Along with Elsbeth, Amy spent the evening and the next morning in preparation for Judge Blake's arrival. With the measurements that she'd taken, Arn had a decent shirt and a pair of pants which fit -- more or less - to begin with, but Elsbeth had proven to be a very handy and knowledgeable seamstress in her way, so Amy was pleased with how he looked. Elsbeth and Marie looked wonderful in the clothing that they'd chosen, and the kitchen smelled with the various aromas of the venison roast that Amy had prepared. What they didn't expect was the procession of the judge's arrival.
Amy stared as they crested the ridge at the other end of the little plain in front of the house. The judge sat on the seat of a small, but sturdy farm wagon pulled by a pair of mules, and there was a buckboard behind that drawn by a horse and driven by a woman.
"I don't know how we'll handle this," she said to the others, "but I'll have to tend to the animals as best I can, and I'm hoping that none of them lose their minds. The judge is an old family friend, and he's more like an uncle to me. I don't know who the lady is though, I've never seen her before."
As it happened, the mules were of a very level temperament and other than looking a little askance at Elsbeth, who insisted that she could handle them, the only one who caused much of a fuss was the horse, who acted up a little, but was fine when left hitched and staked under a shade tree with some oats. Blake walked onto the porch, gratefully accepting the whiskey that Amy proffered to sit down beside Katherine and the others. He wiped his brow with his handkerchief before the coolness of the beverage registered.
"There's ice in here," he smiled in surprise, "How in the world, ..."
Katherine chuckled, holding up her own glass.
"Pa put in an ice cabinet in the storm cellar," Amy smiled, "He used to just saw up blocks of ice from the stream in the winter and drag them down to keep in the cellar covered with sawdust. But every year he could never tell if it would freeze enough to get much more than sheets. Once he saw how the ice cabinet had been made, Pa turned almost half of the storm cellar into a cabinet. It's a lot of work, but, he'd just go up to the pool and he could get better chunks there. He'd walk them down slowly once a week or so on a toboggan that he'd more or less guide and steer from behind until he was at the bottom, and then he'd just pull it to the cellar, break it up, and fill the spaces that he'd built for it.
It took some time every week, but then he said that he always had a lot of that in the winter. There's still about half of the ice left now, so we can hang meat and keep things like eggs for a lot longer."
Clayton smiled as he raised the glass, "My old friend's dead and gone and he still surprises me." He raised his glass, "To Terry Monaghan," he said, "the finest man I ever knew. Wherever you are, my old friend, I'm sure they're learning about your talents, and likely, you're making a good profit at it as well."
He turned to regard Arn for a moment, but it didn't take much more than that to make him nod and smile. "Not that it matters at all, Mr. Stormfeather," he said, "but I've already decided that I like you. Where are you from, and how did you come to be here?"
He winked, "I don't need the whole tale, my young friend, Just enough to hold my interest while I enjoy Terry's whiskey."
"That's my whiskey, Uncle Clayton," Amy grinned, "I drank the last of Pa's myself after we buried him."
"It's close enough," the judge grinned, "It tastes just as fine as I remember his tasting."
"I come from far to the north and east," Arn said, "and traveled south and west. I have been through the United States, Mexico, all the way down to Peru and back north until I came here." Anticipating Clayton's next question, Arn smiled, "I wanted to see some of the world, but I didn't have the gold for passage on any ship, so I went where I could walk. It took a long time."
"Arn can speak many languages, Uncle Clayton, and he can track and hunt. I was thinking of asking him to help with some of the children that we get at the school sometimes for a little while. He can speak Spanish and many of the Indian dialects." She laughed a little, "I need to keep him busy after we get to Santa Fe."
The meal went well and the introductions made, along with the cover story that Amy had made Marie and Elsbeth rehearse the evening before. Katherine was a very attractive and friendly woman, and it was obvious to Amy that the pair loved each other. "It's a shame that you have to go back so soon. If you could stay a little while longer," Clayton smiled, "maybe you could be guests at another wedding."
The ceremony went well afterwards and they shared a few toasts over the bottle that Amy had gotten along with everything else the previous day and Clayton repeated his toast, along with about every other one that he could remember. But as they prepared to depart, he pulled Amy aside for a few moments.
"I didn't want to cast a pall over your wedding day, Amy," he said as he held out an opened telegram envelope to her. "I know that you'll be heading back tomorrow as you told me yesterday. But this came to me this morning just before we left to come here. It was addressed to me, but it's for you from a Miss Sanchez. I hope that I've done the right thing in waiting to give you this."
Amy pulled the telegram out and read it. She looked up, "Don't worry, Uncle Clayton. You've done the right thing. With the distance involved, there's no help for it, is there? We'll leave in the morning as planned and I can only hope that Aunt Maeve is alright when we get there, that's all." She put her arms around Clayton's neck and kissed his cheek. "Thank you so much for everything that you've done for me. The wagon and the mules are perfect. I'm sure that Elsbeth will have no trouble."
He smiled, "I'm only returning a favour, my girl. Your father gave me a wagon years ago when he met me at the train station, an Eastern lawyer with a ton of books and cabinets and no way to haul them. I was just too cheap to buy something more in keeping with the style of a member of the bench that I've become because of his advice and encouragement. The mules, I picked out myself from a bunch that the army was selling off. They're not too old, but you said that you wanted to find something calm in a draft animal for Elsbeth's use.
These are army mules Amy, and if they haven't seen it before -- whatever it might be, then it doesn't exist or it doesn't matter anyway from their point of view. They were born bored. I had to buy three to get a good price, but I know that I can likely sell the third one off in a week or so, after the army muleskinners leave town. I've brought you some hay bales as you see, and I'll stop in at Pat Samuel's place on the way by to ask him to drop off more in about a week's time."
He turned to Arn and offered his hand again, "I only know a little about you, Arn, but I've already seen enough to know that you're a good man for Amy."
Katherine's eyes smiled as she took Clayton's hand, "I think it's the quiet ones who can tell you what they mean in the loudest way, Amy."
Amy smiled and blushed a little in spite of herself and the judge laughed as he continued, "Please take care of her. She means such a lot to me. I wish you both the very best and a long life of happiness together."
Amy smiled, "Would you send a reply telegram -- that is, if the telegraph office is still open when you get back? You could always send it tomorrow." She took the judge's pencil to spell out the name of the recipient for him.
"Most certainly, Amy," Clayton replied, "what should it say?"
She smiled, "Address it right back to Ximena Sanchez, and tell her that Mrs. Amy Stormfeather will be home as fast as she can get there, but not to tell Maeve of my new name, and that there are lots of new sketches for her to approve." She smiled a little, "She'll know what it means."
As they watched the buckboard drive away, they waved until it was over the crest of the ridge and gone. "What troubles you Sheena?" Arn asked.
Amy sighed, "My great aunt Maeve. She's taken a stroke. Ximena says that she's getting better, but I'm worried, that's all. She's all that I have left now. Is there anything, ..."
Arn smiled a little hopefully, "I do not know if there is anything that I can do for your great aunt yet, but we can get to Santa Fe a little quicker by another road -- it you trust me."
The statement brought a smile back to Amy's face and she hugged him. "I don't think I'll be in much of a mood for a wedding night," she said, "but I always feel better when you hold me. Just give me a day to think things through and I'll be fine."
Arn kissed her for a moment and nodded, "I have been having wedding nights with you since we started," he smiled.
"I feel the same way, Arn," she smiled up at him, "You know I've felt like we belong together from the beginning."
The rest of the evening left little time for much beyond some packing and preparations for the trip. The sun hadn't cleared the rise when Arn and his bride said their goodbyes the next morning. Arn was dressed as he'd been the previous day and Amy wore pants and a cotton shirt. Her rifles were in their scabbards next to her saddle and she had her holster tied to her thigh once more as they rode off with Winky trotting beside them.
This trip was the first that she'd made where she didn't feel the need to hide her hair or her femininity in the least, and to her, it felt wonderful. They rode down to the road and headed west along it.
"Why do we ride toward the town?" Arn asked.
"As much as I don't like the idea all that much," Amy replied, "we need to get you a few more clothes and a pair of boots. After that, we can leave the road if you want."
"My feet will hurt, I think," he said, more as a thought to himself.
"Likely, "she admitted, "at least until they wear in."
"The boots or my feet?" Arn smirked.
"A little of both," she smiled, "I promise that you can take them off later."
He looked down at Miss Winky, "You are lucky," he said quietly.
