Trouble Trail
Page 18
Outside the building used for the court Bigelow left his fellow officers and walked up to Calamity.
‘Calam,’ he said. ‘I’ve never kissed a bare-faced liar before. But I aim to right now.’
‘Then get to kissing afore either Beau or Molly gets here,’ Calamity challenged, and much to her surprise he scooped her in his arms and gave her a kiss.
‘Now get the hell to the colonel’s house. Molly’s got a surprise for you,’ Bigelow ordered when he released the girl.
Which proved to be one hell of an understatement as Calamity discovered on entering an upstairs room of the colonel’s house. She found herself surrounded by Molly, Eileen, Russian Olga and Mrs. Bloom and something told her she was not going to like what they had in mind. Her eyes went to a white dress lying on the bed, it looked a mite too large for M—
‘Oh no!’ Calamity yelped.
‘Oh yes,’ Eileen replied, rolling up her sleeves in a determined manner. ‘We’ve decided you’re going to be a bridesmaid. Do you put on the dress, or do we do it the hard way?’
Seeing the grim determination on each face, Calamity had the good sense to yell ‘calf rope.’ So it came about that, looking all sweet, innocent and virginal in a white gown, Calamity joined Eileen as bridesmaid and matron-of-honour at the wedding of Miss Molly Amelia Johnson and Captain Wade H. Bigelow, recently, very recently, transferred to the 6th U.S. Cavalry. If anybody noticed that a pair of Indian moccasins hid under Calamity’s gown, they did not mention the fact. There were some sacrifices Calamity refused to make.
Being its first ever wedding, Fort Sherrard set out to celebrate it in style and make sure it be an event never forgotten. There was entertainment, dancing, all the liquor anybody, even the mighty Muldoon, could handle and a good time was had by all. However, the bride and groom disappeared before midnight—and who can blame them. Roughly at the same time Captain and Mrs. Tradle left to start a three-day deer-hunting trip based on the cabin which would be their home while at Sherrard. Two other noticeable absentees being a lady freighter called Martha Jane Canary and a bone-tough plains Scout by name Beauregard Chesley Ryan Resin.
At nine o’clock the following morning Mrs. Tradle, Mrs. Bigelow and Miss Canary gathered in Eileen’s new home’s dining-room for breakfast.
‘It was wonderful,’ Molly breathed, sinking into a chair with a blissful sigh.
‘It sure was,’ agreed Eileen, dreamy-eyed at the thought of two more days of—deer-hunting.
‘Yep,’ Calamity finished. ‘If the good Lord made men for anything better, he kept it to himself. Not that I’d know about it, of course.’
‘Of course,’ chorused the other two. Then Eileen went on, ‘How about you and Beau?’
‘His train goes on to California, they can’t spare him, and Dobe’s outfit’s headed east, which same he needs me to handle my wagon.’
Calamity’s friends thought they detected a wistful note in her voice and felt a married woman’s superior pity for an unmarried friend. Before they could start to express their thoughts, a knock came at the door and Eileen opened it to admit Dobe Killem. The big freighter held a sheet of paper and his face bore a wide grin.
‘Rider just come in from Connel, Calam, gal,’ he said, after greeting the assembled ladies. ‘The Army’s done give us a contract to go back to St. Jo and down river to New Orleans to collect ‘em a bunch of hosses.’
‘New Orleans!’ whooped Calamity. ‘When do we start?’
‘So much for our concern over the poor girl losing her man,’ sighed Molly.
From outside came the rumbling of a wagon, then others as the train started once more on its way west. Calamity did not offer to rise and walk to the window to see them go. Sure they had been her friends, maybe Beau had been a mite more than a friend. Likely she and the big scout might never meet again. Neither of them went much for saying goodbye and had parted that morning knowing their paths could cross again or not, depending on fate.
Already Calamity was thinking of the old French city of New Orleans, she had never been to such a fancy place and wondered what it held in store for her. That was ever Calamity’s way. Never live in the past. Yesterday was gone forever, only tomorrow lay ahead and who knew what tomorrow would bring?
At the head of the train Beau Resin thought of Calamity and grinned. Now there was a gal to remember. He sure hoped old Ka-Dih would fix it so their paths crossed again some time while both were young and lusty enough to enjoy it. Slouching easily in his saddle, he listened to the voices of the train’s children lifted in a mighty appropriate song.
‘Calamity, Calamity,
The best danged gal you ever did see,
There’ll never be, there’ll never be,
Another gal like Calamity,’
COMANCHE by J. T. EDSON
His grandfather was Long Walker, famed war chief in the Pehnanne band of the Comanche nation. Although the Pehnanne medicine man named him Louncey Dalton Ysabel to his people he was Cuchilo The Knife. When the Mexicans along the Rio Grande came to know him, they called him el Cabrito, The Kid. Among the Texans he gained yet another name . . . they called him the Ysabel Kid.
0 552 08020 9—45p
PLEASE NOTE THAT
The official J. T. Edson Appreciation Society and Fan Club will now be operating from a new address.
*Free to members—signed photo of J. T. Edson
*Exciting competitions—autographed prizes to be won in every issue of the Edson Newsletter
*your chance to meet J. T. Edson
Send SAE for full details and membership form to:
J. T. Edson Fan Club,
P.O. Box No. 13,
Melton Mowbray,
Leicestershire.
oooOooo
Scanned and proofed by Amigo da Onça