Part 56 (2/2)

Likely just as well. The cunning man wanted to observe Madame Taliaferro, but barging up to her door and knocking didn't seem a useful way to make her introduction.

Still. . . .

In front of the house was a well-manicured lawn. A pair of gray squirrels, plump and clothed in fur grown sleekly full at the approach of Fall, hopped across the lawn-and over the low board fence which had protected Chesson's sauce garden, now grown up in vines.

”Hoy, squirrel!” Old Nathan called. ”Is the lady what lives here t' home?”

The nearer squirrel hopped up on his hind legs, looking in all directions. ”What's thet? What's thet I heard?” he chirped.

”Yer wastin' yer time,” the mule said. ”Hain't a squirrel been born yet whut's got brain enough t' tell whether hit's rainin'.”

”He's talkin' t' ye,” the other squirrel said as she continued to snuffle across the short gra.s.s of the lawn.

”He says, is the lady home t' the house?”

The male squirrel blinked. ”Huh?” he said to his mate. ”What would I be doin' in a house?” He resumed a tail-high patrol which seemed to ignore the occasional hickory nuts lying in the gra.s.s.

”Told ye so,” the mule commented.

Old Nathan scowled. Boards laid edgewise set off a path from the front door to the road. A pile of dog droppings marked the gravel.

”Squirrel,” the cunning man said. ”Is there a little dog t' home, now?”

”What?” the male squirrel demanded. ”Whur is it? Thet nasty little monster's come back!”

”Now, don't ye git yerse'f all stirred up!” his mate said. ”Hit's all right, hit's gone off down the road already.”

”Thankee, squirrels,” Old Nathan said. ”Git on, mule.”

”Ifen thet dog's not here, thin whyiver did he say it was?” the male squirrel complained loudly.

”We could uv done thet a'ready, ye know,” the mule said as he ambled on toward the main part of town.

”Er we could uv stayed t' home.”

”Thet's right,” Old Nathan said grimly. ”We could.”

He knew he was on a fool's errand, because only a durned fool would think Francine Taliaferro might be using some charm or other on the Ransden boy. He didn't need a mule to tell him.

Rance Holden's store was the center of Oak Hill, unless you preferred to measure from Shorty Hitchc.o.c.k's tavern across the one dirt street. Holden's building was gable-end to the road. The store filled the larger square room, while Rance and his wife lived in the low rectangular s.p.a.ce beneath the eaves overhanging to the left.

The family's s.p.a.ce had been tight when the Holdens had children at home. The five boys and the girl who survived were all moved off on their own by now.

”Don't you tie me t' the rail thur,” the mule said. ”Somebody 'll spit t'baccy at me sure.”

”Thin they'll answer t' me,” the cunning man said. ”But seeins as there's n.o.body on the porch, I don't figger ye need worry.”

Four horses, one with a side-saddle, were hitched to the rail. Usually there were several men sitting on the board porch among barrels of bulk merchandise, chewing tobacco and whittling; but today they were all inside. That was good evidence that Madame Francine Taliaferro was inside as well. . . .

The interior of Holden's store was twelve foot by twelve foot. Not s.p.a.cious by any standard, it was now packed with seven adults- And a pug dog who tried to fill as much s.p.a.ce as the humans.

”Hey, you old b.a.s.t.a.r.d!” the dog snapped as the cunning man stepped through the open door. ”I'm going to bite you till you bleed, and there's nothing you can do about it!”

”Howdy Miz Holden, Rance,” Old Nathan said. ”Thompson-” a nod to the saddler, a cadaverous man with a full beard but no hair above the level of his ears ”-Bart-” another nod, this time to the settlement's miller, Bart Alpers- ”I'm going to bite you!” the little dog yapped as it lunged forward and dodged back. ”I'll do just that, and you don't dare to stop me!”

Nods, murmured howdies/yer keepin' well from the folk who crowded the store.

”-'n Mister M'Donald,” the cunning man said with a nod for the third white man, a husky, hard-handed man who'd made a good thing of a tract ten miles out from the settlement. M'Donald looked even sillier in an ill-fitting blue tailcoat than Bully Ransden had done in his finery the evening before.

Madame Taliaferro's black servant, on the other hand, wore his swallowtail coat, ruffed s.h.i.+rt, and orange breeches with an air of authority. He stood behind his mistress, with his eyes focused on infinity and his hands crossed behind his back.

”Now, Cesar,” the woman who was the center of the store's attention murmured to her dog. She looked at Old Nathan with an unexpected degree of appraisal. ”Baby be good for ma-ma.”

”Said I'm going to bite you!” insisted the dog. ”Here goes!”

Old Nathan whispered inaudible words with his teeth in a tight smile. The little dog did jump forward to bite his pants leg, sure as the Devil was loose in the world.

The dog froze.

”Mum,” Old Nathan said as he reached down and scooped the dog up in his hand. The beast's mouth was open. Sudden terror filled its nasty little eyes.

Francine Taliaferro had l.u.s.trous dark hair-not a patch on Ellie's, but groomed in a fas.h.i.+on the younger woman's could never be. Her face was pouty-pretty, heavily powdered and rouged, and the skirt of her blue organdy dress flared out in a fas.h.i.+on that made everyone else in the store stand around like the numbers on a clock dial with her the hub.

But that's what it would have been anyway; only perhaps with the others pressing in yet closer.

Old Nathan handed the stiffened dog to Madame Taliaferro. ”Hain't he the cutest li'l thing?” the cunning man said.

The woman's red lips opened in shock, but by reflex her gloved hands accepted the petrified animal that was thrust toward her. As soon as Old Nathan's fingers no longer touched the animal's fur, the dog resumed where it had stopped. Its teeth snapped into its mistress's white shoulder.

Three of the men shouted. Madame Taliaferro screamed in outrage and flung Cesar up into the roof shakes. The dog bounced down into a shelf of yard goods, then ran out the door. It was yapping unintelligibly.

Old Nathan smiled. ”Jest cute as a b.u.t.ton.”

There was no more magic in this woman than there was truth in a politician's heart. If Ellie had a complaint, it was against whatever fate had led a woman-a lady-so sophisticated to Oak Hill.

And complaint agin Bully Ransden, fer bein' a durned fool; but folks were, men 'n women both. . . .

”By G.o.d!” M'Donald snarled. ”I oughter break ye in two fer thet!”

He lurched toward the cunning man but collided with Alpers, who cried, ”I won't let ye fall!” as he tried to grab the woman. Rance Holden tried to crawl out from behind the counter while his wife glared, and Thompson blathered as though somebody had just fallen into a mill saw.

”Everyone stop this at once!” Madame Taliaferro cried with her right index finger held upright. Her voice was as clear and piercing as a well-tuned bell.

Everyone did stop. All eyes turned toward the woman; which was no doubt as things normally were in Madame Taliaferro's presence.

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