“Cal, there’s a dance tomorrow night,” Katrina said with a seductive smile.
“A dance?” Smoke replied to Sally’s announcement.
“Yes, it’s to raise money for the school. Summer is almost over and school is about to start again. Don’t you think that’s a good cause?”
“Well, yes, sure I do. But we don’t have to go to a dance. We can just donate some money.”
“Smoke Jensen!” Sally said. “Are you saying you don’t want to dance with me?”
“You know I’m teasing. Or at least, I hope you know. Of course I want to dance with you.”
“All right then, I don’t want to hear any more complaints about it. Tom has said he will make his country wagon available, and we’ll ride in with Cal and Katrina.”
“Cal and Katrina?”
Sally chuckled. “You don’t pay attention to anything, do you?”
“I guess not.”
“You want to wear my bolo tie, Cal? It’s got a silver and turquoise slide,” Pearlie asked.
“You don’t mind my wearin’ it?”
“No. It’ll help you make an impression on Katrina. You know what I think you should name your first kid, if it’s a boy?”
“Whoa, first kid? Aren’t you gettin’ a little ahead of the game?”
“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared. You can call it Smoke.”
“I was thinkin’ about callin’ it Pearlie.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. If I can wear your silver belt buckle too.”
Pearlie laughed. “Always playing the angles, aren’t you? Well, I was goin’ to let you wear it anyway.”
“If you’re really that anxious to meet Smoke Jensen,” one of the cowboys in the Lone Star Saloon said to Isback, “you should go to the dance tomorrow night.”
“What dance?” Isback asked.
“You ain’t seen none of the signs, tellin’ about it?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“There’s one on the wall over there, just by the piano. Go take a look at it. Ever’body from ten miles around town will more ’n likely be comin’ to the dance, ’n’ that includes Smoke Jensen.”
Ida Rose was standing at the table nearest the piano, and when she looked up and saw Isback coming, she moved away, quickly. Bridget was standing at the bar when Ida Rose approached.
“Ida Rose, I have noticed that every time Mr. Isback comes near you, you get out of his way. Has he done anything to you? Has he hurt you in any way?” she asked.
“What?” Ida Rose gasped. “No! Why do you ask? I haven’t said anything about it.”
“You haven’t said anything about what?”
“About nothin’,” Ida Rose said, the tone in her voice reflecting her fear. “Please, Bridget, don’t ask me any more questions.”
“He has done something, hasn’t he?”
“Bridget, please, don’t talk about it,” Ida Rose said, a sense of desperation in her voice.
“All right, if you don’t talk about it, we won’t. But just know that if you ever do need to talk about it . . . whatever it is, you can talk to me,” Bridget said, putting her hand, reassuringly, on Ida Rose’s arm.
“Thank you,” Ida Rose said, looking over at Isback.
As the cowboy had told him, there was a poster on the wall next to the piano, advertising the dance for the following night.
DANCE – SEPTEMBER 5th
for the
Benefit of the San Vicente School
Band from Brownsville to Play
Come One! Come All!
Isback smiled as he looked at the poster. The dance would be the perfect time for him to check out Mr. Smoke Jensen.
Turning away from the poster, he saw Ida Rose talking to Bridget, and both of them were looking in his direction. He smiled at them, and nodded his head. The smile offered no mirth, and the dip of his head contained no warmth.
He wondered what they were talking about. He was sure that Ida Rose had told Bridget about their little encounter of a few nights earlier. Before he left town, he would make certain that Ida Rose told nobody else. He would also take care of Bridget. It wouldn’t do for things like his particular way of dealing with women to be spread around. He could kill a man in a gunfight, and if he killed enough men, he would earn the respect and fear from other men. But those same men would react differently, if they knew how he treated women.
Isback returned to the table he had been sharing with two locals.
“Did you check out the poster?”
“I did,” Isback said.
“Will you be goin’ to the dance? ’Cause, like I said, I expect Smoke Jensen will be there.”
“What for, are you wantin’ to meet Jensen anyway?” the other cowboy asked.
“He and I share a particular skill,” Isback said. “I just want us to get together and compare those skills, to see which of us is the better.”
“Sort of a friendly get-together, you might say?” the first cowboy asked.
“Exactly,” Isback replied, again flashing a smile without mirth.
He glanced toward the bar and saw that Ida Rose and Bridget were still looking toward him. Yes, he would have to take care of them both.
The thought of it gave him pleasure.
Chapter Fifteen
Cal drove the country wagon, a four-passenger vehicle with leather-padded seats and a fringed top. He pulled up in front of the Big House where Smoke, Sally, and Katrina were waiting.
“My oh my, Cal, how handsome you look tonight,” Sally said. “Don’t you think so, Katrina?”
“Yes, ma’am, I sure do,” Katrina said.
The blush on Cal’s face was noticeable.
In a town that was no larger than San Vicente, all public events were big things and a dance was the biggest. All the local citizens, as well as the cowboys from the surrounding ranches, had made plans to attend. There wasn’t a building big enough to accommodate the number of people anticipated, so carpenters had built a wooden floor in the middle of Front Street. Musicians, as advertised, arrived from Brownsville, and as they warmed up that afternoon, they drew a crowd of youngsters to watch.
Smoke, Sally, Cal, and Katrina arrived in town, by design, before the dance was scheduled to begin. The four of them had dinner at the War Drum, Smoke’s treat.
“Do you ever miss teaching?” Katrina asked Sally.
“I haven’t stopped teaching,” Sally said.
“Oh?”
Sally chuckled. “I don’t teach school anymore, but when you are surrounded by men like Smoke, Pearlie, Cal, and all the other men who work at the ranch, you never quit teaching. At least, not as far as grammar is concerned.”
“What about Old Mo?” Cal asked. “You don’t ever teach him anything.”
“Believe me, Cal, Mr. Morris is educated far beyond anything I could teach him. The fact that his education wasn’t acquired in a schoolroom doesn’t diminish it in any way. In fact, he taught me a lot of things during our drive down here.”
“Mr. Morris is an interesting man,” Katrina said.
“He sure is,” Cal said. “And he’s a good man too. Wouldn’t you say so, Smoke?”
“Absolutely, I would say so,” Smoke replied. “He is like Preacher, one of the men who opened up the West for the rest of us. Maybe Mr. Morris didn’t study in school, but men like him will, one day, be studied in school.”
“Speaking of school, are you enjoying teaching, Katrina?” Sally asked.
“Oh, yes, very much. School reopens in another week, and I’m looking forward to it. I intend to teach until . . .” She paused in mid-sentence.
“Until what?” Smoke asked.
Sally kicked Smoke under the table. “Just until she doesn’t teach anymore,” Sally said.
Sally and Katrina smiled at each other as they shared the silent communication, “until I am married,” between them. Neither Cal nor Smoke had any idea what they were talking about, but Smoke had enough sense to know better than to
ask. At least, he wouldn’t ask now.
Lanterns were strung from overhead ropes and by nightfall men and women began moving from the outlying edges of town toward the bright bubble of golden light in the center of darkness. They were drawn to the light as moths are drawn to a flame, and they greeted one another happily. Many of the young men, most of them cowboys, teased one another about being all “gussied up.”
There were youngsters there as well, most of them too young to dance, but there was an area set aside for them, and a few of the more matronly ladies of the town had volunteered to keep an eye on the children as they played.
“Ladies and gents!” the caller said. “We’ll start this dance off with the grand march, so, choose up your partners!”
Smoke and Sally, Cal and Katrina stepped out onto the floor. Then the music started and the procession began as they marched, two by two and arm in arm, to the far end of the floor. Curving around, they came back to where they had started. Then, as the music continued, the marchers weaved back and forth until their numbers increased to four, this time including Smoke and Sally.
Between the sets of the spirited quadrilles, the band played some waltzes. This gave the more sedate attendees a chance to participate, and the more active dancers a chance to catch their breath.
There were many more men than women, so the women would be rationing their dances. Nevertheless, Cal was getting more than his share of dances with Katrina, and that was obviously with her approval. But about halfway through the dance, a cowboy from a neighboring ranch took issue with it.
“Tell, me, mister, how come it is that you’re gettin’ so many dances with that one, while the rest of us is left suckin’ hind tit? ’Cause I’m tellin’ you right now, I don’t intend to let you get away with it.”
There was anger in the cowboy’s remark, and even an implied challenge.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just ’cause I’m better-lookin’ than you are,” Cal replied. He made the comment with a smile, clearly indicating that he meant it as a joke. He was hoping that by introducing humor into the moment he could defuse the situation. But it didn’t work.
“Why you, low-assed, mealy-mouthed, tick-bit, mule-kicked, son of a bitch!” the cowboy shouted, and he swung wildly at Cal.
Cal leaned back just in time to miss the cowboy’s swing. The cowboy tried a straight punch the second time and Cal leaned to one side to let it slip by.
“Oh, Smoke!” Sally said when she became aware of what was going on. “Do something!”
“No need to do anything,” Smoke replied. “It looks to me like Cal has it fairly well in hand.”
The cowboy tried several other punches and swings, none of which landed because Cal, dancing now, was adroitly avoiding every one. By now all other activity had stopped as everyone turned to watch the “fight” though there was no fight. The cowboy was growing increasingly agitated as he continued to swing wildly, while Cal managed to avoid his punches.
The musicians, seeing what was happening, began to play an Irish jig, as Cal danced, not only with his body movements, but with his boots which, by now, were beating a staccato rhythm on the board floor.
With a broad smile, Katrina put her hands on her hips and stepped out to join them, staying just far enough away to avoid both the swinging cowboy and Cal’s gyrating dance.
The others began clapping their hands in rhythm and calling out to the three.
“Duke, I never knowed you could dance like that!” one of the cowboys shouted to the young man who continued his attack on Cal . . . but so far had been unable to make so much as one blow land. He was clearly getting more and more exhausted, and finally he stopped swinging and stood there, bent over, his hands on his knees, breathing hard.
“Duke, you want to dance with Katrina and me?” Cal said. “Put your hands on your hips like this, and join in.”
The invitation was issued with a broad smile and after a second or two of hesitation, Duke put his hands on his hips, then joined in, leaping and cavorting about as best he could. The scowl on his face left, to be replaced by a smile as broad as Cal’s. The three of them danced to the music and the rhythmic claps of the others until finally, the music ended.
There was a wide, appreciative applause from all the other dancers.
Cal extended his hand. “Duke, I’m Cal. I’m glad to meet you.”
With a sheepish grin on his own face, Duke took Cal’s hand. “It’s good to meet you as well. I’m sorry about all this foolishness.”
“Think nothing of it. And, if you want to, you can take my dance with Katrina.”
“No, I can’t,” Duke said.
“Why not?”
“’Cause I’m all tuckered out. I’m too tard to dance.”
The others laughed.
“That’s all right,” Katrina said. “When you get your wind, come see me. I’ll be glad to dance with you. Even if you aren’t as good-looking as Cal,” she added with a tease.
There were no other altercations during the dance and shortly before it was over Cal and Katrina went outside, then walked down to the bank of the Rio Grande. The dark water, with moon-glow highlights, was a study in black and silver.
“I am very proud of you for not fighting back,” Katrina said.
Cal chuckled. “Well, Duke and I wound up as friends. It’s always better to make a new friend, than to make a new enemy, don’t you think?”
“I absolutely think so.”
“Like us, for example,” Cal added. “We didn’t even know each other last month, and now we are friends.”
“Is that all we are?”
Cal didn’t answer right away. Instead he leaned down, picked up a rock, and tossed it into the river, causing concentric circles of moonlight silver to spread from the point where the rock entered the water.
“I’m sorry,” Katrina said, apologizing quickly. “I had no right to ask such a question.”
“You have every right to ask it,” Cal said. “But I don’t have any right to answer it.”
“What do you mean, you don’t have any right? Why would you say such a thing?”
“Katrina, you are the daughter of a very wealthy man, and I’m nothin’ but a cowboy. I may be a little better off than most of the cowboys you know, because my job is permanent and I work for a good man who pays me well. I also own my own horse and tack, and I’ve got a little money put away. But when you get right down to it, I’m still nothin’ but a cowboy.”
“Don’t limit yourself by what you do, Cal, define yourself by who you are. And you are a fine, decent man with the courage and intelligence to avoid a stupid fight, and turn your adversary into a friend. And you must know that I have begun to feel something for you.”
“It’s only been a little over two weeks, Katrina. If there is going to be any more of this than friendship, I want us to be very sure.”
“How can I be more sure than I am now?”
“Smoke will be wantin’ to go back home when all the horses are broken.”
“Will you be going as well?”
“Katrina, I . . .” Cal started, but he was unable to finish whatever he was going to say because Katrina moved to him and kissed him on the lips.
“Will you be going as well?” Katrina repeated, when, finally, she broke off the kiss.
“Do you want me to stay?”
“Yes, but only if you want to stay.”
“Katrina, I want to stay here with you more than I have ever wanted anything in my life. But, I want you to be certain that this is also what you want.”
“Yes, I very much want you to stay.”
“Then, just so that we know this is real, let’s do it like this. I’ll go back with Smoke and the others. In three months, if you still feel this way, you send me a letter and I’ll come back. I would need to go back up there anyway, to sort of get things settled. I couldn’t just leave Smoke without so much as a fare-thee-well.”
“I’ll still feel this way in three months,” Katrina said.
Cal smiled. “I’m very glad to hear that, because I will too.”
They kissed again, then they walked back toward the bubble of light that marked the location of the dance floor.
“There you are,” Pearlie said when they returned. “Are you going to let me dance with your girl or not?”
“Yes, so long as you realize that she is my girl,” Cal said, squeezing Katrina’s hand, intimately, before he let her go.
Rick Isback was one of the men at the dance. He stood out from the others, distinguishable by the clothes he was wearing: a forest green frock coat, and mustard-colored trousers. He was ever the gentleman: a smooth talker and a smooth dancer. He picked out Smoke early in the dance, and observed him from across the floor, always doing so in a way that didn’t call Smoke’s attention to him.
Isback made a study of the man, watching the way he moved and how he reacted to input from the people around him. He was particularly interested in seeing how Smoke handled the fight that broke out. He knew that one of the young men involved in the fight had arrived with Smoke, and he assumed that they were good friends
He watched to see if Smoke’s wife, whose name he had learned was Sally, would dance with anyone else. When he saw that she had danced with someone other than Smoke, he approached the two of them.
“With your permission, sir,” he said, recognizing Smoke with a slight nod of his head. Then he turned to Sally. “I wonder if I might have the pleasure of this dance?”
“I would be pleased,” Sally said, smiling at him.
The dance was a waltz, but Isback was silent for the entire dance. Not until he returned her to her husband did he speak.
“Thank you very much, madam,” he said. “Sir,” he added toward Smoke, again with a nod of his head, before he turned to walk away.
“What a strange man,” Sally said after her dance partner walked away.
“Strange in what way. Sally, he didn’t . . .”
Terror of the Mountain Man Page 12