by John Locke
After enjoyin’ a poke, I said, “I been thinkin’ about settlin’ down.”
She sat up so fast the blanket didn’t have time to catch up.
Enjoyin’ the view, I said, “You’re a fine figure of a gal, Gentry.”
“Never mind that,” she said, wrappin’ her spare blanket around her. “What type of settlin’ down are you talkin’ about?”
I told her about my idea for buyin’ The Lucky Spur in Dodge City.
“Really Emmett? Because that would be wonderful!”
“Right now it’s just a thought flittin’ around in my head.”
“Well, if you decide to do it, I’d love to be a part of it. I could help you in a hundred different ways.”
Then she proceeded to list them, one at a time, to the point I wished I hadn’t brought it up. Somewhere around her fifteenth idea of how to help me run The Lucky Spur, I kissed her on the mouth, and kept kissin’ ’til she hushed talkin’.
The next day was like the first, except that the whores were gettin’ excited about the trip finally comin’ to a close. They were eager to rise, short to break, and pushed me to travel longer than I cared to. As a group, they put me in mind of a cold mule that knows he’s gettin’ closer to a warm barn.
There was still no sign of Shrug, and I was surprised he’d waited so long to make sure Phoebe was safe and happy with Pickett. I kept lookin’ for him anyway, knowin’ he’d turn up eventually. I figured he was in love with Phoebe, but I knew he wouldn’t hang around the ranch the rest of her life. I did believe he’d stop by Pickett’s place from time to time to spy on her and see if she was bein’ treated okay. I hoped so, for Pickett’s sake, because I wouldn’t want to be on Shrug’s bad side.
I finally accepted the fact that Phoebe made a decision that was best for her. I figured her to be happier with the lifestyle than the man, but those sorts of things like parties and teas and polite conversations and community status were important to women like Phoebe, and I was happy for her. While Phoebe and I weren’t a perfect match for each other as friends, we were a decent one, and I’d grown close to her over the course of the trip. She had many more good qualities than bad, and now that she was gone, I could hardly remember any of the bad. I took a minute to think about how, in any other setting, she and I would have never had an occasion to meet, or speak to each other, and certainly wouldn’t have forged a friendship. But I liked her, and knew I always would. I’d probably stop in to check on her myself, from time to time.
These thoughts of becomin’ friends with Phoebe and then sayin’ goodbye put me in mind of Scarlett and Monique, and how they shared a special carin’ for each other. Monique was devastated, and feelin’ lost right now, but I bet she cherished the time they had spent together. And what of little somber-faced Hannah? It was clear that Rose was growin’ fond of the doleful child, and that was good news for both of ’em. I wouldn’t be surprised if Rose decided to take her back to Springfield with her. Who knows what type of lady Hannah might grow up to be with a woman like Rose lookin’ after her?
Hannah was always worried about what might happen to destroy her world. And with good cause. But wouldn’t it be better for her to enjoy her time with Rose instead of worryin’ when it might end?
It’s like what Gentry had said. I wondered how many people avoided the deepness of love ’cause there weren’t no guarantees on the length of it.
We made camp that night on the Coon Creek battlefield, where soldiers used breechloadin’ rifles against Indians for the first time.
After dinner and a poke, Gentry said, “Any more thoughts on The Lucky Spur?”
“I didn’t really think on it much today,” I said. “What about you?”
“I only care if you’re happy, Emmett. My happiness don’t depend on what you do, but how you feel.”
“You’re a helluva woman,” Gentry.
“So I’m a woman now, huh?”
“You’re all woman.”
“Glad you noticed. Now don’t forget it!”
54.
It was the third night out of Newton, and we camped late, on a stretch of land that felt good under my feet. There was deep soil here, the type that produces the most abundant crops. The air had a clean scent to it, and there was plenty of wildlife to be seen and heard.
Bein’ the last night we’d all be together, I broke out the bottle of bourbon I’d brought all the way from Rolla. I’d bought two, given one to Shrug the first day out when he’d strung a line of perch for me near the Gasconade River—and figured it was time to put this second one to good use.
We ate and sang and danced ’til the whiskey was gone, and then sang and danced some more. Bein’ the only man, I got a lot of attention from the womenfolk, and yet all through the evenin’, no matter how wild the dancin’ got, Gentry kept givin’ me love looks that warmed my heart. That night, when we bedded down, I said, “Gentry.”
“Yes, Emmett?”
“I love you.”
She didn’t respond.
“Did you hear me?” I said.
“Yes.”
“Well aren’t you gonna say nothin’?”
“I’m sayin’ it with my heart. Can’t you hear me?”
“Say it with your voice so I’ll be sure to know.”
“I love you truly, Emmett. And I always will.”
“Sayin’ it brings an obligation.”
“Oh, Emmett.”
“What?”
“You’re not gonna ruin the moment by gettin’ all serious, are you?”
Was I?
No.
“I’ve made a decision,” I said.
She waited.
“I’m gonna buy The Lucky Spur.”
“Why, that’s great news, Emmett!”
“And I want you to live with me.”
“A’ course I will!”
“And I want you to stop whorin’.”
“You’ll save a heap of money right there!”
“How’s that?”
“Because you’ll be gettin’ it for free, silly.”
I smiled. “It gets better and better, don’t it!”
“It does,” she said.
“There’s one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve decided that whatever time you’ll give me, I’m gonna take.”
“And?”
“And I’ll be happy.”
“And?”
“And I won’t worry about when it might end.”
“That’s all I’ll ever ask,” she said.
55.
The next mornin’, just before sunup, I smelled the unmistakable aroma of Rose’s famous fried biscuits and ham. Me and Gentry had set our blankets a ways from camp, so I had to holler to make myself heard.
“What time is it?” I shouted.
“Nearly five,” Rose shouted back.
“Smells great,” I hollered. “But ain’t it awful early?”
“We’ve got company.”
I looked around.
“Where?”
“You’ll see. Put your pants on.”
A minute later I heard the sound a wood warbler makes, far in the distance. I whistled back.
“What’s up?” Gentry said, yawnin’.
“Shrug’s comin’.”
“Finally!” Gentry said.
I wasn’t surprised Shrug was joinin’ us, though I’d expected him sooner. But I was surprised to see he’d brought Phoebe Thayer with him.
No one wanted to do anythin’ but eat and hear their story. And since I’d never known Shrug to speak, it was all on Phoebe to tell it.
56.
“Mr. Pickett was a complete gentleman,” Phoebe said, “from start to finish. He’s a charming man, extremely wealthy, and has high political aspirations.”
Gentry nudged me, smiled, and mouthed the words “Told you!”
Mary said, “Wait—before you say anything else—is Mr. Pickett available?”
Phoebe laughed. “He�
�s all yours, Mary.”
“If he was all those things,” I said, “why aren’t you still with him?”
“Because he’s dishonest. Or was, at least.”
“Dishonest how?”
“You know his lumber business?”
I nodded.
“He claims his businesses are completely legitimate now, but admits he hired some gunmen to rob wagonloads of lumber in Kansas, Missouri, and Nebraska.”
I thought about Molly and Paul, and how the robbers had killed the drivers and made off with Paul’s life savings. “How did you come by that knowledge?”
“My second day there, Wayne led me to a small gully where he’d found a dozen old wagons covered with canvass. On the side of the wagons I saw lettering that identified them as belonging to various lumber yards in several states.”
“Were any of ’em from St. Joe?”
“Six.”
“Were two of ’em Paul’s?”
“I don’t think so, Emmett, but I can’t say for sure.”
“What did you do?”
“I confronted Mr. Pickett.”
“And he admitted it?”
“Not right away.”
“How’d you get him to talk?”
Phoebe looked at Shrug. “Wayne helped.”
Shrug grinned.
“What did he do?”
“He set the barn on fire. When the ranch hands ran to put it out, he knocked them unconscious with rocks and tied them up.”
“There must’ve been ten men!” I said. “How could one man tie up ten?”
“Every time one of them started to come to, Wayne hit him over the head and kept tying. When Mr. Pickett came outside to help, Wayne dragged him back into the house.”
“And he confessed?”
“Eventually.”
“Aren’t you afraid he’s gonna come after you and try to kill you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I sold him my silence.”
“How?” Mary said.
“He opened his safe and gave me a substantial sum of money.”
“Enough to get back East?”
“More.”
“Enough to open your skin care shop?” I said.
“It would be,” she said. “But I have a better use for it. I’m giving the bulk of it to Paul Snow, so he can build a proper house for his nagging, gunshot wife. There should be enough left over for us to order a proper headstone for Scarlett’s grave.”
Rose had been quietly translatin’ everythin’ to Monique from the moment Phoebe started talkin’. When she got to that part, Monique burst into tears.
“You were happy livin’ on Pickett’s ranch,” I said.
“I was.”
“And he was a perfect gentleman.”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe he’s honest now?”
“I do. And if his men were responsible for the killing, I don’t think he knew it. He seemed devastated about it and said none of the local papers reported any deaths in connection with the wagons he stole.”
“It’d be a big coincidence if he didn’t heist Paul’s shipment.”
“I agree.”
“It seemed like a perfect life for you,” I said.
“It did. But it was a life built on the suffering of others. I tried to overlook it, tried to justify it was all in the past. But in the end, I couldn’t do it. Also, there was something else.”
“What’s that?” Mary said.
“I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. Starting my own business with Rose, in Philadelphia.” Phoebe looked at Rose. “Is your generous offer still on the table?”
“It is,” Rose said.
“Excellent!”
Then Phoebe said, “When will you introduce me to the person you said would help me get started?”
“You already know her,” Rose said.
We all looked at her.
“I want you to take Monique back East. You’ll teach her English and how to run the business. The women of Philadelphia won’t know anything of her past, and she’ll have a clean start in life.”
Phoebe looked at Monique.
Rose said, “Trust me, they’re going to adore her! She’s got the look, the style, and the charisma. When you’re ready to open your second location, she’ll manage the first.”
Phoebe looked doubtful. “I hadn’t given much thought to a second location.”
“Well, you should, because I’ve got lots of potions, and you’ll need to be accessible to the masses.”
Phoebe smiled. “I like the way you think,” she said.
She waited for Rose to translate the idea to Monique. As she spoke, Monique’s eyes grew larger. When Rose stopped speakin’, Monique gave Phoebe a hopeful look, and said somethin’ to her in French. Phoebe answered back, then Rose joined in. They started jabberin’ faster and faster and could’ve been sayin’ anythin’, far as the rest of us knew. But in the end, they all hugged and were apparently in business together.
“I’ve got some news of my own,” Rose said. “I’m adopting Hannah.”
“Now there’s a shock!” Gentry said, laughin’.
“Who could have seen that comin’?” Hester said, sarcastically.
Hannah spoke up for the first time since I’d known her. She said, “I expect we shall all die before reaching Springfield.”
We were stunned at the comment. But Rose just laughed it off and said, “Hannah’s not given to excessive optimism, which is a good thing. By always expecting the worst, she’ll never be disappointed in life.”
57.
When we got to Dodge, I took Emma, Mary, Hester, and Leah around to the brothels I knew, and waited for ’em to choose from those that wanted ’em. After gettin’ ’em situated, we hugged goodbye, and bless their hearts, they each offered me a free poke next time I came through town. All ’cept Emma, who curiously showed me her four-fingered left and six-fingered right hands and offered me a “five finger discount.”
Rose sold one of the wagons and its ox team, and stocked the other with enough provisions to get her, Phoebe, Hannah, and Monique to Springfield. The plan was for Shrug to escort ’em to Springfield, where they’d drop off Hannah and the wagon, and the women would continue on horseback to Rolla. After puttin’ Phoebe and Monique on the train, Rose and Shrug would head back to Springfield, where Rose would devote herself to runnin’ her ranch and raisin’ Hannah.
“Who’s gonna take care of Hannah when you go to Rolla?” Gentry said.
“Roberto and his wife. Don’t worry, she’ll be in good hands.”
“And what will Shrug do?” Gentry said. “After he gets you back to Springfield.”
Shrug smiled at Gentry, pleased to hear her worryin’ about his future.
Rose said, “Shrug knows he’s always welcome at my place. Forever, if it suits him.”
“I s’pect it’ll suit him,” I said. “You’re the best cook in the county and have a well-stocked liquor cabinet.”
Shrug smiled.
Gentry looked at me.
“I guess you and me are gonna run a saloon and card emporium in Dodge City,” she said.
“I guess we’re gonna. If I can pay for it.”
“How much will it cost?”
“A lot.”
“How much you got?”
“Not much.”
“So what are we gonna do?”
I smiled. “What if I told you I know where there’s a trunk hid under a man’s bed that might be filled with cash or gold?”
Gentry’s face bloomed into a beautiful smile. “I’d like to see it!”
“Even if it turns out there’s no money in it?”
“Either way, it’ll be an adventure, and we’ll be together.”
It was, and we were.
About the Author
John Locke is the best-selling author of five novels including Saving Rachel. He lives in Kentucky, where he is nearing completion of his sixth Donovan Cre
ed novel, A Girl Like You.
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