qualities are important?” she asked.
“Very well. I suggest evenhandedness. Objectivity. A better than average knowledge of the law, particularly the ones that govern the town. The man you’re looking for won’t take the job if there are laws that are inherently flawed.”
“For example?”
“Laws that favor one group over another without regard to merit.”
“Like supporting the rights of men over women. Husbands over wives.”
Cobb’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. “I opened that door wide, didn’t I?”
“You did. What else?”
“Skill at tracking, investigation. Someone who can lead.”
“Someone who commands respect.”
“Precisely. A point not in my favor, by the way.”
“You should not be so quick to judge the citizens of Bitter Springs. People respect a gambler who runs a fair game.”
“I swear, Miss Morrow, you are sorely tempting me to reveal the ace I keep up my sleeve.”
Tru’s mouth twisted to one side as she studied him. Her lips settled into their normal line once she arrived at her conclusion. “You don’t have an ace anywhere on your person. You don’t play with marked cards. And you don’t deal from the bottom of the deck.”
“You are more trusting than is good for you.”
“You are not the first person to say so.”
“Your father again?”
She shook her head. “My former employer. Mrs. Mackey chided me regularly, but then she was suspicious of everyone. I asked her once if she was born cynical, and she assured me that she wasn’t. Family, she said, had made her that way. I told it her that it was the same for me.”
“How do you mean?”
“Trusting others to be at least as good as they can be. Trusting that some will be better. That thinking is compliments of my father. He was a minister and great believer in the good.”
Both of Cobb’s eyebrows lifted. “So you’re a schoolteacher
and
a minister’s daughter. You really aren’t going to allow me to escort you home.”
She laughed. “I told you.”
Cecilia Ross visited each table one more time, collecting plates and refilling coffee cups. She arrived at Cobb and Tru’s table last. “I let Mrs. Sterling know you liked the pie.” She glanced at the slice Tru had barely touched. “Something wrong with yours, Miss Morrow?”
“Not at all. I was chattering.”
“I noticed. I surely did.”
Tru was careful to temper her response. “I’m sure you weren’t alone. May I have my pie wrapped? I’d like to take it home.” She thought Cecilia looked as if she wanted to say no, but in the end she acquiesced.
“Of course.” She stopped short of saying she would be happy to do it.
“Thank you, Cil.”
Cecilia was already turning toward Cobb. “Is there anything else you’d like, Mr. Bridger?”
“Nothing for me.”
“Will you be going to the saloon before long? Folks have been asking.”
“Within the hour. There’s something I need to do first.”
“You don’t mind if I let people know? Jem and Jessop Davis are looking to win back what they lost last night. Jake says they’re fools, but he’d like to watch his brothers lose their shirts. I think he means to collect them for you.”
“I doubt it will come to that. Thank you, Miss Ross. Certainly you can let people know I intend to play this evening.”
“Oh, you’re welcome, Mr. Bridger. It’ll be my pleasure.”
When she walked away Tru checked to see if Cil’s feet were touching the ground. They were, but only just. She glanced at Cobb. “I hope you do not mean to break that girl’s heart, though I imagine she would bear as much responsibility for the breakage as you.”
Cobb said, “You’re making too much of her attention.”
Tru shrugged lightly.
Cobb’s eyes fell to the plate in front of Tru. “She forgot to take your pie.”
“I rest my case.”
* * *
Cobb sat at the small oak writing desk beside his bed, his feet propped sideways on a three-legged stool he had carried out of the bathing room. Walter
“Very well. I suggest evenhandedness. Objectivity. A better than average knowledge of the law, particularly the ones that govern the town. The man you’re looking for won’t take the job if there are laws that are inherently flawed.”
“For example?”
“Laws that favor one group over another without regard to merit.”
“Like supporting the rights of men over women. Husbands over wives.”
Cobb’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. “I opened that door wide, didn’t I?”
“You did. What else?”
“Skill at tracking, investigation. Someone who can lead.”
“Someone who commands respect.”
“Precisely. A point not in my favor, by the way.”
“You should not be so quick to judge the citizens of Bitter Springs. People respect a gambler who runs a fair game.”
“I swear, Miss Morrow, you are sorely tempting me to reveal the ace I keep up my sleeve.”
Tru’s mouth twisted to one side as she studied him. Her lips settled into their normal line once she arrived at her conclusion. “You don’t have an ace anywhere on your person. You don’t play with marked cards. And you don’t deal from the bottom of the deck.”
“You are more trusting than is good for you.”
“You are not the first person to say so.”
“Your father again?”
She shook her head. “My former employer. Mrs. Mackey chided me regularly, but then she was suspicious of everyone. I asked her once if she was born cynical, and she assured me that she wasn’t. Family, she said, had made her that way. I told it her that it was the same for me.”
“How do you mean?”
“Trusting others to be at least as good as they can be. Trusting that some will be better. That thinking is compliments of my father. He was a minister and great believer in the good.”
Both of Cobb’s eyebrows lifted. “So you’re a schoolteacher
and
a minister’s daughter. You really aren’t going to allow me to escort you home.”
She laughed. “I told you.”
Cecilia Ross visited each table one more time, collecting plates and refilling coffee cups. She arrived at Cobb and Tru’s table last. “I let Mrs. Sterling know you liked the pie.” She glanced at the slice Tru had barely touched. “Something wrong with yours, Miss Morrow?”
“Not at all. I was chattering.”
“I noticed. I surely did.”
Tru was careful to temper her response. “I’m sure you weren’t alone. May I have my pie wrapped? I’d like to take it home.” She thought Cecilia looked as if she wanted to say no, but in the end she acquiesced.
“Of course.” She stopped short of saying she would be happy to do it.
“Thank you, Cil.”
Cecilia was already turning toward Cobb. “Is there anything else you’d like, Mr. Bridger?”
“Nothing for me.”
“Will you be going to the saloon before long? Folks have been asking.”
“Within the hour. There’s something I need to do first.”
“You don’t mind if I let people know? Jem and Jessop Davis are looking to win back what they lost last night. Jake says they’re fools, but he’d like to watch his brothers lose their shirts. I think he means to collect them for you.”
“I doubt it will come to that. Thank you, Miss Ross. Certainly you can let people know I intend to play this evening.”
“Oh, you’re welcome, Mr. Bridger. It’ll be my pleasure.”
When she walked away Tru checked to see if Cil’s feet were touching the ground. They were, but only just. She glanced at Cobb. “I hope you do not mean to break that girl’s heart, though I imagine she would bear as much responsibility for the breakage as you.”
Cobb said, “You’re making too much of her attention.”
Tru shrugged lightly.
Cobb’s eyes fell to the plate in front of Tru. “She forgot to take your pie.”
“I rest my case.”
* * *
Cobb sat at the small oak writing desk beside his bed, his feet propped sideways on a three-legged stool he had carried out of the bathing room. Walter
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