Then the man's mind seemed to clear. "What the hell?" he said, then stepped between the boys and pulled them up by the backs of their shirts. When they tried to go for each other with outstretched hands, the man shook the boys as though they were wet puppies.
"Go home," he said to the blond boy, then released him, and when the boy looked as though he might strike Jeremy again, the man gave him a look that made him retreat. In one last act of defiance, the blond boy stopped by a woman wearing an extraordinary dress of shiny red cloth, took a whiskey bottle out of her arms, and downed half its contents in one swig. With a smirk directed at Jeremy, he shoved the bottle back into the woman's hand, then swaggered off as best he could. Which wasn't easy, since he was limping and one side of his face was swelling rapidly.
Kathryn ran to her son, pulling him from the man's grasp, and threw her arms around him, kissing his face copiously while she tried to ascertain where he was hurt. "Oh, darling, did that boy hurt you? I'll get you to a doctor and I promise we'll get out of here as soon as possible. Darling—"
"Mother!" Jeremy said stiffly, very aware of the townspeople watching and laughing at this display of motherly affection. Considering that Jeremy was nearly as tall as his mother, yet she was cooing as though he were three years old, they were quite enjoying the spectacle.
The blond man came up behind Kathryn, and as he put his arm about her waist he said, "Honey, why don't you—"
Maybe it was the proprietary way the tall man slipped his arm around Kathryn's waist, or maybe it was his tone of ownership (the very same tone another man had once used with her), but she turned on him, twisting so his arm no longer touched her. "I don't need you or anyone else to tell me how to raise my son."
"I didn't mean…" the man began, but Kathryn didn't want to hear what he had to say.
"Could someone show me where the doctor is?" she asked.
"Take your pick of saloons, honey," called a man.
With her arm firmly around Jeremy's shoulders, Kathryn led him from the crowd.
"Mother," Jeremy said plaintively, "will you stop fidgeting? I have told you that I am perfectly all right."
Using her best handkerchief, she again wiped at her son's cheek. "You do realize that what I said, I said in the heat of the moment. You and I must remain in this town, at least for a while, at least until I can find a way to earn enough money to…" She halted. In the last three hours she had been offered several ways to earn money in this revolting town.
After she had taken Jeremy from the laughing crowd, she had searched in vain for a doctor. It wasn't until she was at the end of the main street, Eureka, that she came to a stone wall patrolled by armed guards. Looking over the wall at what lay on the other side was like standing in hell and looking at heaven. Across the wall seemed to be a pretty little village complete with a library and a church and several houses with white picket fences and flowers growing in front.
"Back on your side, sister!" said a burly man with a rifle, glaring at the two of them.
For a moment, Kathryn's mind was transported back to Ireland and the laws against trespassing on O'Connor land: O'Connor laws, O'Connor punishments.
When Kathryn was speechless and Jeremy could see the blood rising in her neck, he pulled himself up to his full height and announced that they wanted to see Mr. Cole Jordan.
"And what's your business with him?" said a second guard, who had come to see what the problem was.
"My mother is to teach his son," Jeremy said proudly.
At that the two guards looked at each other and started to laugh. "You?" one said.
"Jordan told us you were—" He was laughing too hard to finish the sentence.
"Got any guns on you?"
"I hardly think so!" Kathryn said, at last recovering her powers of speech.
"Think we oughta search her?" the first man said, then the other said, "Not unless you want Jordan cuttin' your throat."
With that pronouncement, the men parted and allowed the two of them to pass, only vaguely pointing the way toward the Jordan house.
Now, she and Jeremy were standing on the porch outside a large, rambling old house, and she was trying to make both of them presentable.
"Yes, I understand that we can't leave now. I'm not a child, you know," Jeremy said.
"You wouldn't have known it this morning. I still can't believe that you attacked that boy like that. Whatever possessed you?"
"He impugned your honor."
"Really, Jeremy, this is not the seventeenth century, and you do not have to defend my honor."
"I wouldn't have had to if you hadn't…" He hesitated as though he still couldn't believe what he'd seen. "If you hadn't kissed that man."