway,” she said. “I was saying to Allie that I like the place enough that I just might have to stay for a while. I have been enjoying my visit and it seems every day brings a new surprise.”
“That so?” I said with another one of my best smiles.
“She has money to invest,” Allie said.
“Oh,” Margie said. “My family’s money, not much, of course, but I thought it smart to be forward-thinking. Mrs. Vandervoort has been guiding me on what to do. Perhaps I will invest in her husband’s growing empire. He obviously knows what he is doing.”
“Yes,” Allie said. “And Mrs. Vandervoort comes from one of the finest bloodlines in all of New York City, and who better to get advice from?”
“Bloodlines?” Virgil said. “Hell, that’s sounds like horse talk, Allie.”
“It certainly is not, Virgil Cole,” said Allie. “And what would you know about it anyway?”
“Not much, I suppose,” said Virgil.
Margie laughed. Her laughter was light and funny and she made Allie laugh, and me, too.
“Isn’t she the cutest?” Allie said, looking at Margie.
“She is,” I said.