Jasper was as good as his word and returned in the early afternoon, carrying a bouquet of flowers. He'd made up his mind he wasn't going to put up with any more nonsense from her. She needed him, whether she was willing to admit it or not. He wanted her. Many marriages had been built on much less than that.
Pushing through the batwing doors, he moved past the bar and bounded up the stairs nearly skidding to a stop when he saw the long line of men waiting in the hallway. Squaring his shoulders, he took a deep calming breath, and marched past them, praying he wasn't looking at his competition. At her door he rapped once and walked in.
Clementine was lounging in her bed wearing a pretty blue bed shawl around her shoulders. Sitting much too close to her and holding her hand was a man he didn't recognize. Clean shaven and wearing crisp, obviously new clothes, the man ignored him.
"Are you sure that's what you want to do?" the man asked gently.
The moment Jasper heard the distinctive gravelly voice, he knew it was Whiskers. A much younger looking version of the grizzled old man, but him just the same. The change was remarkable.
"I'm sure," Clem murmured. "Jasper will take good care of us."
"Humph, well if he don't; you know where to find me."
"Are you leaving for Ohio right away?" Clem asked.
"Nope, staying for the hanging. I want to make sure that son of a bitch pays for what he done to you and your Pa, Miss Crystal. The circuit judge will be through here next week. With that signed confession and what the rest of us heard and saw, a trial will be over in two shakes of a lamb's tail."
"Thank you, Whiskers. I want you to know I appreciate all you've done for me," she said with a smile.
"Me? Why it's you who helped me. If it wasn't for you, I'd be headed north getting ready for a long spell of lonesome instead of back home to see the handsomest woman east of the Rockies, not counting you, of course," he assured her, blushing a bit.
"Can I ask you something?"
"I reckon you could ask me to do anything, Miss Crystal."
"What's your real name, Whiskers?" she asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.
"Well, ma'am," he began, clearing his throat and releasing her hand to tug on his collar. "This tain't common knowledge, but seeing as how I'm leaving I don't suppose it would hurt none to say. It's Bartholomew, Bartholomew T. Grogan."
"Well, Bartholomew, my name is Clementine Eliza McKay and it's very nice to count you as a dear friend." Offering her hand, she took his big hand in both of hers and held it warmly for a moment. "You'll write won't you and tell me how everything works out?" she asked with a worried frown.
"You bet I will," he promised. "Now, I'd best get on out of here. There's a line of visitors out there who are chomping at the bit to see you're all right. I'll stop by again soon."
Jasper made himself comfortable on the bench to her dressing table.
Gerald came in next, presenting her with a book of poetry by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
"I hope you're feeling well, Miss Crystal," he said, taking a seat by her bed. "You sure gave us all a fright last night."
"I'm feeling much better," she assured him.
"That's good, that's good," he repeated nervously as he glanced at Jasper. "I didn't mean to intrude, but I wanted to make sure you were all right."
"Thank you for coming and for this lovely gift. I'll treasure it," she said, holding it close to her chest.
"I hope you enjoy it, and no more going out on that roof," he scolded. "It's not safe."
"I won't, I promise," she said with a wink. "As long as no more peeping Toms come around that is."
Jasper snorted and crossed his arms, returning the other man's nod as he left the room.
"Miss Crystal," a young man cried as he rushed into the room next, waving a letter. "She said yes. I can hardly believe it."
"That's wonderful, George. I'm so happy for you," she replied, taking his hand.
"Are you all right, ma'am? I wasn't here last night, but as soon as I heard the story this morning, I had to come and see for myself."
"I'm fine and very happy for you. Are you going back home then?"
"Yes, quick as I can. My mine's about played out anyway. I'm awful sorry about what happened to your Pa, ma'am," he said sadly. "If there's anything I can do for you…"
"Thank you, George, but there's nothing anyone can do. It's enough to know the man who murdered him will pay for it," she replied softly.
"Oh, I almost forgot. I brought you a little something," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a golden brown ribbon. "I thought it matched your eyes."
"It's lovely. I'll wear it right now, "she insisted, lifting her hair and tying it around her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Jasper rolling his and glared.
"Your sweetheart is a lucky girl getting such a thoughtful young man for a husband," she cooed.
"Aw, shucks, Miss Crystal. I'm the lucky one. Lucky you taught me to read and write and real lucky she said yes. I don't even know how to really thank you."
"Knowing you're happy will be thanks enough," she assured him with a smile.
***
It went pretty much like that for the rest of the afternoon.