Robin and Aunt Martha found out the next day that their loans to the bank had been paid in full and the monies removed from their accounts had been restored. Robin was nonplussed. “Who did that?” she asked Eric Wilcox.
“An anonymous donor,” he said with a smile.
Rob…She wanted to cry. But she never said anything to him about it.
Aunt Martha said, “I’ll bet that nice Mr. Wilcox just forgave the notes because he had taken our monies out of our account. That was his way of repaying us.”
Robin didn’t think that was what happened, but she left it at that.
With the substantial deposit that Rob made to the Whitewater Bank, it was now on solid enough footing that people had confidence in it again. Wilcox had an independent auditor check the books and make it publicly known that the bank was on a very sound financial foundation and that there was no reason for anyone not to trust it. With that, dozens of people who had withdrawn their funds re-deposited them, and that made the bank even stronger.
Robin’s store did very well, thank you. She proved to be quite an innovative entrepreneur and always topped $500 in sales each month. With the railroad being built and scheduled to open by mid-summer, the town would probably grow even more and that would increase her profits. She was very happy with how her business was developing.
Of course, with Randolph Grey dead, the protection racket ceased. Sheriff Bernstein had done as Rob suggested and announced that the mayor and his wife had died in a tragic shootout in a holdup at their home. Frankly, there weren’t a whole lot of people ready to commit suicide at his death—if you’ll pardon the sarcasm—and when John Jones no longer showed up demanding the protection money each month, most folks added two and two together.
“It was pretty obvious who was behind it,” Len Kramer said to Robin one day. “Kind of lucky, I guess, that he was killed in that shootout, though I wish there had been a less tragic way of ending the racket.”
“Well, the only other way would have been for him to go to jail, and I don’t think he would have wanted that.”
“Yeah, probably better off the way it happened.” Nobody, of course, ever knew of the part Robin and Rob had played in that whole matter.
Thomas Bering was never caught and prosecuted for embezzling funds at Kilmer Mining. There was a strong suspicion that he fled back to Mexico—if he had ever really been there in the first place.
Many of the people of Whitewater remembered Rob Conners, by reputation, and those who recalled the events of the past year were surprised that he was still alive. The news spread fairly rapidly that he had been pardoned, and folks were happy to hear about it.
“You done the world two big favors, Conners, when you plugged Wilson Brant and Rip Slade. I’m glad to know ye’re alive an’ well,” one old timer told him.
“I’m glad to know it, too,” Rob said with a smile. “Thinkin’ I was dead didn’t sit too well with me.”
Rob and Robin spent a lot of time together the first couple of weeks he was there. In fact, he would be waiting for her outside her shop every night when she got off work. The other men who had been in Robin’s life, realizing what was happening, graciously gave her and Rob the time and space they needed. Sometimes they would go out to eat, but usually they would just go to Aunt Martha’s house and Robin would fix supper, if her aunt hadn’t already done so, which she usually had. Aunt Martha thought Rob had hung the moon.
“He’s such a nice, sweet man,” she said. “It’s hard to believe he used to be an outlaw and a kidnapper.”
“He was never an outlaw, Auntie,” Robin replied. And then, reflectively, she said, “Sometimes people are forced by circumstances to do things that they wouldn’t normally do. That’s just the way life seems to be sometimes. And that’s what happened to Rob.” She thought about Adam Stouffer’s sister. And it almost happened to me, too…
“Yes. Yes, I suppose that’s true. Well, I’m glad it worked out for him. It’s so obvious that Mr. Conners just absolutely adores you. He can hardly take his eyes off of you.”
“Oh, Auntie, that’s not true,” but Robin blushed a bit. He DOES seem to look at me a lot…
Aunt Martha just smiled. She knew.
One night, a couple of weeks after he had been there, they had dinner at Aunt Martha’s and then she went to bed early so Rob and Robin could be together. They laid down together, face-to-face, on the couch. He was just looking at her like he always did; he wouldn’t take her eyes off her. In a way, it made Robin feel a little self-conscious. Until…
“Why are you always looking at me?”
“Why would I ever want to look at anything else?”
She smiled. He’s so wonderful…so wonderful…so wonderful…
Rob had found a boarding house to stay in for a little while; it was cheaper than the hotel. He wasn’t sure yet exactly what Robin thought of him. Well, he could tell she liked him and she seemed to enjoy his company, but he just…wasn’t sure. He thought she was absolutely wonderful and he couldn’t be with her enough. Julie all over again…except Robin’s different…she’s just…wonderful…I just don’t want to get my hopes up too high…and be hurt again…Twice in one year had been pretty rough…
Robin had a doubt or two as well. He’s always looking at me. He says the nicest, sweetest things to me…but…does he really mean them? He’s still living in that boarding house…he hasn’t found a job…he won’t tell me what he’s going to do…is he going to stay? Why won’t he tell me something?…
Actions speak louder than words…
It was a lovely spring day, cool, a soft wind blowing. That evening, when Robin came out of her store after closing, Rob, as always, was waiting for her. But he was staring across the street with a thoughtful expression on his face.
“What is it?” Robin asked, looking in the direction that Rob was.
Rob pointed. “You see that empty building across the street?”
“Yes.”
“You know what I think I’ll do?”
“What?”
He looked at her and smiled. “I think I’ll buy that building and open a men’s shop. Call it “For Gentlemen Only.”
Robin smiled. “You think so?”
“Yeah. And you know that house for sale two doors down from Aunt Martha’s?”
Tears came to Robin’s eyes. She felt knew what was coming now. “Yes, I know it,” she answered softly.
“I’m going to buy that, too.” He came close to her and looked down at her, brushing her hair. “But only on one condition.”
“What’s that?” Robin replied, searching his eyes, though that was hard to do through the tears that filled her own.
“I’m not going to live in it alone.”
Robin dropped her head. The tears started rolling down her cheeks. “You’re not?”
“No, I’m not.” Rob put his hand under her chin, and lifted her face up to him. He looked into her tear-filled eyes, then brushed a tear off her cheek. He smiled at her. “Doesn’t that store of yours sell jewelry? As in diamond rings?”
The dam broke and Robin flooded the street with tears as she and Rob held each other tightly. He’s mine…mine…mine…and I’m never going to let him go…never…
Rob had a real hard time holding back tears himself. I’ve got her…she’s all mine…and she’s the most beautiful, wonderful woman in creation…
The End
I thank you, dear reader, for persevering to the end of this long and winding yarn. As I wrote in the "Author's Note," I'd still like to re-work this novel some; maybe Robin's amours are a bit too...modern?...for a 19th century western. But Whitewater also seems to be the most popular of the stories I have written, and it might be because there's more "romance," or at least man and woman, than in the others. Be that as it may, I hope you enjoyed the tale, and I also hope that you will overlook any errors you may have found, and I'm sure there are some. With a full-time job, I simply do not have time to check every reference as I'd like, especially in a story this long.
If you like Whitewater and have not yet read the sequel, River Bend, then I invite you to do so. I actually think River Bend is the better of the two. You will meet in that story the person whom I think is the best I've created yet. Again, thank you for sharing your time with me. And Rob and Robin.
Mark K. Lewis