Four new hotels had opened since they been there only a few months earlier. When Garret asked about the available hotel rooms in town, Mr. Johnson told him which one he considered the best.
“We don’t have to stay in the best,” Beth claimed as they walked down the sidewalk.
“You deserve the best all the time. Although I can’t give it to you all the time, I can give it to you once in a while.”
Beth squeezed his hand. “You are very good to me, but I’m content with what I have.”
“Hmm…” Garret mused. “I reckon if you’re so content, you don’t want a fancy new dress and hat?”
She looked up to meet his eyes. “Can we afford it?”
“We can.”
She smiled. “What I really need is a new pair of shoes. I will be even more content with a new hat and a new dress.”
Garret laughed. “Let’s get registered at a hotel. It’s not the one we stayed in last time, and I hope there won’t be any bullets flying through the walls. Then I’m buying you a store bought dress, a hat, and a brand new pair of shoes. Only the best for my girl!”
Garret bought Beth her new pair of shoes, ruefully shaking his head when he saw the soles were nearly worn off the pair she had been wearing, and she had been stuffing cardboard inside to cover the holes. He scolded her for not telling him sooner she needed them and promised they would get her old shoes resoled. Garret was displeased with the selection of premade dresses offered at the Johnson’s Emporium, so he escorted Beth to a new store down the street where they found a dress both of them liked. He left his wife there trying to decide on a new hat. Garret said he needed to talk to the cattlemen down by the stockyards to find out how the beef market was doing.
Beth had a delightful time choosing a new dress before picking one in a blue-and-pink rose pattern. She also found a lovely hat adorned with blue and pink silk roses. A new dress and a new hat were an extravagance, but Garret had insisted. She wanted to show off her new outfit to him, except she knew a woman would not be welcomed at the stockyard. Instead, she took her purchases to the hotel and afterward went to talk to Mrs. Johnson feeling slightly guilty about buying merchandise from another store.
Mrs. Johnson filled her in on all the local news. Denver had always been a bustling town fluctuating with the tides of gold strikes, military forts, trading, and immigration from the east. Now with the talk of building the railroad spur to Cheyenne, even more businesses were coming into town. A few months earlier, there had been a mini-war between the newer business owners and the town council. The new businessmen wanted to remove the law requiring brick buildings. A special election had been called, but the newcomers lost, especially since three of the town council members had been recalled after it was discovered they had taken bribes to agree with the newcomers.
In the past, both fire and flood had taken their toll on Denver, and the pioneers who had built and rebuilt the town had taken a stand. These citizens wanted to build a real community, one that would grow and last, not a city built by Johnny-come-lately speculators who would take their profits and run at the first sign of adversity.
Whenever Mrs. Johnson got busy with a customer, Beth roamed around the store. She found some of the bric-a-brac Garret had sold to Mr. Tolliver for sale at much higher prices than her husband had sold it.
“Oh, Mrs. Wakefield,” Mrs. Johnson exclaimed suddenly. “I almost forgot. I’ve been saving something for you!” The woman disappeared through a doorway behind the counter.
At that moment, a man crossed the store glowering at Beth. “You’re her!” he shouted.
“Excuse me,” Beth said trying to move away from him. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t know you.”
“You’re the reason my brother’s dead!” the man bellowed. “You led him on and because of you, he was murdered!”
“I’m sure I don’t know to what you are referring!”
“Captain Claude Howell was my brother, and you’re responsible for his death.”
“Captain Howell was a liar and a cheat, sir. He put the lives of every person on our wagon train in peril! If someone is responsible for killing people, it was your brother! He failed to provide medical care for the people on our train as promised in our contracts. If anyone should be called a murderer, it is he!”
“You bitch!”
“Now, hold on there,” Mr. Johnson shouted from behind the counter.
“I take exception to your words, Mr. Howell,” Beth snapped. “I am in no way responsible for your brother's demise. His death was a direct result of his lewd behavior toward me!”
Beth’s face was flushed with embarrassment as she tried to step away from the man, but he dogged her steps.
“You’re a bitch and a whore!”
Beth slapped the man across the face. He drew a fist and punched her.
When Beth opened her eyes, Garret was bending over her, his face one of a circle of spinning faces.
“Oh!” she moaned. “My jaw hurts!”
“He clipped you pretty hard,” Mr. Johnson exclaimed.
“Where is that horrible man?”
“He took off before I could get here,” Garret said. “Come on, I’m taking you to the doctor’s office and then I’m hunting down Lloyd Howell.”
Garret took Beth to the doctor who said nothing was broken, although she would be bruised for a while. He took her to their hotel room and hustled her into bed with a wet towel on her face.
She pleaded with him not to go after Howell. The sheriff had already proven himself to be a dishonest man. It was possible he would take Howell’s side and Garret would be the one who got into trouble. She wanted to go home and forget the entire incident.
Garret was unsatisfied, but he agreed not to physically go after the man. He went to the sheriff and filed a complaint. Beth was right. Garret could tell from the start, Sheriff Wilson would do nothing. He called the incident a minor disagreement.
Furious, Garret headed to the mayor. He barged into the office of William Clapton raising cane.
“Calm down, Mr. Wakefield,” Mayor Clapton pleaded. “I already know Sheriff Wilson is not the best man for the job and yet he was the only one who would hire on for it. Denver needs law enforcement, and he does keep the gunslingers in check!”
“If he’s the best you can do, Denver will never lose its reputation as a Hellhole,” Garret raged.
“If you know someone to recommend, I will take it into consideration,” the mayor offered. “I have a lot at stake in this town, too!”
“Contact Captain James Sumners at Fort Laramie. He’s familiar with the territory and he told me himself, he’s not re-upping his enlistment. He wants to get married and dislikes the idea of dragging a family from post to post. He’s an honest man who can handle a position of power without becoming corrupt!”
The mayor was writing down the information. “I’ll write to him, Mr. Wakefield. Now, I will go tell Sheriff Wilson I want Lloyd Howell tossed behind bars for disturbing the peace!” He backed away from the still angry face of the man leaning over his desk. “I’ll also ask him to tack on a few days in jail for assaulting a woman,” he added quickly.
“I had better not hear anything different,” Garret warned. “If my wife can’t be safe on the streets of Denver, I’ll start carrying a sidepiece myself to protect her!”
Garret returned to the hotel where Beth still held the cold cloth to her jaw, which was already turning a dark blue. “I reckon you’re not in the mood to celebrate.”
“I bit my lip,” Beth slurred around a swollen tongue. “I’ll have to eat soft foods for a day or so.”
“Aw, honey, I’m so sorry. I wanted this trip to be a real treat for you,” Garret said tilting her chin a little bit and grimacing.
“It has been,” Beth said around her swollen tongue. “This room is a lot better than the last one.”
He smiled. “I’ll see about getting you something soft to eat for dinner. You rest.”
Beth thought her even
ing with her husband was wonderful and romantic. They ate their dinner by candlelight and made love several times. He was gentle with her when she wanted him to be gentle, and forceful and commanding when he felt it was necessary. She liked it that way, too.
“I have to get our supplies this morning,” Garret said as he got up the next morning. “I want you to rest while I’m gone. The bruise on your face is becoming real colorful. People are liable to think I beat my wife.”
“You have spanked me,” Beth reminded him.
“Spanking is different from hitting with a fist,” Garret said firmly. “A whole lot different. I’ve warmed your bottom a time or two because you were doing something you’d already been warned not to do. Spankings don’t leave bruises!
“My provision orders should already be filled and waiting, so I should only be an hour or so. You stay put, rest, and take advantage of the indoor facilities, but have our things packed and ready to go when I return. We can get a fairly early start for home. I’ll tell the clerk to send breakfast up for you.”
Rest. Beth smiled at his words and got out of bed. She did take advantage of the indoor plumbing, soaking in a tub while wondering if they would ever have one like it at their home. It was something most people never thought about except when they were traveling. Her home on the farm had not had indoor plumbing, and her family had been considered well off.
After packing their few possessions and purchases from the Johnson’s Emporium, Beth sat on the edge of the bed to wait for Garret. Then she remembered Mrs. Johnson had said she had something for her. Beth had been assaulted before she had a chance to find out what her friend had for her.
She scribbled a note for Garret, grabbed her reticule, and left the hotel. She knew her husband would want no delays once he picked up their supplies and was ready to start the trip home. She hurried down the sidewalks and entered the store out of breath. “Mrs. Johnson, you said you had something for me!”
“Oh my goodness, look at what that horrible man did to you,” Mrs. Johnson exclaimed.
“It looks worse than it feels,” Beth assured the woman. “I have to hurry. Garret wants to leave this morning.”
“I know, he was already here,” Mrs. Johnson said. She disappeared behind the counter and returned holding a fold of sky blue cloth. “We had a shipment of fabric come in right after your last visit. This was very popular and selling so fast I knew it would be gone before you made another trip to town. I cut a dress length and saved it for you. I knew this color would be perfect with your blue eyes.”
“It is beautiful,” Beth said stroking the fabric and sighing. “I shouldn’t. My husband bought me a brand new dress and hat only yesterday. He has already been so generous.”
Mrs. Johnson looked crestfallen. Her surprise was not being received with joy.
“It would look wonderful with my new hat,” Beth said impulsively, and the storekeeper’s face beamed with a smile. “I’ll take it. Thank you so much for saving it for me.” She dug into her reticule and paid for the fabric along with thread to match out of what Garret called her pin money. “Thank you so much for your kindness.”
“Come visit soon!” Mrs. Johnson said as Beth hurried out the door. She skipped down the sidewalk to the hotel and saw their wagon was already parked outside. When she entered the lobby, Garret was waiting for her impatiently.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“Garret! Watch your language. Mrs. Johnson saved a dress length of fabric for me,” she explained quickly. “With the trouble yesterday, I forgot all about it.”
“Well, get in the wagon,” Garret ordered. “I’ve already put our things in it and paid the bill!”
Beth spun around and went outside with Garret hard on her heels. He helped her to the seat before climbing up himself. She could tell he was angry with her.
Garret didn’t say a word until they were out of town driving on the rough road west toward their place. He kept his silence until they were well past Denver’s sprawl and on the high prairie.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay put?” Garret growled.
“Yes, except if I hadn’t gone when I did, I would have delayed our departure,” Beth explained. “Mrs. Johnson was doing something nice for me.”
“I didn’t want you on the streets, alone,” Garret growled. “Denver has proven to be a dangerous place.”
“Yes, well, the wagon master’s brother is certainly as unpleasant and uncouth as Captain Howell,” Beth agreed.
“Exactly. When I checked this morning he wasn’t in jail, which was why I didn’t want you on the streets by yourself,” Garret repeated.
Beth turned and faced him. “You didn’t tell me he wasn’t in jail.”
“I told you to stay put!”
“I’m not a dog! Stay is a command a person gives a dog! If you didn’t want me leaving the hotel, you should have asked me to stay there.”
“I did!” Garret growled.
“Not so I understood why!”
“What part of ‘Stay Put’ didn’t you understand?”
“Don’t be rude, Garret,” Beth said impatiently. “I was trying to save you time by going to the emporium before you returned from your errands. I don’t mind you being protective of me, but it’s rather old-fashioned of you to expect to bark out commands without explanation and expect me to follow them without knowing why.”
Garret reined the horses to stop in the middle of the road. “In case you haven’t noticed, Beth, I am an old-fashioned man,” he informed her. With one quick movement, she was across his lap, and he was swatting her bottom with several hard burning smacks.
“Oh!” Beth squealed. “You are being unfair!”
“No, I’m not,” replied Garret firmly, lowering his hand on her backside several more times. “You will not ignore me when I tell you to do something for your own safety.” His large hand covered Beth’s entire bottom, and she screamed with each swat. He set her on the hard wooden seat, and she squealed again.
“I will be obeyed! Do you understand?” Garret demanded.
“Yes,” Beth sniffed, angrily wiping at her tears. Garret had taken a perfectly lovely trip and twisted it into a horrible memory! She turned her head and tried to ignore the burning sting he had left on her behind with his hard hand.
This was her husband. He was overprotective, over bossy and overbearing. It was hard to gauge when his overprotectiveness would rise up, and she would pay the penalty for doing something he thought was dangerous or misguided.
“Do you intend on sulking for the rest of the trip?” Garret asked when the horses were plodding along again.
“No! Yes! Maybe!” Beth sputtered. “That was unfair!”
“No, it wasn’t,” denied Garret. “If you had a mirror to see your bruised face, you would know why I’m mad. Denver might have a man walking around with a badge, but he is a long way from being a lawman. What if Howell had seen and attacked you again?”
Beth glared at him and shook her head. “He didn’t, and he wouldn’t have dared.”
“How do you know for sure? Do you know how a crazy man thinks?”
“No, but I’m dealing with one right now!”
“I’m not crazy or dangerous,” Garret drawled. “I was looking out for you. If Howell had come after you again, I would have had to kill him!”
“All right,” Beth exclaimed. “Next time, tell me exactly what you expect and why. Don’t leave me guessing. I’m your wife, Garret, not your servant!”
Garret gazed at Beth long and thoughtfully before he hitched the reins to get the horses plodding along again. For a long while, if he spoke to her, she only answered in one-syllable responses. She was angry with him, and he gave thought to her words. He glanced at her occasionally and saw her gently rubbing her bruised jaw. When Beth pulled down the brim of her bonnet to shield her eyes from the sun, Garret steered the wagon off the road toward a small grove of trees and reined the horses to a stop.
“Why are we stopping here?”<
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Garret jumped down and went to the water barrel at the back of the wagon and brought her a cup of cool water. He opened a small packet of pills labeled acetylsalicylic acid and handed her two tablets.
“The doctor gave me these and said they would help if you were feeling bad or had a headache. We have time, and I want you to lie down for a few minutes to let the medicine do its job. It should be cooler by the creek.” Garret led Beth to the stream where she laid down on a blanket he spread on the bank. He joined her, lifting her head onto his lap. It did feel good not to be jostled around, and Beth closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Garret sat gazing out over the stream and down at the beautiful face of his wife marred once again by bruises. He made a vow to himself to protect her better. He gently removed her hat and hairpins and let down her glorious mane of chestnut-colored tresses. He ran his fingers through her hair, loving the way it flowed over his lap much as it did over their pillows at night.
Beth woke up slowly and opened her eyes to her husband looking at her as if she were a prize flower. “You shouldn’t have let me fall asleep!”
“You needed it,” Garret answered, leaning closer and kissing her as she sat up. “I want you to know I love you, Beth. Even if I get foul-tempered sometimes, don’t ever think I don’t love you.”
“I won’t. You were beginning to scare me, though.”
“You don’t ever need to be afraid of me. The worst I would ever do is spank you,” Garret declared. “I’ve been sitting here thinking. What we have is so good, honey. We don’t fight very much. Most of the time, we get along great. In fact, I believe we get along better than most married people. I was wrong. You are my wife, not someone I should order around. I was sitting here remembering how I felt when I was a kid taking the lowest jobs and working my way up. You can’t do those kinds of jobs without someone yelling and screaming at you all the time.
“When I enlisted in the Army, no one could have been more surprised than me when they promoted me to an officer. One day I was riding the plains dealing with Indians and wagon masters, the next day I was in charge of a whole unit of men. I reckon I took to being in charge like a duck to water.”
A Path Worth Taking Page 24