Will stepped from the train, wrinkled, tired, and elated to be home. He gazed around, his eyes running slowly over the buildings, roads, and carriages in front of him. He hadn’t been here in years, and although it probably hadn’t changed as much as he thought, it was like a completely different world to him. In Texas, their roads had been dirt. Their houses had been of rough log or plank construction – whatever they could procure from the forests and valleys around them. The horses had been rough, stubborn beasts, tied to posts in front of the local pub. And the people had been just as rough, worn, hardy and brave people, dedicated to carving their lives out of the uncivilized land of the West.
Here in Boston, of course, the roads were made of cobblestones, the houses were brick and stone, and the people were dressed in their best brightly colored cottons and satins. It was Sunday, which meant most of the crowds were on their way to or from church, and so were dressed in their best. The women wore frilled bonnets, complete with flowers and ribbons. The men wore striped and plaid suits, with satin vests and handkerchiefs.
Will let his eyes travel across the colorful crowds and then laughed to himself. A different world, indeed. He glanced down at his own travel-stained clothing and pulled a face. Although he was wearing some of his best trousers – ordered straight from the best seamstress in El Paso! – he looked like a pauper among princes. His vest was stained as well, he knew, and had been stitched from deer hide. It did well for him on the trail, but here…
Turning, he collected his trunk and made for the family’s store. If she’d received his telegram, Aunt Hannah would be there waiting for him, and would be glad to see him regardless of his clothing and the travel stains on his face. When he walked in, he noticed immediately that things were different. The shelves were stocked, but untidy, with wrappers covering the empty areas. Nothing was lined up the way it had been in the past. The windows were dirty, and there was a fine layer of dust along some of the shelves. He didn’t think there were any new products out, either.
He looked around, confused, and tried to put his finger on what else was wrong. Aunt Hannah had always been a stickler for keeping the store tidy, so the fact that it was in such disarray confused him. What was going on here?
As he was trying to decide, his Uncle Benjamin rushed in from the back room. “Willie,” he said, “we got your telegram two days ago. Somebody from the office brought it over right away. Terrific to finally hear from you!” He held his hand out to shake Will’s, but Will paused.
“What’s wrong with your right hand, son?” he asked.
Will ignored the question, though, looking sideways as if there were questions he didn’t want to answer. He quickly changed the subject and started looking past Uncle Benjamin.
“Where’s Aunt Hannah?” he asked, his panic starting to grow. “Where are your clerks? Where’s Uncle Frank? Uncle Benjamin, where is everyone?” When his uncle didn’t answer, he pressed on, becoming more concerned. “Where are Grandpa George and Grandma Catherine? Where is everyone? Why are you here by yourself?” He stopped, his mind racing to all the worst possibilities, and waited for Benjamin to speak, desperate for some answer. He’d never seen his uncle in this shop by himself before, and he’d never seen it in such disrepair. Was the place even still open?
Benjamin took a deep breath, then gestured toward the office at the back of the store. “Willie, why don’t you come on back? I think everyone has a little catching up to do.” He turned toward the counter, where the head of a young woman suddenly popped up, her eyes anxious. “Emma, can you cover the front of the store please?” Benjamin asked.
Will looked from one to the other, surprised. “Emma?” he asked. “Baby Emma?” Why, she’d been toddling around at that time, or so he remembered, putting everything she could see into her mouth. Had he truly been gone that long?
Benjamin nodded proudly. “Emma is all grown up. She helps run the shop after school, these days.”
The girl moved around from behind the counter, having recognized Will, and strode quickly toward him. “Uncle Willie, it’s good to see you again! I was hoping you’d come home soon.” She wrapped her arms around him, giving him a hug, and he awkwardly returned the gesture. He hadn’t seen the girl in years, and wasn’t certain how she would even remember him, but he could imagine how romantic the stories of his life must have seemed to a girl this young.
“It’s good to see you too, Emma,” he muttered, extricating himself from her embrace. “Where’s your brother?” Justin had been a little older than Emma when he left.
“He only works on the days I can’t come,” she answered, grinning. “Mother works on weekends after she’s finished teaching.”
Will frowned and looked at Benjamin again. “Since when does everyone in the family work at the store? When do these two get to go out and be kids? They’ll have plenty of time to work when they’re adults.”
Benjamin sighed. “Will, you’ve been gone a long time. Things are different now. Though I can see we’re not the only ones who’ve seen some hard times.” He glanced pointedly at Will’s motionless right arm, and Will grimaced. He’d lost use of the shoulder when he was shot in Mexico, and it hadn’t healed the way he hoped it would. Truthfully, one of the reasons he’d come back to Boston was to seek medical help for the issue. Although he loved Texas and the surrounding area, the medical knowledge left some things to be desired.
“Yeah, I’ve seen some rough times as well,” he muttered. “The arm is just the physical proof.”
Benjamin nodded. “That’s what I figured, son. Come to the back, have a seat, and I’ll boil some water for coffee. We need to talk.”
Will nodded and followed his uncle, still wondering what had happened. Benjamin began explaining as he boiled the water, and the story he told was just as bad as Will had feared. While he’d been gone, his grandparents had both passed away, leaving their children in difficult straights.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he gasped, surprised and horrified.
“Will, they both passed away within two months of each other. We talked about sending word, but decided we shouldn’t tell you at that time. We’d heard about the Gomez Gang, and knew that you had your hands full. Then we received your message about your marriage to Mary. Well, the truth is that we just didn’t want to trouble you with sad news and put more on your mind. Besides, what could you do? Texas is a long way away. It would have taken you weeks to get back. What good would that have done? Just made you upset and anxious when you had other things on your mind.”
Will leaned back, thinking. Uncle Benjamin was right; being in Texas had meant that he was out of touch with the family, and couldn’t get to them immediately if they needed him. It was a bargain he’d signed willingly, and he’d known what it meant. He’d just never imagined that he’d return to Boston to find both his grandparents gone. Still, there was nothing he could have done. Even if they’d sent him a telegram, both his grandmother and grandfather might have been gone before he arrived. And he would have endangered the Gomez case.
That thought led to other unwelcome thoughts – if he hadn’t caught the Gomez Gang, they might not have come after Mary, and she would still be alive. He would never have met Elizabeth. His shoulder would still be in working order. How many more people who have died at the hands of those ruthless bandits? He shook his head and shut the thoughts off, realizing quickly that they would do him no good, and turned his attention back to the tragedy that had happened in Boston.
“What about Hannah and Uncle Frank?” he asked suddenly. “Don’t tell me … They didn’t…” His mind refused to complete the thought, and he looked to Benjamin, praying for good news.
Benjamin shook his head. “They’re still alive, though they’re failing. They’re back at home, and I’m sure they’ll be glad to see you.”
At these words, Will stood and began to move toward the door, anxious to see the man and woman who had raised him. Before he could leave, though, Benjamin took him by the arm. “Will, what happened to your arm?” he asked gently. “What’s happened to you? Hannah will want to know.
“I’ll think of something to tell her on the way,” Will muttered, jerking his arm from Benjamin’s grasp and darting out the door. He wanted to see his aunt and uncle, and he wasn’t going to let Benjamin stall him.
“Willie!” Benjamin shouted after him.
Will was already out the door and sprinting the several blocks to Frank and Hannah’s house. He ran as quickly as he could, disregarding the flashing lights and shouts of the passersby. He heard two trolley cars slam on their breaks and blare their horns, but he paid no attention. He needed to get to Frank and Hannah to see them, before it was too late. If they were ill with the same thing that had taken his grandparents, and they were already failing, he might not have much time. He could hear Benjamin shouting out to him from the store, but ignored him as well; Uncle Benjamin had never agreed with Will’s way of rushing through life, and was probably just getting ready to lecture him.
He didn’t have time to turn around, much less listen to another lecture.
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