Boundless

Chapter 25

The end of summer was, by far, the hottest. Jenny and I spent most of our days lying around the house sweating. It was too hot to read or even think. For a few weeks, while Charlie was out of town, I had Jenny all to myself. Ezra’s visits came more and more often until they were a daily occurrence.

Ezra would call around ten o’clock every morning but Sundays. We would sit in the parlor while mother eavesdropped. Sometimes we would talk of news or books or the weather. In the beginning they were dreaded. I always felt so awkward around him. After awhile, though, I began to enjoy his company. His visits became a source of normalcy when my mind was anything but. Sam’s name popped up in the papers every week.

The Hull Gang spent the second half of July of 1881 robbing banks and having the time of their lives. With every bank, be it Denver or Bannack or Sacramento, their celebrity grew and grew until they were almost synonymous with the James Gang. I walked down the street and heard the name “Hull” on everyone’s lips. My circle of friends even began to take notice. Katherine Gall was especially taken with Sam.

“I read his eyes are green as grass,” she told me one day after church. “I wonder what it would be like to meet him. I imagine him as being very aloof. Bank robbers are always very aloof.”

I wanted to ask how many bank robbers she had actually met before. Instead, Lydia Putney chimed in to say that she favored Christopher over Sam. Christopher, she said, was a natural leader and the most handsome of the brothers.

“They’re all so...mysterious,” Katherine said.

Luckily, they never asked for my input and, luckily, the topic of Sam never came up in conversation with Ezra. For a future bank president, Ezra wasn’t very interested in the crimes of the Hull Gang. This was much like anything else pertaining to banking in his life.

As the only son, and only child, of the Hull family, Ezra was expected to take over the family bank once it came time for his father to retire. One August morning, he told me he was dreading the day he would be in charge.

An wrinkle formed between his eyebrows as he told me of his love for medicine. “I used to follow Doctor Perkins around all the time growing up,” he admitted to me one August morning. “I’ve wanted to help people for as long as I can remember. I want to cure people and make a difference–a much bigger difference than I can make as a bank president.” Ezra looked up at me as he realized he had told said this out loud. “You have to promise me you won’t say anything, it would kill my father.”

I gave him a reassuring smile and promised I would tell no one.

He smiled back and took my hand. “I can always trust you, Rebecca. You’re one of the few people who doesn’t expect anything from me. I feel like I can just come here and worry about nothing.”

“Surely that’s not true.”

“But it is. You’re so honest and kind and different than anyone I’ve ever met before.”

I couldn’t decide what to say so I settled on thank you.

Ezra, again, realized what he just said and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks. He looked down at our hands and suddenly drew his back. “I should be going.”

For the first time, I was a bit sad after he left. Ezra was growing on me and I was too exhausted to try and cut him back.