Long Road to Cheyenne

by Charles G. West

  Supper that evening found the ladies in good spirits, Mary because of a semblance of normal living with a roof over her head and four walls surrounding her. Ardella, on the other hand, was always in high spirits, and would have been had she been bunking in the stable with Cam. When Cam walked into the dining room, Emma immediately summoned him to sit beside her, which he did. They had seated themselves around one end of a table long enough to handle a dozen or more. The food was good, although not fancy, but to this party fresh off the plains, it bordered on exotic, with beef, fried potatoes, field peas, and biscuits, with a slice of honey cake for dessert.

  After Grace and Emma asked to be excused, and Mary told them not to wander away from the inn’s front porch, the adults remained at the table to drink coffee and consider what they should do from this point on. Mary was very much in favor of taking the stage in to Cheyenne, but there was still some concern about the safety of her fortune without Cam on hand to watch over it. They had come so far, and overcome so many dangers, that she felt that she would be devastated if she lost it this close to a major town and a place to secure her deposit. She had still not decided when they were interrupted by the sound of the southbound stage thundering into the station. They got up to witness the arrival, for usually the drivers liked to give the folks in the towns and changeover stations a big show by whipping up the horses to a gallop before dragging them to a sliding halt.

  Out on the front porch, they looked up the lane to the stage road to see the horses racing into the station with two familiar figures on the seat. Larry Bacon bent over the reins, driving the weary horses with the slap of his reins, while Bob Allen yelled encouragement in a singsong manner. The horses were pulled to a stop in front of the inn and Bob called out, “Chugwater Station! We’ll be stayin’ overnight. Step right on inside and Mrs. Kelly will fix you up with a room and some supper.” He climbed down and opened the coach door, holding it while the passengers disembarked. When the last one stepped down from the coach, he stuck his head inside to make sure he hadn’t missed anyone before closing the door. Glancing up toward the porch then, he stopped and muttered, “Well, I’ll be. . . . Larry, lookee here.”

  Larry looked over to see the smiling faces of Cam, Mary, and the two little girls, plus another grinning lady he didn’t recall seeing before. “Well, I’ll be . . .” he echoed. He hopped down to join Bob on the ground to help passengers with their luggage. “Didn’t know if we’d ever see you folks again,” he called out.

  After taking care of the passengers, they moved over to shake hands with Cam and give Mary a courteous nod of the head. “What are you folks doin’ here?” Bob asked, surprised that Cam was still accompanying Mary and her two daughters. “Did you find your brother-in-law?”

  “We found him,” Mary answered, then introduced Ardella. “This is a friend of ours,” she said, “Ardella, this is Bob Allen and Larry Bacon. They drove the stage we were on coming up from Cheyenne.”

  “The one that got held up?” Ardella asked.

  “That’s the one,” Bob replied, “and if it hadn’ta been for ol’ Cam here we’da all been bleachin’ our bones out on the prairie now.” He looked at Cam and grinned. “Which way you folks headin’ now?”

  “Cheyenne,” Cam answered. “Mary’s thinkin’ ’bout takin’ the stage on in. You run into any road agents between here and Cheyenne lately?”

  “No,” Bob said, “not for a long time, not since the army started sendin’ regular patrols along the road.” There was no further comment from either Cam or Mary, so Bob asked, “You folks goin’ inside for supper?”

  “We’ve already eaten,” Mary replied, “but we can go in with you and have some more coffee, and we’ll tell you what we’ve been doing since we saw you last.”

  “That sounds good,” Larry remarked. “I’ll join you as soon as I drive the horses down to the barn.”

  • • •

  “My Lord in heaven,” Bob Allen remarked after he had heard about all that had happened to them since they had said good-bye at Custer City. He gave Cam a shake of his head. “So you’re still healin’ up from that bullet you took, huh? Well, you look spunky as ever. Don’t he, Larry?” Larry answered with a grin. Bob then turned his attention to Ardella and commented, “And you lost your cabin and everythin’. I know that smarts some, but you’re hooked up with some fine folks now.”

  “Ardella’s going to help me run a boardinghouse in Fort Collins,” Mary said. “We’re going to build a brand-new building, have a big kitchen to feed our boarders, and everything.”

  “That sounds mighty nice,” Bob said, then turned to Ardella. “Are you gonna do the cookin’?”

  “Lord no,” she replied. “We wouldn’t wanna run the customers off. I ain’t much of a cook. Long Sam, that was my husband’s name, Long Sam Swift, he used to say he’d et road apples better’n my biscuits.”

  Bob’s eyes lit up and looked back at Mary. “I know where you can hire a jim-dandy cook, a Chinese woman—”

  “Japanese,” Larry interrupted.

  “Japanese,” Bob repeated. “And she’s one helluva cook.” Then he remembered. “You’ve et her cookin’ before, at Hat Creek.”

  “Atsuko,” Mary said, remembering the name. “You’re right, she’s a good cook, but what makes you think she wants to leave Hat Creek?”

  “Just from talkin’ to her,” Bob said. “She’s ready to live somewhere closer to a town.”

  “He’s fixin’ to ask her to marry him,” Larry said with a chuckle. “That’s why she might be leavin’ Hat Creek.” He prodded Bob on the shoulder. “But you’re tryin’ to get her to go to Cheyenne. You don’t want her to go to Fort Collins in Colorado Territory.”

  “Maybe we’ll talk about it later on when we’re farther along with our plans,” Mary said, but the idea intrigued her. Atsuko’s cooking could be a strong draw for customers.

  The conversation turned to other things then, and continued long after supper was finished. When it was time to put the children to bed, the party broke up. While Mary and Ardella took the girls back to their rooms, Cam let himself be persuaded to go with Larry and Bob to the small saloon at the front corner of the dining room. “Cam,” Ardella called after him, “wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to stop by the room and let’s take a look at that wound, if you ain’t gonna be too late. I ain’t gonna wait up for you.”

  “All right,” Cam said. “I’m just gonna take time for one drink.”

  “Now I know you’d best watch your step,” Bob baited him when they were out of earshot of the others. “That ol’ gal there might demand more’n you’re holdin’.” He and Larry laughed at the picture that inspired. Cam just shook his head as if exasperated.

  • • •

  Bob’s question regarding the cooking caused Ardella’s mind to question. Exactly what did Mary have in mind for her? Was she thinking of her as a possible cook? How long would Mary be willing to take her in? She wasn’t getting any younger. There had been no discussion about her role in Mary’s plans, and now that the immediate threat of danger was past, maybe things would be different. If Mary knew the real story about her marriage to Long Sam Swift, would she still want her to help run her boardinghouse? In the quiet of her room, she let her mind go back through the years, as she had done so many times before.

  Long Sam Swift did cut a rather impressive figure of a man when they were married. But Ardella was an innocent girl of fourteen, and Long Sam was a mature man of twenty-seven. The first few years of their marriage were fairly pleasant, she supposed, although she was little more than a squaw to him as they camped alone all over the territory. After a while, the novelty of his bride wore off, and his true nature began to emerge. As he aged, he became more and more intolerant of her slightest mistake, and her collection of scars began to multiply with his frequent beatings. She stood his abuse for thirty years, before deciding it was time she ended it. One nig
ht he came home drunk without the supplies he was supposed to have traded for his pelts. It was not the first time he had done so, causing them to have to do without basic staples, like coffee, flour, and sugar. She complained and received a broken nose for her trouble. The actual cause of Long Sam Swift’s death was an iron skillet applied to the side of his head with every ounce of strength her sturdy body could muster, and not the arrow of a Pawnee warrior. She had rehearsed the story of his death by a war party so many times in her mind that she had almost come to the point where she believed it was true. The years that followed his death were her happiest, and she found that she was very good company for herself. Times became more difficult as the years passed, however. The firing pin in his rifle broke and she didn’t know how to fix it, so she threw it off the cliff at the end of the rock ledge below her cabin, the same place she had rolled his body over the edge to drop to the bottom of the canyon. Five years after Long Sam’s death, his horse died, leaving her on foot and with a shotgun, good only for small game. But that was enough. There was enough small game to keep her supplied with meat, most of it caught with snares she taught herself to fashion. And then Cam and Mary and the two children wandered into her world, and she suddenly missed being with people. Contrary to what she had repeatedly told herself, she did not want to die an old woman alone. And she realized that, more than anything else, she wanted to go with Mary and the children. She would be a good aunt to Grace and Emma. Being around them made her feel young again. What if Mary finds out I killed my husband? she thought, then relaxed her mind. How in hell is she going to find out, if I don’t tell her? “We’ll make a go of it,” she said.

  “What?” Mary asked, entering the room just then.

  “Nothin’,” Ardella said, and gave her a big smile. “I was just thinkin’ how I can’t wait to get workin’ on your boardin’house with you.”

  Mary answered her smile with one in return. “Yes, we’ll make a go of it.”

  “That’s what I just said,” Ardella remarked. “Are the girls in bed?”

  “Yep. They’re just waiting for their aunt Ardella to come tuck ’em in.”

  “Well, I best not keep ’em waitin’.”

  • • •

  “Damn!” Cam grimaced as he replaced the shot glass on the bar. “It’s been so long since I took a drink of likker I forgot how much it burns.” He and his two friends stood at the small counter at the front end of the dining room. The bar was not a proper one, but served the purpose with a counter of wide planks resting on two beer barrels. Cam waved Larry away when he held the bottle over his glass for another shot. “No, thanks. One drink of that stuff is enough to suit me for a while.”

  “You know,” Bob commented, “I heard Mary tellin’ about how she was gonna build her a boardin’house, and what’s her friend’s name—Carmella?—is gonna help her run it. But I didn’t hear her say nothin’ ’bout you.”

  “Ardella,” Cam corrected.

  “Yeah, Ardella,” Bob said, “but I didn’t hear nothin’ ’bout you.”

  “Yeah, Cam,” Larry chimed in, “you’re still ridin’ with her. What are you gonna do? You gonna keep the lady happy every night after she’s worked all day?”

  “Yeah,” Bob echoed. “Has ol’ Mary put you out to stud?”

  “You know,” Cam told the two grinning faces, “the two of you ain’t got one bit brighter since the last time I saw you.” He shook his head in mock disgust.

  “Well, what are you aimin’ to do?” Bob asked. “I ain’t never heard you say. When you folks left us, you was just gonna guide her up to see her brother-in-law.”

  “I don’t know,” Cam answered, “drift, I reckon. I made a bargain with her that I’d see that she got where she wanted to go. So I reckon that’s Fort Collins. After that, I ain’t got no plans. Hell, you heard what happened to her brother-in-law. Do you think I shoulda just said, ‘So long, good luck’ and left her and those two little girls there?”

  “No, I reckon not,” Bob replied. “I was just japin’ you a little bit. I’da done the same as you. So would Larry. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.” It was obvious that he had touched a raw nerve in Cam’s mind.

  Cam recovered at once, realizing that he might have shown a hint of irritation. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m gettin’ a little touchy.” Hearing himself answer Bob’s questions made him realize that he really didn’t have any plans after Mary and the kids were safe. He hadn’t even thought about the day when he’d be through with them. When he really thought about it, the prospect made him feel kind of melancholy. He kinda liked being Emma’s uncle Cam, but what the hell would he do in Fort Collins? He had no trade of any kind. All he knew was cattle and horses, and he wasn’t ready to go back to that just yet. He had money from the weapons and saddle he had sold, an extra horse that was worth a little, plus he knew Mary would insist upon paying him handsomely for his services, no matter how much he protested that his price was forty dollars. “I reckon it’s time I turned in for the night,” he finally said. “What time will you be pullin’ outta here in the mornin’?”

  “Not till after breakfast,” Larry said. “We’ve got a short day tomorrow.”

  Cam nodded. “Well, I’ll see you in the mornin’,” he said, and left to go bed down with the horses. He was almost positive that Mary was going to take the stage to Cheyenne, but he would have to wait until he saw her at breakfast to decide if he was going to be on it with her.

  He walked out the front door of the inn and had started toward the stables before he remembered he had told Ardella that he would stop by her room so she could change the dressing on his wound. Hesitating, he almost decided to skip it, for already the wound was healing to his satisfaction and he was stronger every day. A slight smile crossed his lips then as he pictured the scolding he would suffer from Ardella in the morning. What the hell? he thought. It won’t hurt to put a clean bandage on it. He did an about-face and walked around to the back door.

  The two rooms that had been added to the original building were connected to it by a short hallway and an outside door in the middle. Cam took the two steps to the door, went to Ardella’s room, and rapped on the door, quietly, so as not to wake Mary and the girls if they were sleeping. Ardella opened the door at once. “Come on in, Cam. I was startin’ to think I was gonna have to go drag you outta the barn to take a look at that wound. Come on over here and set down on the bed. I got a pitcher of clean water and some fresh bandages. Mrs. Kelly gave me an old sheet to use for bandages.” When he had parked himself on the edge of the bed, she continued. “Take that shirt off so I can get at it.”

  She proceeded to untie the old bandage and went to work with a washcloth to clean away some of the dried blood. “Won’t be long before it won’t need no bandage,” she said. “You heal quick, just like Long Sam. The thing that helps it to heal fast like that is that poultice I slapped on there when I found you.”

  “I reckon,” Cam said, although he was not convinced it should deserve much of the credit.

  She finished cleaning the area around the wound and wrapped a fresh bandage across his chest and shoulder. “There you go. You can put your shirt back on now.” He was in the midst of pulling it on when the door suddenly opened and Mary walked in. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t know . . .” Obviously embarrassed, she didn’t finish her statement. “I should have knocked.”

  Ardella threw back her head and laughed at the shocked expression on Mary’s face. “Well, that’s all right. We was through, anyway, weren’t we, Cam?”

  “I reckon,” Cam replied, with no clue as to what Ardella found so hilarious, “soon as I get my shirt on. Then I reckon I’ll leave you ladies to get to bed.” Walking past Mary, he said, “I’ll see you in the mornin’ at breakfast. Have you pretty much decided to ride the stage on in to Cheyenne?” Mary nodded. “We can decide in the mornin’ what you wanna do with the horses.”

  After
the door closed, Ardella suggested to Mary that she might want Cam to take the horses to Cheyenne. “You’d most likely get a better price for ’em there. They might take ’em off your hands here, but I doubt they’d give you much money for ’em.” She studied Mary’s face closely, for she had read her first reaction when she walked into the room and found Cam getting his shirt on. To Ardella, there was no mistaking Mary’s concern. “Maybe you’d rather get rid of the horses here, so Cam can ride the stage with us.”

  “No,” Mary replied at once, then paused while she thought the matter over. Frightened by her reaction to the scene she at first thought she was walking in on, she feared she had developed an interest in her young guide beyond that of a paid employee. She promptly lectured herself that her reaction had been ridiculous to even imagine. Ardella was merely changing Cam’s bandage. The thought of anything beyond that was what Ardella found to be so amusing. But the discovery of deeper feelings for her soft-spoken protector troubled her a great deal, especially since she could not imagine a successful outcome for such a union. After a few more moments of thought on the matter, she told Ardella what she had decided. “I’m thinking of giving Cam those horses, as part of the payment I owe him. If we find we need horses when we get to Fort Collins, we’ll get them there. I don’t think we need Cam’s protection anymore. From here, into Cheyenne at least, we aren’t supposed to risk much danger of road agents. And if we do, I feel confident with Bob and Larry to see us through.”

  “Plus, you got me and my rifle,” Ardella interjected, “unless you’re fixin’ to turn me loose here, too.”

  “No, no,” Mary quickly responded. “I’m counting on you to stay with me. I need your help and your strength.” She patted the plaintive woman on the shoulder. “Besides, I couldn’t deprive my two girls of their aunt Ardella.”

  “Well, I’ll do my best to look out for you,” Ardella assured her, “but if a time comes when you think I ain’t pullin’ my share of the load, all you have to do is tell me and I’ll leave.”