All in Providence

By Hunter M.

Chapter I ~ The Widow

  The stage coach swayed back and forth ceaselessly. Mitch, a young man of twenty-six, gazed out the window absentmindedly. His bright blue eyes focused on the soft white clouds forming in the western sky. Eventually, they wandered to the quiet old woman sitting across from him.

She was knitting one in a pair of forest green mittens. She had pale wrinkled skin, reddish gray hair, and deep green eyes. Her traveling dress was simple, but neat. It was made of plain black flax with a delicate cameo pinned at her throat. The rhythmic clink of her needles and the rocking of the coach nearly put him to sleep, but the driver unexpectedly hit a chuck hole, pulling Mitch from his momentary daze and causing the lady's knitting to fall from her lap.

“Here you are ma'am,” Mitch said politely as he bent to retrieve her yarn.

“Danke,”she replied, adding, “its quite a rough ride.”

Mitch nodded his agreement, still feeling groggy.

“I don't kare much for travel,” she continued, obviously hoping for a more social drive.

“Where are you headed?” Mitch inquired.

“Fresno. I hope to visit relatives zere,” she answered, a soft German accent trimmed her aged voice. “How about sie jung mann?”

“I'm going home. We live just outside of Fresno.”

“Oh! Sie do! Do sie know a family namet Hawkins?” she asked hopefully, the clinking of her needles continued as they talked.

Hawkins...Hawkins...

Mitch turned the name over in his mind with a thoughtful look spread across his face.

“Do you mean Lucy Hawkins?” he asked doubtfully.

“Ja! Ja! Know her sie?”she exclaimed excitedly.

“Know her? She married my brother, Justin!”

“Oh,” she sighed, “Lucy's marriet.”

Mitch chose not to mention Sammy. If Lucy is her relative he will be a pleasant surprise.

“Ant Valter Hawkins, do sie know him?”

Her eyes gleamed with hope as she spoke the question. Mitch was sorry he had to disappoint her. With that she sat silently thinking, she dropped a stitch in her mitten and quickly sought to recover her mistake. Moments passed.

“Oh excuse me,'' she said suddenly, ”I'm Frau Brandt.”

“Pleased to meet you Mrs. Brandt, I'm Mitch Carter.”

Mitch was unsure as to what the word Frau meant but he thought Mrs. was a pretty good guess.

“Danke for your help Herr Carter. Lucy ist my niece,”she explained, “my younger brozer brought his vife to America schortly after her birs. My elder brozer, Valter, kame vith zem,”she paused, apparently focused on her mitten, “I hafe been lookink for zem since my husbant died. I have learned zat Vilhem ant Adele are in Fresno. I vas hoping Valter vas shtill vith zem.”

Mitch made no reply, he could see the poor woman was starved for company and the thought that her dear niece was his sister-in-law made him feel like family to the lonely widow.

Chapter II ~ Detoured Stage

    

Mitch again let his eyes wander out the window. The afore said clouds still held their wispy appearance. Mitch watched them for a short while before his eyes met with an upcoming town. His wondering mind snapped to attention as he realized the countryside was unfamiliar; the upcoming town unfamiliar.

This is supposed to be Fresno!

Mitch popped his head out the window with the intent to question the driver but quickly pulled it back.

The stage will probably stop anyway. I can wait.

Mitch sat patiently waiting for the driver to reign in the horses. Once stopped, Mitch jumped out. He quickly turned to help Mrs. Brandt alight.

“Mister, I thought this was supposed to be Fresno?” Mitch said inquiringly.

“We've been makin' a regular detour several miles back, bandits have been hangin' 'round.”

We must have turned while I was dozing.

The man continued, “Fresno is a couple hours south, but we should be there by dark. Just gotta change horses.” The driver took a step towards the stage depot.

“Sir,”

The man turned around slightly irritated,

”is there a telegraph office in this town?”

The driver nodded across the street. Mitch thanked him and turned to Mrs. Brandt.

“I'm going to send a wire to my family,” he motioned in the direction of the office as he spoke, “letting them know I'll be late. Would you like to come?”

“Nein, nein, zat's alright. I'll be fine here.”

Mitch smiled as he began to cross the dusty street.

Chapter III ~ Ruffians

Mitch stepped onto the wooden walk way that lined the shops. He noticed two men sitting near the telegraph office. One was tall and stout, his shirt looked as if it had been blue at one time, but now was so dirty and worn that it was difficult to discern its color. His face was scruffy and unwashed. The second man looked much like the first, only he was of average height and wore a scraggly beard. Mitch politely nodded a greeting to them as he walked by.

“Now, hold it dere boy!” the first man hollered in a gruff voice.

Mitch turned on his heel to face the men that were approaching him.

“Now, I don't know if you know dis but we don't allow people with dusty boots to walk on dis here walk way.”

His companion nodded his head and continued, “Yep, it gets our veiw dirty, ya see.”

At that he gave a grim sort of smile exposing a row of half rotten teeth.

“Alright gentlemen,” Mitch said aloud but inwardly was thinking, These men are anything but gentlemen! He stepped onto the street, tipped his hat, and continued his walk.

The two men looked at each other in shock.

“Jasper! Dis one didn't do it!” the bearded man nearly shouted to his friend.

 This was a regular occurrence in Strongsville and each episode ended in a fight which landed all involved in jail, until a fine for disturbing the peace could be made. The sheriff knew that it was Jasper and Jonny who provoked the fight, but by the time he got there, the victim was so riled up that he needed a bit of a cooling off anyway. Since these two “gentleman” didn't have any money they just stayed in jail for a while, which meant free meals and no work.

“Well Jonny, “the big man began, “I think I just thought o' 'nother way to squeeze a bit more dan a meal out of this 'un.

Chapter IV ~ In the Alley

Mitch exited the telegraph office and began the short walk to the stage depot. He glanced to his right uneasily. Good their gone.

Mitch felt a tight grip on his left arm. He snapped his head to the left.

Oh no, he groaned inwardly.

“Boy,” Jasper began, “you didn't seem to get de idea. You are supposed to put up a fight.”

Mitch was extremely confused. Why would anyone in this town want to fight him? He's only been in it for fifteen minutes!

“Mister, I need to get going, my stage leaves any minute,” he tried to explain.

Mitch freed his arm. Jasper and Jonny exchanged looks before they snatch both of his arms and began pulling him in the direction of an alley. No one seemed to notice or care. Mitch sank to the ground, throwing Jonny off balance. He yanked his right arm from the weaker man, and threw his fist into Jasper's abdomen. The man immediately loosened his grip.

Mitch thought he could probably hold his own with one of them, but not two, so he bolted for the stage. A wagon pulled out in front of him causing him to stop. By now Jonny had recovered his shock. He dove for Mitch's ankle, pulling him to the ground. Mitch fell face first. He could feel blood trickling from his nose. Jasper reached Jonny's side. The two men dragged Mitch to an alley close by. Once in the shadows, Jonny held Mitch back while Jasper took a swing at him.

Click.

Mitch heard the sound of a gun being cocked.

“I think that'll be enough,” a calm voice commanded from the shadows.

***

“Excuse me, ma'am,” the stage driver addressed himself to Mrs. Brandt, “but we need to get goin'.”

Mrs. Brandt gave a sigh as she boarded the stage. Vere ist zat jung mann? He schould be komink!

Once in, she turned to the diver. “Schouldn't vee vait for Herr Carter?”

“Lady, its a long way to Fresno and I don't wana be getin' there in the dark. If that young fella wants to be stuck here for a few days that's his buisness.”

“Shtuck?” Mrs. Brant questioned.

“There won't be any stage leavin' or comin to this place for two or three days and I don't think the town's folk will be givin' up any o' deir horses,” the man explained impatiently.

“Oh, I see.” she mumbled under her breath as the man slammed the door behind her.

Gott, bitte schützen Sie Mitch.

Chapter V ~ Rescued

   

 “I said, that'll be enough!” The stranger pointed his pistol at Jasper. “You, over there.” He motioned toward the wall where Jonny was standing. Mitch walked in the direction of the stranger, correctly presuming him to be an ally.

“Thank you Mister,” Mitch said simply.

The stranger acknowledged his thanks and told Jasper and Jonny to walk towards the jail. Once in the light of the street, Mitch observed his rescuer to be no older than himself. He was tall with a mop of curly blond hair and familiar green eyes. The small party march into the jail house.

Mitch and the stranger explained what happened to the sheriff who immediately locked up Jasper and Jonny. The two young men once again stepped out into the sun. The stranger let out an exaggerated sigh, then turned to Mitch.

“I'm Henry,” he stretched out his right hand.

“Mitch.”

The two shook hands.

“That was some mess you were in,” Henry stated.

“Yep, thanks again for helping me out of it, but I'm sure glad you didn't shoot one of them.”

“Shoot them! I couldn't have done that if I had to.” Henry held the gun out for Mitch to examine.

Mitch did not have to take it to know Henry was right. That old thing looked like it had been left out on a street for 100 years!

“Where on earth did you get that?” Mitch asked in a teasing tone.

“My father's a rag picker. He goes through waste bins and collects anything he can fix up to sell.” Henry fiddled with the rusty gun as he spoke, ”I normally just help him with the fixing, but today Father asked me to start picking. The telegraph operator always has something in his bin. He lives with his grandmother and she has got an attic full of stuff she wants to get rid of.”

Mitch smirked. “Well, I should be going. I don't want my stage to leave without-.” Mitch's words trailed of as he stared at the empty stage depot.

Henry nodded. “I saw the stage leave and there won't be another one for a few days.” He explained.

“Is there a livery stable?” Mitch asked calmly. Henry shook his head.

“No; and I don't think any one would sell you a horse, you being a stranger around here. Which way are you headed?”

“Fresno.”

Henry's face broke into a wide grin.

“Well then Mitch, your welcome to come with us. Father and I are going to Fresno tomorrow to sell some of our goods.”

Mitch quickly thought through the idea. “Sure! As long as I won't be imposing?”

“No, of course not. Father and I will be glad for the company.”

Chapter VI ~ Old Picker

Henry led Mitch to a simple cabin on the outskirts of town. A fluffy German Shepherd raced up the porch to greet them.

“Hello there Rulf,” he said as he returned the dog's greeting with a scratch behind his ear.

The heavy wooden door creaked open and a tall old man stepped out. Henry faced him.

“Father, this is Mitch...”Henry turned to Mitch with a puzzled look.

“Carter,” Mitch finished.

He held out his hand. The old man shook it with an iron grip. “Efery one arount here kalls me Picker,”the old man said.

Mitch was surprised to hear his thick German accent.

The three men entered the cozy cabin. Rulf slipped in between their feet. Tools lay strewn about the table. The western windows let in a stream of golden sunlight, which Rulf was quick to occupied.

The three of them sat down in the small dining room. Henry and Mitch once again related the events of that afternoon. Picker fetched a damp cloth for Mitch to wipe the dried blood off his face. Shortly after, Henry began clearing the tools off the table. Mitch noticed Picker take some painted plates off a shelf.

“What can I do?” Mitch asked.

“Here,” Henry thrust a heavy wooden box in his arms, “put that in the corner,” he motioned across the small room.

Mitch returned to the table, which Picker had set with the plates, bread, cheese, and milk. The three of them enjoyed the simple meal seasoned with hearty conversation. As Henry and Mitch began cleaning up the remains of the meal, Picker moved toward the unlit fire place. He took up a long wooden box. After a moment he drew out a hand carved fiddle. Picker tightened the bow, plucked a few strings, then began a lively German tune. Rulf perked up his ears up, seeming to join in the merriment.

Chapter VII ~ Reunited

The three men set out for Fresno early in the morning. The large cart traveled much slower than the stage, but much smoother. It was pulled by two smoky gray gypsy vanners. Their flowy manes reminded Mitch of his horse, Chase. Clouds filled the morning sky causing the country side to have a foggy appearance. Hours later, Picker pulled the cart near the Fresno hotel. Henry and Mitch jumped down. Picker climbed off the cart more carefully.

“Herr Carter!”

Mitch turned his head to see Mrs. Brandt exiting the hotel. He walked toward her.

“I sought somezink happenet to du ven you misset das shtage,” Mrs. Brandt grasped Mitch's arm as she spoke.

“Well, I did have a bit of trouble,” Mitch shot a quick glace at Henry, “but this gentleman helped me out of it.”Mitch held out his arm in the direction of Henry.

“Mrs. Brandt, this is Henry...”Mitch could not help but chuckle as he got stuck in the same predicament as his friend just the day before.

“Hawkins. Henry Hawkins,” he smiled as he introduced himself, “and this is my father Wal-”

Henry stopped short. Picker swiftly made his way to the old woman. Without warning he threw his arms around her as Mrs. Brandt cried for joy. Mitch thought through the scene before him. Piecing it all together, his face broke out into a large smile. He burst out laughing at seeing Henry's confused look. Mrs. Brandt contained herself, but did not try to hide her joy.

“Son,” Picker began, “zis ist your Aunt Tilly.”

Henry looked at Mitch in disbelief. “Now, how did you know she was my aunt?”

“I met her on the stage. She said she was visiting her niece (my brother's wife) and brother, Walter Hawkins.”

“Vell Junge,” Picker said to Mitch, “I'm sure glat du misset your sctage. If sie vere not vith us vee just might hafe settlet for a town kloser by.”

“Mr. Hawkins,” Mitch said with a wide grin, “it was all in God's providence!”