* * *
By twelve thirty the Kingsford order was complete. Missy and Doyle had been in the store to dust and sweep but they left before Aaron returned. Cathy left to drive the wagon to the Manor. Aaron decided it was time to eat.
The church bell rang at twelve fifty-five, and people walked toward the church. As usual, the worshipers were mostly farmers and women because the Lady's mantle was fertility. A scattering of others attended as well because many people worshipped both the Lord Maker and His Lady Mistress. Aaron attended the Lord's service on Sunday since that service was early and short, often lasting less than an hour, while the service for the Lady demanded no less than four hours of the day. As a rule, because of the crazy mixed up religious schedule, Friday afternoons were traditionally slow for business.
Wearing trail dust and an uneasy frown, her long red hair awry, Miss Hawks came into the store, waved Cathy away, and headed straight for Aaron.
"Mister Turner." She seemed nervous. Her eyes did not quite meet his. Flitting around the store, they refused to settle in any one place.
"Miss Hawks, can I help you?"
"Yes sir." She shuffled her feet and then stood tall. Her shoulders stiffened. "Mister Kingsford sent me, sir."
"Oh?"
"Sir, Mister Kingsford has discovered from your driver that the last several shipments we received from you have been purchased on credit. He has been informed that he has a substantial bill due."
"He does," Aaron agreed, wondering how Cathy had managed to get past the harridan in order to reach the Mister. "The Manor has been on my books for about the last six months."
"Sir, may I speak in private?"
"I suppose. We could step into the back room. No one ever enters there except for me." He led the way.
"So," he said once the door closed, "what is this about?"
"Sir, Mister Turner, Mistress Amelda Kingsford was supposed to pay cash for those supplies. Mister Kingsford gave her money at the beginning of the year to run the household. After your delivery girl informed him of the extent of his bill he confronted Mistress Kingsford and discovered that she used the money to buy an emerald necklace. He was going to make her give you the necklace as payment for his bill, but upon inspecting the necklace he discovered that it is a fake."
"I see no real problem here," Aaron told her. "I've been covering his account for several months. I can carry it longer." After all, he could well afford to carry it longer, especially after the five pounds of silver he had just finished bringing back from base the night before. "If Mister Kingsford wishes, he can pay a small part of his bill now, and I will wait on the rest."
'Sir, I have been instructed to tell you that Mister Kingsford is a rich man, but his riches are presently in land, houses and cattle. He has asked me to inform you that he currently has very little available money. Since it will be several months before he makes a large sale he has instructed me to deliver a matched set of hunters to you. They are of the best blood, well trained, and will react to all the standard signals. They are intelligent as well as friendly. In the east they would sell for nine silver eight and three each. The Mister estimates his bill is near eight silver so he asks that you accept the hunters as payment in full.
Aaron hated being railroaded. "His bill is currently eleven silvers two and change. We both know that horses sell for only a bit more than half of an eastern price in this area."
"Yes sir, but if you do not mind my saying so, Mister Kingsford has only sold his horses in the east so he has no idea what the local prices are."
"Damn it!"
She stepped back in surprise.
"I know he hasn't sold a thing back east in several years," Aaron snapped. "People have talked about it."
Face pale, her lips pressed thin and trembled with repressed anger. "Sir, I am only the messenger."
Aaron fought his blood pressure down, counted to five and drew in a deep breath. "I know. I know. Let it go. The thing is, I don't mind losing a little on people who have nothing--but to be skinned by a rich man and his stupid wives is too much. Okay, tell him I will accept his horses as payment in full but his credit has just come to a complete halt. There will be no more of it. You can also tell him that I have run his errands for the last time. In the future he can arrange to pick up his own goods and have his own people deliver them."
"I will tell him, sir."
Her tone told Aaron that she was very well not going to tell Mister Kingsford anything of the kind. He fought down a very real impulse to throw the woman out of his store, but he had already released a good deal of his anger, and she was correct. She was only the messenger. Besides, his language had been almost unforgivably rude. If he released any more venom he could very well start a social feud that he would lose. Still, he did hate being railroaded. On the other hand, he really had very little choice in the matter.
Aaron showed Miss Hawks out of the store as politely as possible. Outside, Jorrin stood beside a pair of unsaddled horses rein-tied to the hitching rail. Holding the hoof of one black horse in his hand, he looked up when Aaron approached.
"Looks like these shoes are worn. They need to be replaced soon or you're going to have some real problems."
Aaron snorted. "It figures. Why don't you shoe them for me? I will pay." He was really getting tired of that phrase. It suddenly seemed that he always paid for everything.
Jorrin looked puzzled. "Is something wrong?"
"Ahhhh--I'm sorry," Aaron relented. "I'll tell you my secret for the secret you gave me. I know nothing about horses. They frighten me."
Jorrin nodded. "Nothing to be ashamed of in that. Tell you what, since you're a big city person I'll see to these for you. After I shoe them I'll stick them in the stable, and you can figure out what you want to do with them. If you need any advice I'll be glad to help."
"I'd really, really appreciate that."
"No problem. The reason I came over was to tell you that I thought about your offer. Is it possible for you to send Miss Bayne over this evening? I'll be glad to pay for her time."
His mood lightening, Aaron smiled. "Sure I will, as long as she is available. You'll have to arrange for payment with her, but I'm sure she'll not cost you too much."
Jorrin set down the horse's hoof, stepped forward, and held out his hand. "It's a deal. A handshake to seal the bargain and honor between the two of us."
"A deal." Aaron reluctantly accepted Jorrin's hand and felt calluses that were hard as the bronze Jorrin forged. The man's square fingers were fat with strength. There was no doubt in Aaron's mind that the man had the ability to crush Aaron's hand with his grip.
Jorrin gave Aaron's hand a gentle, almost womanly squeeze. He looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Perhaps," he said finally, "I could call you a friend from this moment on."
Suddenly feeling the seriousness of this moment, Aaron looked very long at the older man.
"You may," he said after a long enough pause to show that he had given the matter considerable thought.
"Then, Aaron, may I see to the care of your horses?"
"Yes, Jorrin, you may."
And then the two of them stood there in the street, staring at each other and grinning like they were idiots. Aaron was not too sure the description was inaccurate in his case.