The Complete Western Stories of Elmore Leonard - Elmore Leonard [176]
Willis Calender had come to Anton Chico to marry a woman he’d never met except in letters. Three letters from him—the first two to get acquainted, the third to ask her to be his wife. She’d answered all of them, saying, yes, she was interested in the marriage state and finally she thought living down on the Yeso would be just fine. Which was exactly what the marriage broker said she would say. Her name was Clare Conway and she was to come over from Tascosa and meet Willis.
He brought Jim along because Jim was eleven, old enough to make the trip without squirming and wanting to stop every second mile, and because he was anxious for Jim to meet this woman before she became his mother. Then, the trip back to Yeso Creek would give the boy time to get used to her. Just bringing her home suddenly and saying, well, Jim, here’s your new ma walking in the door, would be expecting too much of the boy; like asking him to pretend everything was still the same. Jim had been good friends with his mother—though he didn’t cry at the funeral with all the people around—and he had a picture of her in his mind as fresh as yesterday. Willis Calender knew it, and this was the only thing about remarrying that bothered him.
Little Molly was different. Molly was three when her mother died, and Willis wasn’t sure if the little girl even remembered her still. The first few days with the new mother might be difficult, but it would only be a matter of time. It didn’t require the kind of getting used to her that it did with Jim; so Molly had been left home with their three-mile-away neighbors, the Granbys. Molly was four now, though, and she needed a mother. She was the main reason Willis Calender had written to the Santa Fe marriage broker, who was said to have the confidence of every eligible woman from the Panhandle to the Sangre de Cristos.
The boy looked about the early-morning street and then to his dad, who was raising his arms to take the mail sack the driver was lowering. He saw the dark suit coat strain across the shoulders and half expected to hear it rip but hoped it wouldn’t, because it was his father’s only coat that made up a suit. Usually it was hanging with mothballs in the pockets because cattle aren’t fussy about how a man looks. It was funny to see his dad wearing it. When was the last time? Then he remembered the bright, silent afternoon of the funeral.
Maybe she won’t be here, the boy thought, watching the driver come down off the wheel and take the mail sack and go up the steps of the express office. A man in range clothes was standing there against a post, and as the boy looked that way, their eyes met. The man said, “Hello, Jimmy,” his mouth forming a funny half-smile in the beard stubble that covered his mouth and jaw.
As Calender looked up, surprise seemed to sadden his weathered face. He put his big hand behind the boy’s shoulder and moved him forward toward the steps and said, “Hello, Dick.” Only that.
Dick Maddox was still against the post, his thumbs crooked in his belt. Another man in range clothes was on the other side of the post from him. Maddox nodded and said, “Will.” Then added, “I’m surprised you brought your boy along.”
“Why would that be?” Calender said.
“Well, it ain’t many boys see their dad get married.”
“How’d you know about that?”
“Things get around,” Maddox said easily. “You know, I was surprised Clare didn’t ask one of us fellas to give her away.”
CALENDER LOOKED at the man steadily, trying to hide his surprise, and hesitated so it wouldn’t show in his voice. “You know Miss Conway?”
Maddox glanced at the man next to him. “He says do I know Miss Conway.” Both of them grinned. “Well, I’d say anybody who’s followed the Canadian to Tascosa knows Miss Conway, and that’s just about everybody.”
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