It took a while for Kate to find the words, and then she said, “How . . . I mean, how much land would you need?”
“Not much, dear lady, just ten to fifteen acres, a small corner, the merest morsel of your range.”
“But, Mr. Cody, the Kerrigan ranch can’t feed that many people, to say nothing of the animals. Our winter graze is thin and our supply of hay limited. I do not wish to sound uncharitable, but—”
“Fear not, dear Kate. Buffalo Bill’s Wild West is self-sufficient. We have to be since we travel all over the country and around the world. We bring our own food, fodder for the stock, and even our own cooking stoves and firewood. All we need is said railroad spur and a small patch of ground amid your boundless acres.”
Bill sat back in his chair and flashed his most winning smile. “Now, being a businesswoman as well as a rancher, I’m sure the thought uppermost in your mind is remuneration. In short, how much will Mr. Cody pay me?”
In fact, payment was the last thing on Kate’s mind, filled as it was with visions of stampeding buffalo, wild Indians, and even wilder cowboys.
“Ah,” said Bill, “I see that good breeding makes you hesitate to name a figure that would be agreeable to both parties. Well, I will not beat about the bush, dear lady. Three things cannot be hidden—the sun, the moon, and the truth. And the truth is that you see before you a man in the most impecunious circumstances. The bank won’t let me draw breath, and as a result I’m down to my last tail feather. In a nutshell, I’m broke.”
“Mr. Cody, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Kate said.
“Do not despair, dear lady, I beseech you,” Bill said. “Come spring, we leave on our European tour and I will soon recoup my finances. A letter from the British Ambassador in Washington informs me that Queen Victoria is eagerly awaiting our arrival. The lady is, Lord Barclay told me, all in a dither. As for the Kaiser, he is looking into providing buffalo sausage for his army, vittles that will be named after my humble self. The British say they’ll be called Bill’s Bangers, but I don’t set any store by that. The British and Germans are never on very good speaking terms.”
Kate glanced at the watch that hung around her neck from a silver chain and Buffalo Bill took the hint. “What I offer in remuneration, my dear Kate, is to provide a show on the day before our departure just for the Kerrigan ranch. There! What do you think of that? Is that not a handsome offer indeed?”
“A show, Mr. Cody?” Kate said.
“Indeed, madam. You will be the first to see, before even Queen Victoria or the Kaiser, such new spectacles as The First Scalp for Custer and Buffalo Bill Saves the Mexican Maiden. And you will meet our shining new star, the amazing lady sharpshooter Annie Oakley, the Texas Bluebonnet.”
To Bill, the fact that Annie was born in Ohio was neither here nor there. On tour she changed birthplaces as often as she changed her dress.
His face anxious, he said, “Well, dear lady, do we have an agreement? As my old friend Wild Bill Hickok, God rest him, was wont to say, shall we make this a happy day?”
Feeling more than a little overwhelmed, it took Kate a few moments before she replied. Hesitantly, she said, “Well, I suppose so, Mr. Cody, so long as your being here doesn’t interfere with the work of my ranch.”
Bill beamed. “Be assured, dear lady, that our presence here will hardly be noticed, even by your cows. My people will keep to themselves and I assure you that even the savages, those panthers of the plains who led the gallant Custer to his destruction, will remain in their teepees. In short, we’ll be as quiet as church mice.”
Kate rose to her feet. “Then it is settled. When do you wish to move onto a campground?”
“Today, dear lady. Instanter!” Bill said. “I have already taken the liberty of pulling my train onto the spur, but I told the engineer to keep up steam in the doleful event that you saw fit to turn me down.”
It seemed to Kate that Bill Cody’s powerful personality lacked neither charm nor confidence.
“I’ll have Frank Cobb, my segundo, help you choose a campsite, Mr. Cody. He’s out on the range at the moment with my sons, but I expect him to return shortly and I’ll have him meet you at the spur terminal.” Then, in a deliberate attempt to regain the initiative, Kate said, “This winter I plan to expand my range west as far as the Rio Grande and south to the big bend of the Nueces. In the coming weeks you will see my riders coming and going, but please tell your people not to be alarmed. My men mean them no harm.”
“Ha! An expanding cattle empire indeed, Mrs. Kerrigan,” Bill said.
“And hard won, Mr. Cody, with many battles against man and nature still to be fought. Now, let me show you to the door. It has been indeed a pleasure talking to you. You must come again and I will bake a sponge cake to mark the occasion. My cake, with a cream and strawberry jam filling, is old Queen Vic’s favorite, you know.”
“And I will be sure to tell her that I ate a piece under this very roof,” Bill said. “I know the old lady will be very impressed.”
Once outside, Buffalo Bill Cody mounted a milk-white stallion with an ornate silver saddle. And being Bill, he made the horse rear as he waved his hat above his head before galloping away, sitting tall and straight in the saddle.
Kate watched him go and then whispered to herself, “You have the trappings of a gallant knight indeed, Mr. Cody, but something tells me that I’m not going to enjoy having you for a neighbor.”
As Bill Cody himself might have said, “Truer words were never spoke.”
Twelve Dead Men Page 28