Forever, Victoria

by Dorothy Garlock

  When the wagon moved again, Mason, stripped of his bloody clothes and wrapped in blankets, lay on Gopher’s featherbed inside the wagon. He was either unconscious or in a drunken stupor, Pete didn’t know which. After Mason had drunk the whiskey Gopher had given him several spoonfuls of honey.

  “I learnt that from old Mr. McKenna,” Gopher had said. “He said that if’n a man loses his blood he needs the sweets. Remember that, young feller.”

  The wagon moved over the rough trail slowly and it was past noon when it pulled up beneath a tall cottonwood tree well back from the rail head. With Mason wounded Lud took over the job of negotiating the sale of the Double M cattle.

  The news spread among the hands that Mason had been shot down by a hired gunman and their enthusiasm over their few days in town dampened considerably. They gathered in small groups to talk quietly about what had happened to the man they had come to respect over the last few weeks.

  Pete had never had to make a decision by himself. He’d always had Clay and the two of them would talk things over and decide together. He knew it would be morning before they could get a doctor to come out from town and he also knew that if he took Mason to town he needed a light spring wagon with a tarp over the bed to hold out the cold. He crawled into the wagon where Doonie sat beside their brother.

  “Do you think he’ll die, Pete?”

  “I dunno.” He peered down into Mason’s still face. “We gotta get him to a doctor. Stay with him, Doonie. I’m gonna get us a wagon.”

  It was easier than Pete expected. The cattle buyer lived only a short distance from the stockyards and sent one of his own men to his place for a wagon. Pete offered to buy the wagon and the team with the two hundred dollars that he had taken from Runt Tallard’s body. The money, a snuffbox and a knife were all the man had on him. The buyer waved aside Pete’s offer and said one of his own men would go along to drive the team.

  It was late afternoon before the wagon arrived to take Mason to town. Throughout the long, agonizing afternoon Pete and Doonie had taken turns sitting beside their older brother. From time to time he stirred restlessly, but didn’t regain consciousness. With the help of the drovers they lifted Mason “featherbed and all” and laid him down gently on the tick cushion of straw in the wagon. A canvas was lashed into place to shield him from the wind.

  Minutes before they were ready to move out Clay came riding into camp. Steam rose from his horse, and its breath fogged the air.

  “What ’re ya tryin’ to do? Ride that horse to death?” Pete said, irritably.

  “Where’s Mason? I got to see him. That damn Sage has gone off with Nellie!”

  “Gone off with Nellie? You mean run off with her?”

  “Yore precious Victoria, that you think so much of, was the cause of it,” he sneered. “She went with ’em. They’ve gone to town! I tried to keep Nellie from going, but she wouldn’t listen. Where’s Mason?”

  “He’s in the wagon. He’s been shot. We’re takin’ him in to the doctor.”

  “Oh, my God!” Clay got off his horse. “Is it bad?”

  “He was shot in the side by a hired gunman this mornin’. I dunno if he’ll make it or not. We’re pullin’ out. Get someone to exchange horses with ya and c’mon.”

  Doonie sat in the wagon beside Mason and the twins rode behind. Five Double M drovers mounted their horses and fell into line. To a man they nodded when Pete turned with an inquiring look. The Mahaffey brothers were not alone on the trail to town.

  CHAPTER

  * 17 *

  Sage pulled the buckboard to a halt in the courtyard behind the hotel. The place was littered with rigs and coaches and carriages all standing about like abandoned toys. A stable boy led a team of striking chestnuts from the watering trough and backed them up to a fancy buckboard. Two Chinese wearing queues talked with a single-feathered, double-braided Sioux. Here, out of the wind, the air was still cold and heavy with the stench of manure.

  Sage turned the horses over to a gray-haired groom and watched them for a moment to see that they were properly cared for before helping Victoria and Nellie from the buckboard. He escorted them into the hotel through the courtyard door.

  The clerk looked up from the walnut desk. “Yes, sir? Why, hello, Miss McKenna.”

  “Hello, Mr. Kenfield. We’d like two rooms, please.”

  Sage was already turning the book to Victoria and she wrote hers and Nellie’s names and handed the pen to him. He wrote his name beneath theirs in a large, bold script.

  The clerk coughed. “You, er, want these rooms connecting?”

  “Yes,” Sage said sharply. “Two rooms, three doors, three keys.”

  “Well,” the clerk drawled thoughtfully and tried to wipe the puzzled expression from his face with a slow movement of his hand. Then he slid two of the keys on the counter in front of Victoria and the other one in the general direction of Sage. The color in his sallow face deepened considerably. He marked the room numbers beside the names and thumped the bell on the desk.

  Sage picked up the keys. “We don’t need nobody to show us to the rooms. Where are they?”

  “Up the stairs and left at the end of the hall.”

  Sage led the way up the stairs carrying Victoria’s canvas bag and Nellie’s small satchel.

  “I’ve never been in a hotel before,” Nellie whispered.

  Victoria, her mind on the meeting with her brother, just patted her arm reassuringly.

  Sage unlocked the door and walked into the room ahead of the women. He looked around and then out the window that faced the courtyard. He tried the connecting door and found it locked. Puzzled and slightly irritated, Victoria waited for him to leave, but he closed the hall door and leaned against it.

  “Ruby told me why you’re here.”

  It took a while for his words to sink in, but when they did Victoria lashed out bitterly.

  “She had absolutely no right to interfere in my business!”

  “She was worried for you.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

  “Yes, ma’am. But in this case there’s somethin’ goin’ on that’s got a smell to it.”

  “How can you be so sure? You don’t know anything about it,” Victoria snapped.

  “I know men, ma’am. I’d bet my life that Mason Mahaffey’s not crooked.”

  Nellie had stood by quietly until now, but at the mention of her brother’s name she went to Sage and took hold of his arm.

  “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

  Sage looked at Victoria, but she was looking at the blank wall, her face set. “It’s up to you, ma’am,” he said.

  Victoria brought her eyes to Nellie’s concerned face. Gentle, sweet Nellie, she thought. It will be almost as hard for her to hear that her brother tried to swindle me out of my ranch as it was for me to hear it. But it’s better for her to know. At least she has Sage to comfort her.

  “She might as well know,” Victoria said wearily. “Soon it will be common knowledge. Sit down.”

  Sage straddled a chair and Victoria and Nellie perched on the bed.

  When Victoria had finished her story Sage said, “There’s things that don’t add up, ma’am. If’n Mason was a crooked land grabber he’d not come ridin’ onto the Double M with no more ’n a couple of boys to back his hand. And no man, no matter how low, would a brought his sisters in to face the music. It’s somebody else what’s pulled the shenanigan. And I ain’t a likin’ for you to be roamin’ round till we know what’s behind it all.”

  “You really think someone is set on killing me?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I do. I was thinkin’ on it all the way to town. If you’ll pardon me for sayin’ so, ma’am, it appears to me that brother of yores is up to no good.”

  Victoria was shocked to hear Sage’s words. “My own blood kin? No, I can’t believe it. He just couldn’t do that to Papa. No! What would he gain?”

  Softly Sage said, “Suppose he did sell the Doubl
e M to Mason with some gussied-up papers. Maybe he’s a tryin’ to git it back.”

  “But why? He doesn’t like America. He’d never live here.” Victoria felt numb all over. She shook her head back and forth. “No,” she said in a low voice, more to herself than to Nellie and Sage. “My own brother wouldn’t do something like this to me. No.”

  “Well, we got to find out one way or t’other.” Sage got to his feet. “I’ll nose around and come back in a while. We’ll go to supper then. Don’t open the door to no one but me. I ’spect Mason’ll be in town sometime tonight.”

  “He’ll be at the stockyard for two or three days. The buyer won’t take his word for the number of steers he brought in.” Victoria felt panic grip her.

  “He’ll be here.” Sage smiled and reached out a hand to stroke Nellie’s dark hair. “Clay hightailed it right out to tell him I’ve run off with Nellie.”

  “So that’s the reason you brought me along?” Nellie said saucily.

  “One of them. The other bein’ I figured Miss Victoria needed you with her.”

  “That’s all?”

  Sage’s face showed an immeasurable tenderness. “No, that’s not all, my purty girl. I wanted you to come in case I get a chance to talk to Mason. I’m goin’ to ask him if I can wed the purtiest, sweetest girl in Wyoming Territory.”

  Victoria felt like an intruder. She wanted to move away, but there was nowhere to go. The happiness on Nellie’s face was lovely to see. Her eyes, riveted to Sage’s face, were full of adoration.

  “While we’re here?” she asked breathlessly.

  “The sooner the better for me.”

  “Oh, Sage, me, too!” She wrapped her arms about his waist and Victoria moved over to look out the window.

  “First we’ve got to get this other matter cleared up.” Gently he loosened her arms and stepped back. “If’n yore brother’s English, ma’am, he should stand out in a place like this. I’ll nose ’round ’n’ see what I can find out. That coyote at the desk ain’t goin’ to tell us nothin’.”

  Nellie went to the door with him and Victoria heard whispered words pass between them before Sage went out the door and Nellie locked it.

  The talk with Sage had left Victoria with a thousand conflicting emotions. Had Mason honestly thought he had bought the property and been swindled by Robert? Had he contrived to marry her in case his claim was not legal? Why was Robert, after ignoring her for so long, suddenly worried about her and the Double M? It didn’t make any sense.

  She continued to look down into the courtyard, not seeing much. She had been outraged when Clay suggested that Mason was using her, and yet the burning memory of his kisses sent delicious tremors through her. What was wrong with her? Why wasn’t she more concerned with losing her home—and with Robert and Mason both here and no proper will from her father she surely would lose it now—than she was with her disillusionment with the man she had come to love?

  “Victoria.” Nellie came up beside her. “You were so happy that one day and then suddenly you changed. What happened? I know Mason loves you. The morning he left he couldn’t stop smiling and you were glowing.”

  Victoria sighed. “It was Clay. He was very angry because I told him to behave himself the night Sage came to dinner. He made me see that Mason was only pretending to…like me because I was keeping the outlaws off his back…and I was convenient.”

  “You believed that of Mason? If you did, you don’t love him after all,” Nellie said stubbornly.

  “Maybe not. Anyway it’s ridiculous to be hiding here when I could be talking to my lawyer and finding out what he’s learned about Papa’s will.” She put on her hat and pinned it securely with a long hatpin. “I let Sage frighten me. What in the world could happen to me on the street in broad daylight? Half the people in town know who I am.”

  “You’re going out?” Nellie gasped.

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Lock the door, and do as Sage said—don’t open it to anyone but him or me. You’ll be all right.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No. I’d rather you didn’t. Stay here and wait for Sage.” Victoria smiled at her friend. “And get that worried look off your face, Nellie. Tomorrow may be your wedding day.”

  “Don’t go, Victoria.”

  “I’ll be back before you know it. If Sage returns before I do, tell him I went to Mr. Schoeller’s office and that I’ll come straight back here.”

  * * *

  Victoria marched resolutely through the lobby, nodded to the desk clerk, and went out onto the boardwalk fronting the hotel. The few people who were on the street were hurrying to get in out of the cold, brisk wind that was sweeping down from the north. Victoria had to take her hand out of her warm coat pocket to hold on to her hat. She crossed the rutted street and went up the wooden stairs that clung to the brick wall of the bank.

  The shade was up. Victoria opened the door and stepped inside. Mr. Schoeller was seated at his desk under the pull-down lamp. He got to his feet.

  “Miss Victoria! Come in, come in. I was just going to put another log in the stove.” He suited action to words and then kicked the firebox door closed with his foot. “It shouldn’t take a minute for that to catch and it’ll warm up in here. I was going to ride out to the Double M with the news I’ve got for you, but cold weather doesn’t agree with my bad leg.”

  “News?” Victoria paused in the middle of the room and wished for a second that she hadn’t come. Did she want to know what he was going to tell her?

  “The news is good. I just got in from Denver. That telegraph is a wonderful invention. In a place like Denver you can get an answer to almost any question in a matter of days, sometimes in a matter of hours.”

  “Good news?” Victoria’s eyes searched his and her heart lurched crazily.

  “Sit down. I’ll tell you about it.”

  Victoria slipped out of her coat, trying not to show her nervousness, and sat in the chair he placed beside the desk. Her heart was pounding heavily as she watched him shuffle the papers on his desk.

  “First I want to ease your mind. Marcus made out a will several years ago while he was in Denver and filed it there. He left everything to you. That was before I was practicing in South Pass City, and your father never told me about it. Later, when he was so ill, he must have forgotten about it and made out the will he had Stonewall sign. It’s the only reason I can think of for him doing it. I do wish, Miss Victoria, he had told me about the will filed in Denver. But that’s neither here nor there. The important thing is the ranch is yours and Mahaffey has no claim to it.”

  A calmness came over Victoria. She stared into the lamp and heard the snap of the wood burning in the stove. Mason would go away now, the house would be hers—empty again. She could tell the Mahaffeys to get out and the law would be on her side. Imprisoned in her thoughts she scarcely heard the lawyer speak until he mentioned Mason’s name.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Schoeller. What did you say?”

  “I said, Mason Mahaffey is an innocent party in all of this. Your half brother swindled him out of his money quite a bit about Mahaffey while I was in Denver. He’s very well thought of. President Grant called him in personally to handle a highly confidential job for the British government. For that job he was paid a large sum of money, and it must have been that money he paid to Robert McKenna for the ranch. I wouldn’t want to be in McKenna’s shoes when Mahaffey finds out his papers and deed are forged.”