by Alice Addy
“Are we home already?” a very sleepy and sweet Eve inquired, rubbing her eyes, trying to focus on the crowd. “What’s going on, Ty?”
“I don’t know, honey, but it don’t look good.” He could see the concerned looks on the faces of the townsfolk, and when they were spied, the people started mumbling and pointing to the young couple arriving in the wagon.
Ty brought the team to a halt in the middle of the street and hollered down, “Hey, what’s going on? Something happen at the Six Gun?”
Lisette, Meredith, and Laurie all rushed forward. It was obvious they had been crying and were very distraught. Instinctively, Ty grabbed Eve’s hand. In a calm voice that didn’t betray his real concern, Ty asked, “What’s going on, girls?” He looked over the heads of the crowd and didn’t see Whiskey or Frieda.
“Oh, Ty! It’s awful. Just awful,” cried a nearly hysterical Laurie.
Immediately, Eve stiffened as hard as a board and pulled away from Ty’s support. “What’s awful, Laurie? Tell me. Is Whiskey hurt or Aunt Frieda ill?”
Lisette had her arm around Meredith, lending her the courage to speak.
“Miss Eve, I don’t want to be the one to tell ya, but,” . . . she sobbed twice before she could continue. “Frieda was found at the bottom of the stairs with her neck broke. She’s dead, Eve, and Whiskey’s done lost his mind.” The saloon girl then broke down into hysterical weeping and Lisette was doing no better.
Eve stood up, dry-eyed, and looked over the faces of the people she knew so well. The crowd hushed its mumblings and waited for the reaction of Miss Frieda’s niece. One man, in particular, waited in the shadows to see her response.
Sam Garrison had a clear view of the entire scene. Oh how sad, he thought. The poor, spoiled, little girl has lost her auntie and now she’ll have to ask for assistance to run that saloon. He snarled with satisfaction. Everything was working out better than he’d originally planned. How did he know the senile old man would take off?
Sam’s gaze searched the horizon for a glimpse of the lone horseman’s arrival. He was due at any moment. Young Mr. Fenton would soon be getting some bad news of his own.
Ty helped Eve down from the wagon and followed her into the saloon. The crowd, out in the street, remained silent as a sign of respect for this little family. Frieda was well thought of and everyone loved Eve.
The old doctor was still attending to the body lying crumpled at the base of the stairs, when Eve approached. The sheriff was there and the undertaker was waiting quietly, at a table. Eve tiptoed over to the scene of the accident, seemingly having no desire to wake her aunt, and started to tremble; but still, the tears did not come.
“Is my aunt dead?” she asked in a soft voice, quivering with emotion. Eve knew the answer to her question, even before she asked, but she needed to hear the doctor say the words.
The old man knew what she needed to hear. “Yes, my dear. Your aunt tripped from the very top of the stairs and died instantly upon reaching the bottom. She felt no pain, I can assure you. We will be removing her to the undertakers and then on to the church, if that meets with your approval?”
Eve looked up at her tower of strength, standing just behind her. “Is that all right, Ty?”
Tears filled his eyes. “Yes, my darling. That’s all right.”
Looking back at the kind doctor and the old sheriff, Eve nodded once and then knelt down in front of her dear, sweet aunt. Lifting Frieda’s cold hand up to her cheek, she felt the first tear make its way down her face. “Oh, Frieda. I’m going to miss you so. I wanted to tell you that you were right. I did find my one true love, just as you said I would. He’s the young cowboy you liked . . . Ty Fenton. We’ll take care of each other, so you don’t have to worry about me anymore.” Eve leaned forward and kissed Frieda’s cheek and whispered in her ear, “Thank you for everything. I love you—mama.” She had been dearer than any aunt could have ever been, and Eve felt fortunate to have had two loving and caring mothers in her life.
At that moment, a dirty and unscrupulous looking rider came bursting through the doors of the saloon. After looking around the room, he strode up to Ty. “You Ty Fenton?” he asked breathlessly.
Ty nodded.
“I got an urgent message for ya. Your pa says to come home quick. There was a fire and he needs ya.”
Ty’s face went white. “A fire? Is anybody hurt?”
“Don’t know nothin’ more. I was just told to find ya and give ya the message. Some cowpoke rode in and was in a real big hurry to get back.”
“Oh, my God.” He turned and looked at Eve. What was he to do? She was in shock and this was not the best time to tell her of his troubles. He walked over to Lisette and told her he couldn’t stay, even though he knew he should. His ma and pa were elderly and they needed him.
“Take care of her for me?” he pleaded.
Lisette nodded. “Don’t you worry, Ty. The girls and I will hold down the fort ‘til you get back. Whiskey will bounce back and help us. Things will be just fine. You go on and take care of your ranch. I’ll explain everything to Eve in a few days.” The beautiful woman smiled, sincerely. “Go on, and be safe, cowboy.”
Ty took Eve in his arms and held her for the longest time, allowing her to weep and give into her grief. He tried to comfort her and lend her whatever strength she needed. In return, he received an overwhelming desire to protect her. With his lips buried in her fragrant hair, he whispered, “I love you.”
Practically everyone in town turned out to see Mrs. Birdsong laid to rest. She had been an asset to the community and was going to be missed by many. Everyone was there—with the exception of Whiskey. No one had seen him since the day of the terrible accident.
Laurie told Eve that when Frieda was discovered, a gut-wrenching roar of anguish reverberated throughout the entire saloon. The sound of it was so horrible; it caused her to tremble with fear. As she ran into the main salon, she found Whiskey gently rocking Frieda back and forth, in his beefy arms, with a strange, wild glimmer in his eyes. “He looked like an animal caught in a steel trap,” she recalled. “He didn’t know which way to turn or what to do. It was terrifying to look upon. No one saw him leave, but he was gone soon after the doctor carried Frieda to her room.”
There were rumors of people seeing the despondent man in various areas of town, but no one could actually say where he had gone. It was as if he’d up and vanished, leaving Eve to run the saloon by herself. But without Whiskey’s guidance, she didn’t have a clue as to the daily operation of the business, nor was her heart invested in it. Frieda had been the soul of the Six Gun—not Evie, not even Whiskey. Her attempts at managing the business were half hearted, and it showed.
The girls did their best to assist her, but no one was prepared for the everyday running of a successful enterprise. None of them had ever placed orders with suppliers. They didn’t know how to tend bar, and they didn’t have the strength to enforce the rules. The Six Gun was quickly spiraling out of control and falling into chaos.
Sam gleefully observed the goings on—from a distance. He could see he was the only one thinking clearly, and it was time for him to take the bull by the horns and do what must be done. This was his golden opportunity, the culmination of all his hard won pursuits.
He walked across the street and stood defiantly in the open doors. He knew his reception would be cold, at best, but he didn’t expect to find downright hostility. He spied Eve working behind the empty bar, looking frazzled and unkempt, her uncombed hair hanging limply across her forehead and down over her eyes. Her wrinkled apron was covered in spilled liquor.
“Eve, I need to speak to you and with the rest of the girls. It’s important that you make some serious decisions soon.” His eyes slowly surveyed the dirty hall. “Call them to the kitchen, where I’ll explain our plans for the future of the new saloon.” The tone of his voice left no room for indecision or refusal. Eve simply nodded.
Sam had suggested the kitchen because it was a place of com
fort for them. Frieda had held all her meetings there. More importantly, it was out of sight of the stairs. It would do him no good for the silly women to fall apart, just now. “Go on, sweetheart. Do as I say. Gather the girls,” he said softly. Revenge was sweet, he thought, and he could afford to be gentle.
Eve wanted to scream at him and tell him they didn’t want to hear anything he had to say, but obviously, they needed someone to advise them as what to do. Begrudgingly, she left to do his bidding.
Hoping they were doing the right thing, the small group of apprehensive women sat at the table, waiting patiently for Sam to give them their instructions. Eve was there in body, if not in mind. She appeared stunned to see Sam in the room, and she was barely able to comprehend the reason for it. There were things she should say, but her throat was so constricted it rendered her mute. She couldn’t refute him, and with the knowledge of that, despair filled her soul, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.
The tall man came to his feet, and with a great sense of authority and control, he stared down upon the women before him. In a loud and powerful voice, he began.
“First, I need to know if any of you have plans of your own.” He looked from one face to the next.
Laurie cleared her throat. “Well, actually, for some time now, I’ve been thinking of taking the train and going back home. I don’t know why I left in the first place. I guess I felt my ma made me work too hard, and then when she wouldn’t let me see the boy I loved, I just took off.” Her eyes started to fill with unshed tears. “I miss her, and maybe Tom is still waiting for me . . . of course, I’ve changed some. But maybe he won’t care too much.” Meredith gently squeezed her hand.
Sam, knowing he had to gain the women’s trust, smiled at the young woman. “If he really loved you before, he’ll still love you now. If he doesn’t . . . well then, you dodged a bullet—consider yourself lucky.
“I’ve decided to help Eve turn this place around,” he announced. “She’s not herself yet, and she needs special care, for the time bein’. I hope she decides to reopen the saloon, but I’ll not force her.” He knew just what to say. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to run the Six Gun. I have loved this place from the first time I stepped through those swingin’ doors. But Eve’s welfare is what’s most important now. Who knows? Maybe Whiskey’ll come back tomorrow and kick my ass to the street. He’s done it before.” He chuckled, but inside, his fury raged. “I’ll go quietly,” he said sincerely. Like hell, he thought to himself.
Meredith decided to divulge her decision. “Well, I ain’t hangin’ around here. I’m gonna’ hitch a ride outta’ Hays City and head for Dodge. It’s growin’ fast and there’s a need for beautiful gals, like me, to keep makin’ those rich cowboys happy,” she laughed. “I hear tell, they have saloons and dance halls that are so fancy that they serve things like anchovies and caviar. That’s fish eggs.” She grimaced. “Well, anyway, you can get brandies, liqueurs, and even cold beer. I’m thinkin’ about dancin’, too. I’ve been watchin’ our little Evie.” She grinned, shyly. “I hear the Atchison, Topeka, & Sante Fe runs right through the center o’ town, and I’m gonna’ follow those tracks to my new and glorious future. Wish me luck, girls.” She was purely excited with the thought of a new adventure.
Sam smiled at the woman. She was strong and he knew she would be just fine. And more importantly, he didn’t want her around to put ideas into Eve’s head. Eve should listen only to him. “That’s a good and sound plan, Meredith. This place will miss you,” he said, feeling better and better by the minute.
Lisette was shocked. Meredith had never said anything to her about wanting to move on. Maybe that was because they were such good friends and Lisette had stated, more than once, that she planned to stay right here, in Hays City, for the remainder of her life. She had travelled her entire youth and had decided to put down permanent roots in Hays City.
“I’ll miss you, Mere. Will you promise to write?” Lisette asked, on the verge of tears. She was losing a woman as close as any sister could have been, and she knew they would never see each other again.
The other woman nodded, and then excused herself from the room.
“Lisette, that leaves you. Got any plans?” Sam wanted to know what this spitfire was going to do. So far, everything had gone better than he had expected. It was good to clear out the old wood, before bringing in the new.
The beautiful woman sat up straight and patted her hair, trying to think of an answer. “I’m going to be just dandy, Sam. There are several saloons right here, in Hays City, which I might check out; see if one suits my taste. They’ll be damned lucky to get Lisette Beauregard.” She sniffed and turned her head away, refusing to allow anyone to see her cry.
“They will at that,” Sam stated. “Do you have any money to tide you over ‘til you pick the lucky saloon?”
She shook her head. Lisette earned quite a lot of money, but she was always the most expensively dressed woman in town, and it was not commonly known among the people she worked with, but she gave freely to those who were in need. There were many in Hays City, which had benefited from her generosity.
“Well, don’t you worry none. I happen to know that Mrs. Birdsong and Whiskey were planning on giving you all a little gift, if they should ever close up. It was—” Sam had to remember how much cash he had stolen from Frieda and stashed under the floorboards. It wouldn’t hurt to use a tiny bit of it to help get these women out of here and away from Eve. “I believe it was thirty dollars each. You can pick it up at the bar in about an hour. I hope that will help you some.”
At this point, Lisette was crying a copious amount of tears. “Thank you, Sam. I always knew you were a good guy under those fancy duds, and I want to apologize for thinking you may have had something to do with the awful events that happened here, recently. Thank you for your kindness.”
Letting out a huge sigh of relief, Sam announced that all was decided. “You go on and have a good life. I’ll see you around.”
After Lisette left the room, leaving Sam and Eve alone, he lit up a cheroot, and settled back in his chair. Blowing smoke rings high into the air, Sam grinned, feeling better than he had felt in months. It had been a successful meeting and he was more than pleased with the outcome. He glanced over at Eve and shook his head in wonder. He could tell by the empty look on her face, that she had heard nothing of what had been discussed.
CHAPTER SIX
Due to the tragedy in town and the strange message from the rider, Ty arrived home much earlier than expected. He sighed with relief as he looked upon his house and barn, still standing. The lamps were burning in the parlor. He loved his home and everything within it. This ranch was his life, and he hoped Eve would come to appreciate it too, for he would like to share it with her, one day.
Ty drove the wagon to the barn, unhitched the team, rubbed them down and fed them well, before walking up to the house. He sniffed the cool, evening air. There was no sign of a fire. By the time he reached the porch, his pa was holding the door open.
“You’re home early, son,” the old man stated. “Did you run into trouble? I noticed the wagon is empty.”
“Yeah, there was trouble. Frieda Birdsong, owner of the Six Gun Saloon, died today. Fell and broke her neck. The burial will be tomorrow and Eve will be left alone. I hated leaving her to deal with this by herself, but you needed me.”
“Who’s this Eve you speak about?” The old man ignored the last part of Ty’s comment.
“She’s the gal I intend to marry,” Ty stated proudly.
“Marry!” his mother exclaimed. She had just entered the room when she heard him declare his intent. “Ty! You can’t be serious. You can’t marry a saloon girl. I won’t allow it.” His ma was getting ready to have a ‘Fenton’ fit. “Those women are of loose morals. They don’t make good wives. Tell him, John. Tell your son he can’t be serious.”
“Now, Cora, calm down. You know our son wouldn’t do anything so foolish as all that. Ty has al
ways done the right thing. I think we should hear him out. Sit down dear, and let him say his piece.”
“Thanks, pa. First of all, ma, she’s not a saloon girl. Eve was just raised in one. That’s all. Eve doesn’t serve drinks or get friendly with the customers—not the way you think. She’s proper—even shy. She dances sometimes, but she has the voice of an angel. Really. You must hear her sing, ma. She’s the sweetest creature on earth and I can’t believe that she loves me.”
His ma still looked unconvinced, but he sure sounded like a man in love. “Oh, Ty,” she moaned, as she slowly shook her head. “Maybe that’s just what she wants you to believe. She sings and dances for men in a saloon.”
Ty ignored his mother’s criticism. “She’s taking her aunt’s death, real bad. I’m worried about her and I was hoping you might be able to do something for her, Ma. If she gets sick—I don’t know what I’ll do.”
Cora stood up and dabbed her eyes with the corner of her apron. “All right, son. Never let it be said that I didn’t do my Christian duty. How can I help her from way out here, on the ranch?”
“I was thinking, on the ride home, that maybe I could bring her out here to rest and get her strength back. She’s got no business running that saloon, now or ever. Whiskey—her sort of uncle—will do just fine without her. I want her to get to know you and pa. I need for you to get to know and love her, ma. She means the world to me.”
Cora stood and thought for a moment. This was the time she knew would someday come. Her son had fallen in love with another woman and she was being replaced in her son’s heart. She stood on her toes and gave her son a kiss. “I’ll do whatever I can, dear, and your young lady is most welcome in our home. I’m glad you’re back, son.” She went off to her bedroom, a little teary eyed.
John started to follow his wife to bed, when he stopped, and looked deep into his son’s eyes. “I hope you know what you’re doin’, Ty . . . for both your sakes.”