Then Jake came along and right away mentioned exactly the right place. Before the afternoon was over she had laid aside her caution and her silence and told Jake more about herself than she had ever told anyone. Lippy and Xavier listened from a distance in astonished silence. Jake said very little, though he patted her hand from time to time and poured her a drink when her glass was empty. Once in a while he would say, “My goodness,” or “That damned dog, I ought to go find him and shoot him,” but mostly he just looked friendly and confident, sitting there with his hat tipped back.
When she got through with her story, he explained that he had killed a dentist in Fort Smith, Arkansas, and was a wanted man, but that he had hopes of eluding the law, and if he did, he would certainly try to see that she got to San Francisco, where she belonged. The way he said it made a big impression on Lorie. A sad tone came into his voice from time to time, as if it pained him to have to remember that mortality could prevent him from doing her such a favor. He sounded like he expected to die, and probably soon. It wasn’t a whine, either—just a low note off his tongue and a look in his eye; it didn’t interrupt for a minute his ability to enjoy the immediate pleasures of life.
It gave Lorie the shivers when Jake talked like that, and made her feel that she wanted to play a part in keeping him alive. She was used to men thinking they needed her desperately just because they wanted to get their carrots in her, or wanted her to be their girl for a few days or weeks. But Jake wasn’t asking for anything like that. He just let her see that he felt rather impermanent and might not be able to carry out all that he wished. Lorena wanted to help him. She was surprised, but the feeling was too strong to deny. She didn’t understand it, but she felt it. She knew she had a force inside her, but her practice had been to save it entirely for herself. Men were always hoping she would bestow some of it on them, but she never had. Then, with little hesitation, she began to offer it to Jake. He was a case. He didn’t ask for help, but he knew how to welcome it.
She was the one who suggested they go upstairs, mainly because she was tired of Lippy and Xavier listening to everything they said. On the way up she noticed that Jake was favoring one foot. It turned out one of his ankles had been broken years before, when a horse fell on him—the ankle was apt to swell if he had to ride hard for long stretches, as he had just done. She helped him ease his boot off and got him some hot water and Epsom salts. After he had soaked his foot for a while he looked amused, as if he had just thought of something pleasant.
“You know, if there was a tub around here, I’d just have a bath and trim my mustache,” he said.
There was a washtub sitting on the back porch. Lorena carried it up when she needed a bath, and the six or eight buckets of water it took to fill it. Xavier used it more often than she did. He could tolerate dirt on his customers, but not on himself. Lippy gave no thought to baths so far as anyone knew.
Lorena offered to go get the washtub, since Jake had one boot off, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He took the other boot off and limped down by himself and got the tub. Then he bribed Lippy to heat up some water. It took a while, since the water had to be heated on the cookstove.
“Why, Jake, you could buy a bath from the Mexican barber for ten cents,” Lippy pointed out.
“That may be true, but I prefer the company in this establishment,” Jake said.
Lorena thought maybe he would want her to leave the room while he bathed, since so far he had treated her modestly, but he had nothing like that in mind. He latched her door, so Lippy couldn’t pop in and catch a glimpse of something it wasn’t his business to see.
“Lippy will eye the girls,” Jake said—no news to Lorena.
“I wisht it was a bigger tub,” he said. “We could have us a wash together.”
Lorena had never heard of such a thing. It surprised her how coolly Jake stripped off for his wash. Like all men who weren’t pure gamblers, he was burned brown on his face and neck and hands, and was fish-white on the rest of his body. Most of her customers were brown down to their collar, and white below. The great majority of them were reluctant to show anything of their bodies, though it was bodies they had come to satisfy. Some wouldn’t even unbuckle their belts. Lorena often made them wait while she undressed—if she didn’t whatever she was wearing got mussed up. Also, she liked undressing in front of men because it scared them. A few would get so scared they had to back out of the whole business—though they always scrupulously paid her and apologized and made excuses. They came in thinking they wanted to persuade her out of her clothes, but when she matter-of-factly took them off, it often turned the tables.
Gus was an exception, of course. He liked her naked and he liked her clothed. Seeing one body would remind him of other bodies, and he would sit on the bed and scratch himself and talk about various aspects of women that only he would have had anything to say about: the varieties of bosoms, for example.
Jake Spoon wasn’t as talkative as Gus, but he was just as immodest. He sat happily in the tub until the water got cold. He even asked if she’d like to give him a haircut. She didn’t mind trying, but quickly saw that she was making a mess of it and stopped with only a small portion of his curly black hair removed.
Once he toweled himself off he turned and led her to the bed. He stopped before he got there and looked as though he was going to offer her money. Lorena had wondered if he would, and when he stopped, she turned quickly so he could undo the long row of buttons down the back of her dress. She felt impatient—not for the act, but for Jake to go ahead and assume responsibility for her. She had never supposed that she would want such a thing from a man, but she was not bothered by the fact that she had changed her mind in the space of an hour, or that she was a little drunk when she changed it. She felt confident that Jake Spoon would get her out of Lonesome Dove, and she didn’t intend to allow money to pass between them—or anything else that might cause him to leave without her.
Jake immediately stepped over and helped her undo the buttons. It was plain she wasn’t the first woman he had undressed, because he even knew how to unhook the dress at the neck, something most of her customers would never have thought of.
“You’ve had this one awhile, I reckon,” he said, looking rather critically at the dress once he got it off her.
That, too, surprised her, for no man had ever commented, favorably or unfavorably, upon her clothes—not even Tinkersley, who had given her the money to buy the very dress Jake was holding, just a cheap cotton dress which was fraying at the collar. Lorena felt a touch of shame that a man would notice the fraying. She had often meant to make a new dress or two—that being the only way to get one, in Lonesome Dove—but she was awkward with a needle and was still getting by on the dresses she had bought in San Antonio.
In the months there she had had several offers to go to San Antonio with men who would probably have bought her dresses, but she had always declined. San Antonio was in the wrong direction, she hadn’t liked any of the men, and anyway didn’t really need new dresses, since she was attracting more business than she wanted just wearing the old ones.
Jake’s comment had been mildly made, but it threw Lorena slightly off. She realized he was a finicky man—she could not get away with being lazy about herself, any longer. A man who noticed a frayed collar with a near-naked woman standing right in front of him was a new kind of man to Lorena—one who would soon notice other things, some perhaps more serious than a collar. She felt disheartened; some glow had seeped from the moment. Probably he had already been to San Francisco and seen finer women than her. Perhaps when it came time to leave he wouldn’t want to bother with someone so ill-dressed. Perhaps the surprise that had walked into her life would simply walk back out of it.
But her sinking confidence was only momentary. Jake put the dress aside, watched her draw her shift off over her head, and sat beside her when she lay down. He was perfectly at ease.
“Well, Lorie, you take the prize,” he said. “I had not a hope of being
this lucky when I headed back here. Why, you’re as fine as flowers.”
When he began to stroke her she noticed that his hands were like a woman’s, his fingers small and his fingernails clean. Tinkersley had had clean fingernails, but Jake wasn’t arrogant like Tinkersley, and he gave the impression of having nothing but time. Most men crawled on top of her at once, but Jake just sat on the bed, smiling at her. When he smiled, her confidence returned. With most men, there was a moment when they moved their eyes away. But Jake kept looking at her, right in the eye. He looked at her so long that she began to feel shy. She felt more naked than she had ever felt, and when he bent to kiss her, she flinched. She did not like kissing, but Jake merely grinned when she flinched, as if her shyness was funny. His breath was as clean as his hands. Many a sour breath had ruffled her hair and affronted her nostrils, but Jake’s was neither rank nor sour. It had a clean cedary flavor to it.
When it was over, Jake took a nap, and instead of getting up and dressing, Lorie lay with him, thinking. She thought of San Francisco, and just thinking about it made her think that she could do anything. She didn’t even feel like moving to wipe the sheets. Let them be. She would be going soon, and Xavier could burn them for all she cared.
When Jake woke he looked at her and grinned, and his hand, warm now, went right back to work.
“If I ain’t careful I’m apt to sprout up again,” he said.
Lorena wanted to ask him why his breath smelled like cedar but she didn’t know if she ought, since he had just come to town. But then she asked him, a little shocked at hearing her own voice make the question.
“Why, I passed a cedar grove and cut myself some toothpicks,” Jake said. “There’s nothing that sweetens the breath like a cedar toothpick, unless it’s mint, and mint don’t grow in these parts.”
Then he kissed her again, as if to make her a present of his sweet breath. Between kisses he talked to her about San Francisco, and what might be the best route to take. Even after he slid between her legs again and made the old bedspring whine and the sorry mattress crackle, he kept talking a little.
When he finally got up and stretched and suggested they go downstairs, Lorena felt more cheerful than she had for years. Xavier and Lippy, who were used to her long sulks, hardly knew what to think. Neither did Dish Boggett, who happened to walk in. Dish sat down and drank a bottle of whiskey before anybody noticed. Then he got to singing, and everybody laughed at him. Lorena laughed as loud as Lippy, whose lip waved like a flag when he was amused.
Only later, when Jake left to ride south with Captain Call, did Lorena feel impatient. She wanted Jake to come back. The time with him had been so relaxed it almost seemed like a wakeful dream of some kind. She wanted to have the dream again.
That night, when a skinny cowboy named Jasper Fant came in from the river and approached her, Lorie just stared at him silently until he got embarrassed and backed off, never having actually said a word. Staring was all she had to do. Jasper consulted with Lippy and Xavier, and by the end of the week, all the cowboys along the river knew that the only sporting woman in Lonesome Dove had abruptly given up the sport.
14.
WHEN JAKE FINALLY came ambling up to the house, having spent the better part of the day asleep in Lorena’s bed, Augustus was already nuzzling his jug from time to time. He was sitting on the front porch, waving off flies and watching the two Irishmen, who were sleeping as if dead under the nearest wagon. They had gone to sleep in the wagon’s meager shade; the shade had moved, but not the Irishmen. The boy had no hat. He slept with his arm across his face. Jake didn’t even glance at them as he walked past, a fact Augustus noted. Jake had never been renowned for his interest in people unless the people were whores.
“Where’s Call?” Jake asked when he got to the porch.
“You didn’t expect to find Woodrow Call sitting in the shade, did you?” Augustus asked. “That man was born to work.”
“Yes, and you was born to talk too much,” Jake said. “I need to borrow ten dollars.”
“Oh?” Augustus said. “Has Lorie upped her rates?”
Jake ignored the question, which was only meant to rile him, and reached for the jug.
“No, the girl’s as generous as a preacher’s widow,” Jake said. “She wouldn’t take money from a gentleman like me. I hope she charged you plenty, though, for I know you’ve been there before me.”
“I’ve always tried to keep a step ahead of you, Jake,” Augustus said. “But to answer your question, Call’s gone to round up a dern bunch of cowboys so we can head out for Montana with a dern bunch of cows and suffer for the rest of our lives.”
“Well, dern,” Jake said. “I admit I was a fool to mention it.”
He settled himself on the lower step and set the jug halfway between them so they could both reach it. He was mildly chagrined that Call had left before he could borrow the money—extracting money from Augustus had always been a long and wearisome business. Call was easier when it came to money—he didn’t like to lend it, but he would rather lend it than talk about it, whereas Augustus would rather talk than do anything.
Also, it was bothersome that Call had seized on the idea of Montana so abruptly, though it had always been his view that if you could just hit Call with the right idea, he would apply his energies and make a fortune, which he might then share with the man who brought along the idea.
Now that he was back, though, he wouldn’t mind spending a few warm idle months in Lonesome Dove. Lorie was more of a beauty than he had expected to find. Her room over the saloon wasn’t much, but it was better accommodation than they could expect on the way to Montana.
As usual, though, life moved faster than he had intended it to. Call would come back with a lot of cowboys and he would practically have to marry Lorie in order to get out of going up the trail. Then, if he did set his foot down and stay in Lonesome Dove, who knew but what some lawman from Fort Smith would show up and drag him off to hang? Just as he had been in the mood to slow down, his own loose mouth had gotten him in trouble.
“Maybe he won’t find no cattle to drive, or no hands, neither,” he suggested, knowing it was wishful thinking.
“He’ll find the cattle, and if he can’t find the hands he’ll drive ’em himself,” Augustus said. “And make us help him.”
Jake tipped his hat back and said nothing. The blue shoat wandered around the corner of the house and stood there looking at him, which for some reason Jake found peculiarly irritating. Gus and his pig were aggravating company.
“I ought to shoot that pig right betwixt the eyes,” he said, feeling more irritable the longer he sat. There was not much good in anything that he could see. Either it was back to Montana and probably get scalped, or stay in Texas and probably get hung. And if he wasn’t careful the girl would get restless and actually expect him to take her to San Francisco. The main problem with women was that they were always wanting something like San Francisco, and once they began to expect it they would get testy if it didn’t happen. They didn’t understand that he talked of pleasant things and faraway places just to create a happy prospect that they could look forward to for a while. It wasn’t meant to really happen, and yet women never seemed to grasp that; he had been in ticklish spots several times as their disappointment turned to anger. It was something, how mad women could get.
“Was you ever threatened by a woman, Gus?” he asked, thinking about it.
“No, not what you’d call threatened,” Augustus said. “I was hit with a stove lid once or twice.”
“Why?” Jake asked.
“Why, no reason,” Augustus said. “If you live with Mexicans you can expect to eat beans, sooner or later.”
“Who said anything about Mexicans?” Jake said, a little exasperated. Gus was the derndest talker.
Augustus chuckled. “You was always slow to see the pint, Jake,” he said. “If you fool with women you’ll get hit by a stove lid, sooner or later, whereas if you live with Mexicans you have to exp
ect beans in your diet.”
“I’d like to see a woman that can hit me with a stove lid,” Jake said. “I will take an insult once in a while, but I’d be damned if I’d take that.”
“Lorie’s apt to hit you with worse if you try to wiggle out of taking her to San Francisco,” Augustus said, delighted that an opportunity had arisen to catch Jake out so early in his visit.
Jake let that one float. Of course Gus would know all about the girl. Not that it took brains to know about women: they spread their secrets around like honey in a flytrap. Of course Lorie would want to go to San Francisco, by common agreement the prettiest town in the west.
Augustus stood up and lifted his big pistol off the back of his chair. “I guess we ought to wake up them Irishmen before they bake,” he said. He walked over and kicked at their feet for a while until they began to stir. Finally Allen O’Brien sat up, looking groggy.
“Lord, it’s warm, ain’t it?” he said.
“Why, this is spring, son,” Augustus remarked. “If you’re looking for warm come back on the Fourth of July. We usually thaw out by then.”
When he was sure both Irishmen were awake he went back to the house and came out with his rifle. “Well, let’s go,” he said to Jake.
“Go where?” Jake asked. “I just got set down.”
“To hide them horses,” Augustus said. “Pedro Flores is no quitter. He’ll be coming.”
Jake felt sour. He wished again that circumstances hadn’t prompted him to come back. He had already spent one full night on horseback, and now the boys were expecting him to spend another, all on account of a bunch of livestock he had no interest in in the first place.
“I don’t know as I’m coming,” he said. “I just got here. If I’d known you boys did nothing but chouse horses around all night, I don’t know that I would have come.”
The Lonesome Dove Chronicles (1-4) Page 143