Day of the Wolf

by Charles G. West

  Lorena threw her head back and let forth a lusty laugh. “Who let the preacher in here? Is that a proposal of marriage? If it is, I accept. When do you wanna tie the knot?”

  Embarrassed by her response, he was too flustered to respond. Rose stepped in to save him. “Lorena, don’t tease him. You know what he was trying to say, and it was sweet of him to think you could settle down somewhere.” Turning to him then, she said, “That would be a really nice thing, to marry someone and have a home and family. I’d like to do that, but it’s too late for me.”

  “You’re still young,” Wolf said. “It’s not too late for you.”

  She smiled, but there was a look of regret in her eyes. “It’s too late,” she stated simply.

  Not one to miss much, Lorena saw the wistful look in Rose’s eyes, and knew that Wolf did not. She understood Rose’s feelings, but was frankly at a loss as to why the young woman had set her sights upon Wolf. If there was ever a man less likely to settle down with a wife to homestead and raise a family, she would like to meet him. Hell, she thought, he ain’t even got a last name. Wolf—what kind of name is that? She was fond of Wolf, too, but as she might be fond of a dog. A big guard dog, one kept for protection, she told herself with a smile. She didn’t see any chance of taming the naive young man. He was destined to live among the creatures of the wild, and would more than likely meet with an untimely and violent death as a result. It’s too bad, she thought, but just like Rose, it’s too late for him. And Rose? She should have married that lovesick soldier at Fort Laramie. It’s sad to say, but she’ll end up just like me. She chuckled to herself then when she thought, I hope she learns to be satisfied with it as much as I am. “Let’s get on down there and see what we can stir up,” she suggested. Looking at Wolf then, she said, “Well, you got us through safe and sound. I reckon you’ll be on your way again to wherever you’ve a mind to now.”

  “Looks like you woulda got here by yourself,” he replied, “since we didn’t run into any trouble and the weather wasn’t too bad.” The temptation to do as she said and leave them now was hard to resist, but he had unknowingly developed a sense of responsibility for their safety. So he hesitated for a few moments before deciding. “I reckon I’ll go down there with you to help you get settled before I go.” He was still gazing down the hill at the beehive that was Deadwood Gulch, so he didn’t see the broad smiles that spread across all three of the women’s faces.

  His stay extended past the day or two he had anticipated. Billie Jean parked Lorena’s wagon a little way up the north side of the gulch where the rude beginnings of a street had been carved out of the hill. There was room for only one main street down the length of the gulch, and that was already staked off in forty placer-mining claims. The particular variety of mining that the three prostitutes were interested in did not need a site next to the creek. Ever resourceful and never shy, Lorena soon made contact with an aspiring entrepreneur named Marvin Sloan. Sloan had already established a saloon but was looking for ways to claim more of the miners’ harvests. At Lorena’s suggestion, an extension was soon under construction on the back to expand his building to accommodate the women. It would be big enough to provide a room for each of them. In the interim, Lorena, Billie Jean, and Rose would camp in the wagon until their rooms were ready. There was some concern for the women’s safety while camping in the wagon, but this was only on Wolf’s part. Billie Jean assured him that she could handle any unruly drunks who sought to take advantage of them. The temporary quarters did not delay the start of business, although it did make things awkward at times. However, the arrangement was enough to hurry Wolf on his way. As soon as he saw they were settled, he bade them farewell, saying he might stop back to see them in the summer. The three women stood by the wagon and watched him ride away, leading Brownie along behind him.

  “I kinda liked having him around,” Billie Jean commented. “Kinda like having a pet rattlesnake, but he don’t belong in a town like this. He might scalp somebody.”

  “He’ll be back,” Lorena said as he disappeared into the busy street below, heading for the other side of the gulch.

  “You really think so?” Rose asked hopefully.

  “Hell, I know he will,” Lorena replied.

  “How do you know?” Billie Jean pressed. She figured that this was the last they’d see of their strange guide and protector.

  “’Cause he ain’t got nobody else,” Lorena said, confident in her logic. “Except for some Crow Injuns he lived with a few years ago, he ain’t got nobody but three old whores. We’re his family, even if he don’t know it.”

  “But being alone is what he claims he wants,” Billie Jean argued. “All he’s talked about ever since we met up with him is about how bad he wants to get back in the mountains where there ain’t nobody else around.”

  “He’ll be back,” Lorena insisted. She looked at Rose and smiled as she said it. But not too soon, I hope. She and Billie Jean could still bring in a few bucks, but not usually until the hour was late and the whiskey bottles were low. She needed Rose to land some of the early drinkers. Lorena was realistic enough to know that she had only a year or two left before she would be too old to perform. When that time came, she intended to have a business set up with more girls like Rose to service the customers. Billie Jean was younger than she, but Billie Jean had not been blessed with gentle feminine traits. Rose was the future, at least for Lorena Parker. Realizing then that Rose was gazing at her hopefully, she repeated, “He’ll be back.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Rose said.

  Seeing the wistful look in the young girl’s eyes, Lorena felt a slight tinge of guilt for planning so heavily on her to generate business. But hell, she told herself, I didn’t start her out in this business. She was a whore when she first came to me.

  Chapter 11

  He looked around him. It was time to move his camp. It had been a good winter camp, but it was truly summer now and it was time to follow the animals out of the canyons and valleys and hunt while the meat was plentiful and the grass was green with new growth. Already, his bay and Ned’s red roan were fattening up from the winter just passed. There were other things on his mind as well. He needed supplies, mainly flour and coffee. They had helped to make the winter more bearable and he had been out of both for quite a while. And cartridges—he needed to keep a good supply of rifle cartridges. There were plenty of reasons for him to ride back to Deadwood without having to admit to himself that the primary reason was to see how Lorena and the girls were taking to the gold mining town. It was strictly a matter of curiosity, he told himself, and there was nothing wrong with that. He had spent a large portion of his life in a Crow village, and Crows were naturally curious. With that justification, he packed up his camp on this clear summer morning and headed back through the mountains to Deadwood.

  It was early afternoon by the time he reached the gulch where he had escorted the three prostitutes, and he was amazed to discover the growth that had taken place in such a short time. Seeing the greater number of people and buildings, he considered turning around and beating a hasty retreat, his usual reaction to busy towns. But, he told himself, I’ve come this close, I might as well look in on the ladies. Besides, I’ve brought them some fine cuts of smoked venison I know they’d be glad to get—Billie Jean, for sure. So he prodded the bay with his heels and followed the winding road down into the gulch.

  He didn’t remember the man’s name who owned the saloon where the women had planned to move in, but he remembered the building. Even so, he had to pause for a few moments when he reined his horses to a halt in front of it, for it now proclaimed itself to be THE STAR OF DEADWOOD. Before it had simply said SALOON. Though it was early afternoon, the saloons were doing plenty of business, and the Star was no exception, causing him to hesitate again. “I’ll just have a quick look inside,” he told Brownie as he tied him to the hitching rail. He turned then to pull his rifle out of his saddle sling and stepped up on the stoop.

  Marvi
n Sloan was tending bar in his establishment when Wolf walked in the door and stood there for a few moments scanning the room and the early evening collection of customers. His first thought was Here comes trouble, certain that Wolf was one of the occasional uncivilized mountain men who wandered into town to get likkered up and raise a little hell after spending the winter in a snow cave somewhere. Something about this one looked familiar, however. Then he remembered. This was the one they called Wolf that Lorena Parker had rolled into town with. Recognizing Sloan’s face, Wolf walked up to the bar. “You want a drink?” Sloan asked. “Or are you looking to find Lorena or one of the other two ladies?”

  “Lorena,” Wolf answered.

  “I thought so,” Sloan said. “Look here, I hope you ain’t coming to talk her into moving on somewhere else, ’cause I spent a lot of money addin’ those rooms on the back, and she guaranteed me she would bring in enough business to cover the cost.”

  “If she guaranteed it, then I expect she’ll do it,” Wolf replied. “She usually does what she sets out to do. I just came for a visit. Then I’ll be on my way.”

  Relieved, Sloan pointed toward the back of the room. “Go through that door there to the hallway. Lorena’s in room number one.” Wolf nodded and promptly turned toward the door. Sloan wondered if he should have asked him if he could read numbers. It was hard to see him as anything other than a creature of the wild, maybe the one he was named for.

  Lorena Parker opened her door to the light tapping that came only moments before she planned to leave the room to work the tables in the saloon. “Well, I’ll be!” she exclaimed. “I figured that was Marvin knockin’ on my door, wantin’ me to get out there to help him sell more whiskey. I knew it wasn’t a customer this early. How in the hell are you, Wolf? I’m glad to see the Injuns ain’t caught up with you yet. You look mean as ever.” She finally paused then, long enough for him to respond.

  “I brought you some deer meat” was his simple response.

  “What?” she replied, surprised by his choice of gifts, but she recovered quickly. “Deer meat—well, that’ll come in mighty handy,” she said, at once hoping that it was not in great quantity and wondering what she would do with it if it was. “I’ll give it to Marvin’s cook and see if he knows how to fix it.” Changing the subject, she said, “Come on, we’ll let Billie Jean and Rose know you’re here. They’ll be tickled. I know Rose will, especially.” She took him by the arm and led him down the hall, but stopped abruptly when she saw a little sign that said COME BACK LATER hanging on each doorknob. “Well, looks like they’re both busy. Never mind, we’ll just go in the saloon and have us a little drink. They won’t be long.” She took his arm again and turned him back toward the door to the saloon.

  “I’ll just have a glass of beer,” he told her as they walked into the half-filled saloon. “That hard likker makes me unsteady on my feet.”

  “Is that a fact?” she replied. “Most men think it makes ’em big and strong, and the best lovers in the territory.” She led him to a table in a corner close to the back door. “We’ll catch the girls as soon as they come back,” she said, then went to the bar to get their drinks.

  They had not sat there long when the back door opened and a gray-whiskered miner came into the saloon, still hitching up his trousers, followed closely behind by Billie Jean. “Come see me when you get it up again,” she said to the man, who made straight for the front door. Billie Jean laughed and nudged Lorena on the shoulder. “That’ll be in about six months,” she giggled. Having paid no attention to the man drinking with Lorena, she glanced at him then and immediately took a step back. “As I live and breathe,” she exclaimed. “I swear, I didn’t think we’d ever see you again around this hellhole. What brings you out of those mountains you love so much?”

  “I brought you some deer meat,” Wolf said, repeating the same simple statement he had made to Lorena.

  Billie Jean, however, reacted with much more enthusiasm for his offering. “Hot damn,” she responded, “that’ll be a treat. We’ve been eating so much pork till we’re starting to look like hogs. I’d almost forgot how good that fresh venison tasted when we were driving that wagon from Hat Creek.” He showed his appreciation for her response with a shy smile, which inspired Billie Jean to continue. “Look there, Lorena, right there. Did you see that? That’s Wolf’s version of a big grin.” Turning back to Wolf, she gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. “Where is that meat?”

  “On my packhorse out front,” he said. “I’ll go get it for you.” He got to his feet.

  “I’ll help you,” Billie Jean said, and they started toward the door.

  Just shy of reaching the front door, they heard Rose scream across the noisy barroom. “Wolf!” she yelled. “Wait!”

  The man following her into the room suddenly grabbed her by the front of her blouse and demanded, “What did you call him?”

  “Wolf,” she replied. “That’s his name. Now let me go before you tear my blouse.”

  He cast her aside violently and drew the pistol from the holster and gun belt he was carrying in his hand. “Wolf!” Boyd Dawson called out defiantly, and aimed the revolver at the startled man already turning around in response to Rose’s outburst. Impassioned by his craving for vengeance and shaking uncontrollably at the chance meeting with his brother’s killer, he fired twice. The first shot missed, smashing the window beside the front door. The second shot found Wolf in the side, causing him to stagger against the door frame and slide down on one knee, his rifle clattering to the floor. The next moments were filled with instant chaos. Rose screamed again, this time horrified; customers scrambled to take cover behind overturned tables; Billie Jean was stunned speechless. Boyd, his target seriously wounded, paused to take more careful aim. Lorena, always the quick thinker, was close enough to Boyd to launch her substantial body into him, knocking him sideways and spoiling his aim. Furious, Boyd regained his balance enough to keep from falling, and turned his gun on Lorena. Before he could pull the trigger, Rose grabbed his arm and sank her teeth into his wrist. By the time he managed to pull her off him, Billie Jean had snatched Wolf’s rifle from the floor and handed it to him.

  With blood already soaking his deerskin shirt, and his mind clouded with confusion over the sudden attack, Wolf nevertheless reacted instinctively. Even as the room began to spin around in his head, he automatically cranked a cartridge into the chamber and pulled the trigger. His shot slammed Boyd low on his breastbone, causing him to stagger backward against the door to the hall, where he stood staring in disbelief. Wolf’s next shot finished him and he slid down the doorjamb to sit slumped in death.

  Billie Jean went quickly to Wolf’s side, followed immediately by Rose and Lorena, and the three women tried to stop the blood pumping out of his wound. Lorena pulled up her skirt, ripped off a large piece of her petticoat, and stuffed it against the bullet hole. Wolf stared at them with eyes still glazed and confused for only a few minutes before his natural instincts took over again and he started to pull himself up on his feet. His efforts only increased the flow of blood, causing all three women to plead with him to lie still. But the only thought in his mind was to retreat to his camp in the mountains as any wounded animal would do.

  “Please don’t try to get up,” Rose pleaded.

  A little more gruffly, Lorena demanded, “Whaddaya tryin’ to do, drag yourself off in the woods somewhere to die? Sit still, dammit!”

  Giving in to their insistence, he sank back to a sitting position, oblivious of all the activity in the saloon as patrons set tables upright again, picked up glasses from the floor, and gawked at the dead man. A circle of spectators gathered around the three whores trying to tend to the wounded man. One of them was Marvin Sloan, who was anxious to get his saloon back in order. “Who was he?” Wolf finally managed to ask.

  “He said his name was Boyd Dawson,” Rose replied, her face reflecting the deep concern she felt for the wounded man.

  “Why did he shoot me?” Wolf asked
when there was no recollection of anyone by that name.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know. He just went crazy.”

  “Well, we need to get him someplace where we can see to that wound,” Lorena said. “And send somebody down to the barbershop to get Doc.”

  “We can take him to my room,” Rose volunteered.

  “You need to take him someplace else,” Marvin interjected. “He told me him and his two brothers just got in town. It’s gonna get ugly when they find out he’s dead. They’ll be sure as hell lookin’ for your half-wild friend there, and I don’t want it to be in my saloon.”

  “I swear, you’re all heart, Marvin,” Lorena remarked sarcastically. “The man needs a doctor.”

  “I don’t wish him no harm,” Marvin insisted. “But I’ve got my business and my customers to think about, and I can’t take a chance on that man’s brothers comin’ in here shootin’ up the place and maybe killin’ who knows how many innocent folks.” He looked down at Wolf as if apologetic. “If we had a real sheriff, it might be different, but honest folks are up against the outlaws and murderers.” Looking back at Lorena then, he said, “If you don’t get him outta here right now, I’m kickin’ you and your two friends outta my business. If he goes, you can stay.”

  “I ain’t stayin’,” Wolf forced out between clenched teeth, trying to bite off the pain. His instinct told him that he would be an easy kill if he remained in town. He had no idea what the brothers looked like, and he knew he would stand a better chance if the meeting with them was on his terms, in the mountains where he was at home. Although his wound was serious and painful, he felt that it was not a mortal wound. However, he feared it would hamper his ability to fight, so his one thought was to escape this town and find a place to heal before the reckoning. He tried to rise, but found he was already weakening. Rose and Lorena grabbed him and pulled him up to his feet. “Help me get on my horse,” Wolf said. “I’ll be better off away from here.”