“So, how are you two?” Carson said, turning a chair around and sitting down.
“Good,” Oscar said, sitting on the edge of the bed and acting like we had not been cuddling and kissing on it together when Carson arrived. “We’re gettin’ to know our neighbors.”
“You are?” Carson said. “That’s wonderful.”
“Yeah, Irene cut my hair. See?” Oscar ran his fingers through his hair—what was left of it.
“Looks very dapper.”
“Why, thank you.”
“I suppose it’s real good to have neighbors out here.”
“Especially when they have a proper house with different rooms and even a piano,” I said, smiling at Oscar.
“I’m glad they’ve been so welcomin’ to you two. I don’t know them all that well. They generally keep to themselves.”
“Well, we’re good friends with ’em now. We spent Christmas Eve at their place,” Oscar said. “T’was nice to be so welcome, wasn’t it, Jimmy?”
“Sure.”
Carson looked from one to the other of us. “Well,” he said, “I’m glad that I don’t have to worry about you.”
When the coffee had boiled, I poured it into cups and served it out.
“Ah, that’s nice,” Carson murmured. “You like it strong like I do.”
I shrugged. “No point in making weak coffee. A cup of coffee should make you perk up and take notice.”
Carson laughed. He looked about at our little abode, and I followed his gaze. That’s when I noticed the jar of saddle grease on the bedside table and just about died.
“It’s real nice and cozy in here. I’m glad we were able to get your stove put in and the sink pump working,” he said, meeting my gaze and not indicating any kind of unsavory suspicion.
Thank God. If he did mention it, I’d just say I was sitting on the bed cleaning some of the tack, which seemed plausible, considering the limited space we had. I tried not to think of it and hoped Oscar wouldn’t see it, panic and do something even more suspicious, like get up and try to hide it. T’was only a jar of saddle grease. I expect a regular person wouldn’t think anything of it.
“Yeah, so’m I. Thank you so much for all your help, Carson. We wouldn’t have been able to get this far without you and Tim Jensen,” I said.
“I’m happy to do it, Jimmy. Seems a way to make amends for what happened to Oscar’s uncle.”
“T’wasn’t your fault,” Oscar said firmly, sipping his coffee.
“Well, now, I suppose I know that. But I keep thinking that one or the other of us could have ridden out to check on things, like I did today.”
“Everything looks clearer in retrospect,” I said.
Oscar screwed his face up. “What’s that mean?”
“It means, when you see everything laid out in the past, it’s easier to see what might have been done differently. But when you’re caught up in it, it ain’t always so obvious.”
“Oh.”
Carson eyed the slate that Oscar had left on the table. It still had our names written out together, and I hastened to explain.
“I’m teachin’ Oscar to read and to write,” I said. “He ain’t had any proper learning, and I mean to fix that.”
Carson moved his gaze to Oscar. “That’s very responsible, Oscar. There’re a lot of people who can’t read and write, but ‘tis a good skill to have, especially now the world’s getting more and more confusing.”
“Yeah, I reckon. It ain’t easy,” Oscar bemoaned.
