"Just about everybody left in Utopia. Hand me an apron from that drawer over there," Lou directed. "And that butcher knife," she pointed.
Mary did as Lou asked, handing her first the apron and then the knife. "Are we running a boardinghouse?" Mary asked.
Lou laughed. "If we were, we'd go broke." She stopped slicing ham long enough to look at Mary. "We don't have any paying customers."
"I don't understand."
"Well, Tabitha probably didn't put everything in the letter she wrote to her brother. Or if she did, maybe he forgot to tell you."
"Tell me what?"
"Tabitha Gray's been practically feeding the whole population of Utopia ever since the mine shut down."
"The mine is shut down?" Mary felt like a parrot and an ignorant parrot at that. It seems Tabitha Gray had left a great deal out of her letter to her "brother." Or, as Lou suggested, "Brother" Lee had conveniently forgotten to tell his wife.
"The mine's been shut down for close to a year now," Lou told her. "And most of the miners—nearly all our menfolk—have been gone almost as long."
"You're all living by yourselves?"
"Yes, ma'am." Lou laughed again. "With the exception of a handful of men—three crippled miners, Carl Baker and Ned Sampson, who work in the Depot, Mike Kinter at the livery, Hugh Morton at the Ajax Saloon, Jed Buford at Sherman's General Store, old Mr. Crane, and your husband—what we have here is a town chock-full of women and children."
Mary bit her bottom lip in concentration. How was she going to afford the upkeep of Ettinger House and food for an entire town on her monthly allowance and Lee's Pinkerton salary?
Lou wiped her hands on her apron, then reached over and patted Mary on the hand. "Now, don't fret about things. We're not going to descend on you like locusts at supper tonight. We decided it was best to give you and your husband a little time to get used to the idea of having us around at mealtimes in case you didn't know anything about it."
"I… we… didn't."
Lou nodded. "I figured as much." She patted Mary's hand once again. "Well, don't worry, we'll work something out if you… that is… if you and your husband decide to continue to exchange our services for meals."
Mary heard the question in Louisa's voice and recognized the tension behind the older woman's casually spoken words. "Of course, we plan to continue to exchange services." She smiled at Louisa. "Like you said, this house is much too big for one woman to handle alone, especially a woman trying to look after a two-and-a-half-year-old little girl and an elderly gentleman."
Louisa immediately relaxed and continued her supper preparations. "Tabitha didn't mention whether or not you had children of your own," Lou said as she bent to pull a cast-iron frying pan from the bottom cabinet beside the stove.
"We don't have any," Mary said.
"Hmmm. Something smells good." Lee entered the kitchen wearing a charcoal-colored shirt and a pair of buckskin britches. His hair was damp and neatly combed into place and his face, except for his mustache, was freshly shaven. He looked wonderful as he walked over to the worktable and peeked over Mary's shoulder, watching as she carefully rolled out a pie crust. "Who are you talking to? And what don't we have?"
Mary moved away from the worktable as Lou pulled herself up from her bent-over position so Lee could see they that they had a visitor. "Lee, this is Louisa Shockley." Mary made the introductions. "Lou, this is my husband, Lee Kincaid. Tabitha's brother." Mary stressed the last word as she raised an eyebrow at Lee. "Lou was asking if we had children of our own."
"Mrs. Shockley." He extended his hand in greeting.
Louisa automatically reached out to shake hands with Lee, then stopped when she realized she was still holding the cast-iron frying pan in her right hand. "Call me Lou," she told him. "
All my friends do."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lou," Lee said.
"Same here," Louisa answered, studying Lee closely. She set the frying pan down on the stove and began to pile the ham slices in it. "There ain't much of a family resemblance between brother and sister, is there?" Lou asked, turning to Mary.
"I'm sorry to say I never met Tabitha," Mary told her. "I've only seen a photograph of her."
Louisa turned to Lee. "Then shame on you for never bringing your wife to meet your sister while she was alive."
"Tabitha and I were never really close," Lee answered. "We had different fathers. I grew to favor my father and I believe Tabitha resembled hers."
Louisa nodded. "That explains it then, and probably explains why Tabitha never mentioned having a brother or a sister-in-law at all until she got sick." She sighed. "Well, we all have our family secrets and our family squabbles." Lou turned her attention back to Mary. "Anyway, like I was saying, Tabitha had a different look about her. She wasn't a blond-haired blue-eyed beauty, but she had the most beautiful skin, masses of dark hair, and big brown eyes—like you." Lou smiled at Mary. "You could have been related."
"I doubt it," Mary answered honestly. "I'm Cherokee Indian with a dash of Scots blood thrown in." Mary saw the look in Louisa's eyes at the mention of her Indian blood and waited for the moment when the older woman would turn her back on her and walk away in disgust. She didn't even realize she had gone into a rigid defensive posture until she felt Lee give her shoulder a gentle squeeze.