by John Locke
“What,” she said.
“I’m not sure you’re ready to settle down in Newton, Kansas.”
“I’ve been thinking about it, that’s all. There are precious few opportunities for women in the business world, so product is of paramount importance. And this poultice? The transformation in Gentry’s appearance? Well, I’ve never seen anything like it! It’s a product that could not possibly fail. And now that the idea’s in my head, I don’t know how to get it out.”
“Well, you’ve got several days to ponder it.”
It was dark. Soon the fireflies would be out. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise for the others by talkin’ about it in advance, but Shrug and I know this area as Firefly Heaven. In a half hour there’d be tens of thousands of fireflies puttin’ on a show for us.
I heard a cough in the distance. Gentry, tryin’ to get my attention. I aimed to be holdin’ her in my arms when the light show started, and looked forward to seein’ her reaction to one of nature’s most glorious spectacles.
“Are you going to tell Rose we had this talk?” Phoebe said.
“Would you like me to?”
“No. Can I trust you not to tell her?”
“Of course.”
“I wonder.”
“Wonder what?”
“How we might be able to test this claim of loyalty you’ve professed to me,” Phoebe said.
“How’s Wayne?” I said.
Phoebe started to say “How should I—”, but stopped abruptly. It was dark, and I couldn’t see it, but I’m sure she blushed.
“I have no idea what you’re referring to, I’m sure.” Then she said, “But I’ll trust you to keep your thoughts about it to yourself. As you said you’d do. Out of loyalty to me.”
I looked up at the sky. “You need to be with Shrug.”
“Why?”
“I’ll let him tell you.”
She followed my gaze.
“Is something bad about to happen?”
“No. Something beautiful.”
47.
Watchin’ the show at Firefly Heaven was like drinkin’ whiskey, eatin’ Gasconade perch, and watchin’ nipple contests on the White River, meanin’, they’re all things Shrug and I have gone miles out of our way to enjoy. It seems like whenever I’m feelin’ low, like I’d been feelin’ lately on account of Scarlett’s death, somethin’ special will come along, like glorious fireflies, assertive nipples, or pan-fried Nade perch—and it puts me back in mind that life is good.
Speakin’ of assertive nipples, I had good cause durin’ the firefly show to wonder how I could’ve supposed Leah or anyone else on God’s earth could’ve bested Gentry in such a contest. Then again, I was no longer an impartial judge.
Firefly Heaven was only five days from Newton, Kansas, Phoebe’s droppin’ off point. The trail was well-defined, and there weren’t any surprises along it. While Shrug scouted out far ahead, the women and I quickly settled into the daily routine that defines wagon travel: up at daybreak, cook breakfast, saddle the horses, yoke the oxen, break the camp, ride the trail, break for lunch and necessaries, stop at seven, make the camp, tend to the livestock, cook dinner, fuck Gentry…
And so it went.
On the fifth night, around eight-thirty, Phoebe asked if we could chat. I figured she was goin’ to talk about Shrug, and explain why she’d been ignorin’ him more and more with each passin’ evenin’. I already knew why: she was about to meet the man she’d agreed to marry, and her relationship with Shrug had to come to an end in order to give Mr. Pickett his due. It was better to put her feelin’s toward Shrug behind her, at least until she’d had a chance to decide about Pickett.
But what she wanted to talk about had nothin’ to do with Shrug.
What she said was, “Do you think I’d be a good business woman?”
I said, “Can’t get it out of your mind, can you?”
“It tugs at me,” she said. “What Rose did for Gentry’s face, why, it’s nothing short of a miracle! It’s something every woman would want. And there are thousands upon thousands of women in Philadelphia who would pay a small fortune for it. Especially if we claimed there was a limited supply. It would build up enormous demand.”
“I know you’d be a great business woman.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Two things. First, you can’t get it out of your system. And second, you’re the bravest woman I’ve ever known.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s true.”
“Me?”
“Sit down,” I said. She did. I said, “You remember the first day we met?”
“Of course.”
“I was ridin’ Major, followin’ the stones Shrug had placed, and suddenly I saw a woman’s footprint.”
“So?”
“If you could’ve seen the look on my face you’d know how unique an event that was.”
“I’d been foolish. I took an unnecessary chance. I could have been killed.”
“It was the single bravest act I ever witnessed,” I said. “A woman travelin’ alone, on foot, through the Ozarks, with nothin’ but fancy clothes and a sack full of coffee…”
“You’ve always been a fool for my coffee!” she said, smilin’.
I chuckled. “You’re braver than I am.”
“How so?”
“I’ve often thought of buyin’ a business.”
“Really? What type of business?”
“There’s a little saloon and card emporium in Dodge City called The Lucky Spur, that’s owned by a friend of mine. It’s where I spend a lot of time after deliverin’ the women to the brothels. Every time I go there, my friend Hank tells me I should settle down and buy the place.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Guess I don’t have your grit. Or your head for business.”
“Well, if it’s an established business…”
“It is.”
“Then the existing employees could run the place. All you’d have to do is make sure they aren’t stealing from you.”
“Who’d dare steal from me?”
“Exactly. And don’t they have someone standing guard every night?”
“They do.”
“You could save money by taking that job yourself. You’d be in the place you enjoy, doing work you’re good at, and you’d own the business. I should think you’d have a very successful enterprise, especially with the draw.”
“The what?”
“The attraction.”
“Which is what?”
“You, silly! You’re a famous gunman, are you not?”
“I’m not unknown, I suppose.”
“I’m sure droves of people in Dodge City would frequent a saloon and card emporium if they knew it was owned by the famous gunman Emmett Love. Especially if they could actually see you standing guard, and possibly make your acquaintance.”
We let that thought hang in the air awhile. Then I said, “Well, anyway, we were talkin’ about your skin care shop in Philadelphia.”
“Alas, tomorrow I’m to meet my betrothed.”
“As it currently stands.”
“I’d be a fool to come all this way and not even meet the man.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Wouldn’t I?” she said.
48.
It was two in the afternoon when we rolled into Newton. After parkin’ the oxen and wagons at the livery stable, me and Phoebe watered the horses and tied her huge carpetbag to Earl’s horse. She and the women said their tearful goodbyes, then Rose led them down the street to the Adelaide Hotel, where we planned to spend the night, get a bath, and have a nice dinner together. Gentry and I planned to share a room, and the girls would do the same, with Monique, Hester and Leah in one room and Mary and Emma in another. With great enthusiasm Rose offered to share her room with Hannah, but the hapless child seemed not to care who she bunked with. I had the feeling she would have shown no expression had we bunked her with a mule.
Phoebe and me cl
imbed on our horses and started walkin’ ’em through town.
“Where’s Wayne?” she said.
“He’s probably staked out a spot on Pickett’s ranch where he can keep an eye on things.”
She smiled. “He’s a good friend.”
“There ain’t no better friend in the world than Shrug,” I said.
“How long will he stay there?”
“That I don’t know. But if you were to scream his name tonight in an urgent way, you’d best duck, because rocks are gonna fly!”
She laughed.
“I finally understand it,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“The relationship you and Wayne have.”
“Well good for you, because I don’t have a clue about it. Just seems to work, is all I know.”
“Whoa,” I said. Major stopped, and Phoebe jerked Earl’s horse to a stop as well.
“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about livin’ in a sod house,” I said.
“Why not?”
I pointed to all four corners of Main Street, where it intersected with First. Where the signs said PICKETT’S FEED STORE, PICKETT’S SALOON, PICKETT’S LUMBER & HARDWARE, and THE PICKETT DAILY NEWS.
“My word!” Phoebe said.
“My word, indeed,” I said. We paused a moment, watching the activity around her future husband’s businesses, then headed out of town, toward Pickett’s ranch.
Turns out Mr. Pickett was a very prominent businessman. Turns out he had a wonderful spread, more than five hundred acres, with a beautiful two-story wood and brick house. Turns out the house had a wide veranda, complete with a hand rail that wrapped elegantly around the front of the house, and rockin’ chairs where people could drink lemonade while enjoyin’ friendly conversation. I know, because it was on that very porch that Phoebe and I sat with Mr. Pickett and shared a lovely afternoon.
To my great happiness, he appeared to be a kind and charming man. He positively doted on Phoebe from the moment she arrived, and he insisted on showing us the house, grounds, and stables, and introduced us to his servants and his French cook and his ranch hands, and…
And that’s where I got a funny feelin’.
Because some of the ranch hands looked a lot like gunmen.
49.
After the tour I told Mr. Pickett I wanted to talk to Phoebe in private. He took her hand, kissed it and said, “I know what he’s going to ask you, and I hope you’ll say yes. But if not, there’ll be no hard feelings, and I’ll make sure you’re escorted safely back to Philadelphia in the most comfortable manner possible, at my complete expense.”
She dipped her knee in a way that was probably cultured, and then she tittered, or whatever they call it when a woman pretends to be impressed by some high-falutin’, hand-kissin’ mucky muck.
Or maybe she was impressed.
“Sod house, indeed!” she said when we were alone on the porch. I mean, veranda.
“It’s a far cry from Paul and Molly’s,” I said.
“Poor Molly,” she said. “It doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
“I think those ranch hands are hired gunmen,” I said.
“What? Oh, pooh.”
“I’m serious, Phoebe. There’s more here than meets the eye.”
“Please! Keep your voice down!” She took my arm and pulled me off the porch, out into the open, making certain no one could hear our conversation.
“So what if they’re hired gunmen,” she said.
“What?”
“If you owned all this, wouldn’t you want to surround yourself with men who can keep trouble out?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. But if I did, I wouldn’t introduce them as ranch hands.”
“He was probably being respectful to the gunmen,” she said. “And anyway, no one has confirmed that they are, indeed, gunmen. So far it’s just you making the assumption.”
“How many gunfights you been in?” I said.
She gave me a look. “How many do you think?”
“I reckon I know gunslingers when I see ’em,” I said.
“Oh, Emmett. You and Shrug, my noble knights. Always so quick to defend me. Even when there’s no danger.”
“I’m not sayin’ it ain’t a grand way to live. And I ain’t sayin’ you shouldn’t marry the man.”
“Then what are you saying, Emmett?”
“I think you should put him off.”
“What? He’s expecting an answer. It would be terribly rude to put him off at this point.”
“Just until I have time to ask around.”
“No.”
“No?”
“I want to marry him, Emmett. The man is a prize. The type of prize a woman can only dream of! Not only is he the most charming man I’ve ever met, he’s also the most humble.”
“Humble?”
“What would you call it? He never once mentioned the true size of his estate, or the businesses he owns, or the number of cattle he has, or even the quality of his home.”
“He told us he started small and kept workin’ hard.”
“I should think that would have impressed you.”
“Normally it would. But you don’t build somethin’ this size by startin’ small and workin’ hard.”
“Now you sound jealous.”
I nodded. “I can see why you might think that. And maybe I am, and don’t know it. But that don’t make me wrong.”
“I’m willing to take my chances that Mr. Pickett is for real.”
“What about the poultice business with Rose?”
“What about it?”
“Will you be able to get it out of your head?”
She paused. “No, probably not. But I’ll be so busy here, arranging parties and teas, and making my husband happy, I doubt I’ll have much time to dwell on it.”
I eyed her carefully as I said, “What about Shrug?”
She sighed. “Dear Shrug. Do you see him? Is he out there somewhere right now, watching us?”
I noticed it was the first time she’d called him Shrug, which I took as a bad sign. “Shrug ain’t the type of person you can see, less he wants to be seen. But he’s out there, you can bet. And I s’pect he don’t like the look a’ them fellers any more than I do.”
“Wayne is a dear friend. As you are, Emmett. And I can’t tell you how happy I am to have met you both.” She sighed again, for emphasis. “But I’m ready to begin the next phase of my life. So if you don’t mind, let’s go tell Mr. Pickett that I’d be thrilled to marry him, and I’ll have him pay your fee before I sign the papers.”
“My what?”
“Your twenty dollars. In gold, just as we agreed. Wait,” she said. “You seem offended.”
“I am offended.”
“But why?”
“Well, I don’t rightly know.”
“We had an agreement, did we not?”
“I reckon we did. But—”
“But what?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. It just…seems different somehow.”
“You’ve accepted money from the others.”
“I have.”
“Even Gentry.”
“Yes.”
“It would be ridiculous not to accept my husband’s money. It would, in fact, be improper.”
I sighed. I really didn’t know why her offerin’ to pay me stuck so thick in my craw. Made no sense. And anyway, twenty dollars was a pitiful sum compared to what others would have charged to bring a tenderfoot four hundred miles. Of course, others wouldn’t have made her carry a lean-to all those miles, or put her in a position to get hit in the head with hawk shit.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s give him the good news. But don’t sign anythin’ tonight.”
“Emmett, you needn’t worry about me signing any papers. This is nothing like Molly and Paul or the others you’ve brought together. Mr. Pickett and I will be married in a church or here at the ranch, by a real preacher. There will be guests, and music, and flowers, and wh
o knows what else.”
It was the ‘what else’ that bothered me. But I said, “I’ll accept your decision and say no more about it, except this: tomorrow mornin’, instead of leavin’ at dawn, I’ll wait until eight o’clock to hitch the team. That’ll give you the whole night to think on it. If you change your mind, just get your bag and start walkin’, and Shrug’ll be at your side before you get a hundred yards.”
“I’m not going to change my mind, Emmett. And even if I did, Mr. Pickett has graciously agreed to make sure I’m returned to Philadelphia safely, in an elegant way.”
I was afraid Mr. Pickett’s intentions of returnin’ her might involve havin’ his gunmen shoot her for rejectin’ him. I looked her dead in the eye. “Phoebe, if for any reason you decide not to marry the man, do not accept his offer to send you back.”
“Why not?”
“Trust me on this one thing.”
“Why should I?”
“Because I’m right. And because—”
“Yes?”
“I’m loyal.”
She sighed a big, frustrated sigh.
“Fine,” she said. “What difference does it make? I’m not going to change my mind in the first place.”
“I’ll wait at the livery tomorrow mornin’,” I said.
“I know. Until eight. Thank you, Emmett, that’s really very gallant of you. I know how you like to be on the trail first thing in the morning.”
I looked into her eyes, and she looked back. She’d made up her mind.
“Okay,” I said. “That’s all I’ve got to say.”
She kissed my cheek and said, “Thank you, Emmett. Now let’s get this done!”
50.
We had a fine dinner and a wonderful time at the Hotel Adelaide’s restaurant. As a group, we hadn’t laughed since Scarlett’s passin’. But on this night, everyone seemed happy. Rose, often considered aloof, was openly friendly, and to my surprise, funny. Even Monique had a good time! Of course, little Hannah’s expression never changed. But who could blame her? She probably expected the roof to cave in on us. As the laughter got louder, a couple of young cowboys approached our table and asked if any of the ladies might care to dance.
“You hear any music?” Mary said, teasin’ him along. “I don’t hear any.”