The Librarian

Episode 12

The news of the Governor's visit stunned her and her mouth fell open in shock. "What . . .?"

"Apparently the gang at Black Creek have been on the wanted posters of three territories and any number of towns for all kinds of crimes, Harriet." He waited for her focus to return. "I think he wants to reward you and probably have his picture taken with you for the papers back at the capitol."

"Sheriff Becker never said—"

"He didn't know. Somehow he never got copies of any posters or any telegrams."

"This will not happen. I am not some prize heifer to be held up and exploited."

"It's the Governor, Harriet, you won't be able to avoid it. Not if you want the mayor to allow you to stay here."

"So I'm being blackmailed into prostituting myself for political purposes?"

"Whoa! I wouldn't think of saying anything like that. But let me finish. The mayor doesn't want any news of your – of the other – events that happened, to get out. He's worried about his own neck here."

"I'm not going to be used—"

"Listen to me a minute . . . the presentation is very likely a monetary one. There were several large rewards outstanding, these could be a huge windfall for your business."

"I already had the sheriff give the reward to the church."

"That wasn't a reward, that was the mayor trying to appear civic minded. This could be real money – and," He held up a hand before she could interrupt again, "it would be useful in your campaign for the improvement in the lot of women. You could even tell the Governor that, publicly, and he would almost have to agree or appear uncaring."

Harriet stared at her desk, her fingers toying with the feather bookmark she used in her ledger.

"I'm surprised you had to ask me not to mention my other misfortunes."

"I didn't. This is me asking for the sheriff, who was ordered by the mayor. Neither of them were brave enough to do it themselves."

A slight smile began at the corner of her mouth. "And you are brave enough." He made a useless gesture and assumed a silly grin. "You may assure the cowards I shall not mention anything. I don't understand why they don't believe I want this to go away. I want to try to forget it."

"Politics, Harriet. They don't look at things the same way."

"No, they certainly don't. Did you see Mayor Devlin's contribution to the library?"

He expressed shock. "Avery made a donation?"

That day you brought the blanket bill, he gave me a package."

"I remember that. What was it?"

"An album with a personal history of his service as mayor of Tuckerville. Testimonials. Letters of praise from various community leaders – even a few clippings from your paper."

"Well that should drive home how politicians think."

"It did."

There were a few moments of awkward silence then Aaron made his excuse to go, to let her look after her business, and she walked him to the door, pausing with a hand on his arm.

"Thank you, Aaron. I appreciate your understanding and your advice."

"Speaking of understanding," he turned his hat in his fingers and looked down. "Our church social outing didn't work out quite how I planned, and I wonder if I might suggest a meal together sometime soon?"

"That seems a reasonable solution. I'll await your call." Her face was blank, but he saw the tiny creases appear beside her eyes as he was eased out the door and into the street.

****

"Mayor was sure happy he thought up this ditch idea and offering financial incentive to volunteers." Sheriff Becker laughed and nudged Aaron with his sore arm. "He appreciated your donatin' them posters too." The laugh grew and Aaron just shook his head, unable to suppress a smile of his own.

The two men stood watching as a small army of mucky looking men shovelled dirt from the new ditches onto the road. Muddy water had already begun to flow in, and the job looked like an exercise in futility.

"Road gets much higher we'll need steps to get back down to the boardwalk."

"That's a warm sun starting, Sheriff. By noon it'll have dried most of that muck up and they can get the horses in to drag it so it drains. After that, the sun'll bake it hard."

"'Till the next storm."

"Then it will drain into the ditches." Aaron nudged the sheriff back. "Get Avery to explain it to you." They both laughed.

Becker started away and stopped. "Did you ah, talk to Miss Folio?"

"I did, and she is no more interested in bringing up the past than you are – and she's not all that keen about meeting the Governor either."

"Don't tell Avery that, he'll get all out of sorts. This is to be his hog killin' moment, and I expect he'll want your paper to write it up just so."

"I will, you don't have to worry about that." The twinkle in his eye made Becker shake his head. "When is he expected anyway?"

"Within a week I think. He comes afore that he's liable to sink outta sight." Becker's chin lifted toward the road.

"Now that would be a story." Aaron clapped his hands and headed off to his shop.

****

Governor Charles Mayhew looked from behind the curtain on his private stage and squinted at the dry, dusty landscape. Even the mountains in the background, which he knew were heavily forested, looked the same dusty grey. He closed the curtain and wiped some grit from the corner of his mouth.

"How far to this Tuckerville?"

"We spend tonight at the Henderson ranch and stage depot, so sometime tomorrow afternoon, depending on how soon we leave in the morning." Thomas Wilkes, the governor's aide, recited.

"What's this Henderson place like?"

"You'll be staying in the ranch house with the family, the depot will have travellers from the stage, and it's not a very savoury arrangement."

"What about this family?"

"Husband and wife and two daughters. One eighteen and another twelve. They claim to have voted for you, sir."

"Did they now . . . I'll have to show them my gratitude." He pulled the curtain aside and stared out again, picturing the Henderson's response to his magnanimity.

****

The Governor and his entourage were received with grace and a communal prayer, which sucked dry the anticipation of his visit. When finally alone with his aide, Mayhew complained bitterly over the fact that the eldest daughter was so tightly wrapped in religion they might as well be staying in a nunnery.

Thomas spent most of the evening after they retired, placating his superior and assuring him, that there would be ample opportunity in Tuckerville to slumguzzle, the current slang for engaging in temporary, intimate relationships.

He was relieved that by the evening of the following day, the Governor would be in Tuckerville, wined and dined by the Mayor and gentry, and Thomas's constant service would enjoy a much needed break. The job was taking its toll on him. His appetite was off and sleep was nothing more than sporadic bursts.