He frowned as the business of the telegram came to mind. It came to him from Fort Smith, Arkansas. What that was about, he couldn’t figure out. Why would the marshal service send him a telegram, addressed to Gaylord Pressley? The message didn’t make sense and it didn’t ask for a reply. Where’d they get the name, anyway? Unless, he thought, Elmo Black told them. That was the only way, he decided. At any rate, it had caused him to decide to move on out of Wichita and find another town to suit his purposes. Twenty thousand dollars was a lot bigger in El Dorado than it was in Wichita. He had made a smart move.
CHAPTER 12
It was early evening when Will stepped down from the saddle and tied Buster and the bay to the hitching rail in front of the Parker House. Although tired after covering over fifty miles from his last camp near the Kansas-Oklahoma border, he came straight to the hotel. Before going to the desk, he decided to take a look in the hotel dining room on the chance he might find Preacher eating an early supper. The dining room was almost half-full already, but there was no Preacher McCoy, so he went to the desk.
“Good evening,” the desk clerk greeted him. “Can I help you?” Although his greeting was polite, his raised eyebrow signaled his disapproval of the rifle in Will’s right hand.
“I hope so,” Will answered. “I’m supposed to meet Gaylord Pressley here in Wichita. He said he was stayin’ at the Parker House.”
“Mr. Pressley was here, but he checked out last week.” The clerk seemed relieved to tell him so, thinking that possibly the hotel might have missed some trouble. He remembered Will, he recalled that he had come in before, looking for another man. He didn’t recall that man’s name now, but it wasn’t Mr. Pressley. He couldn’t imagine that a man like Gaylord Pressley could have any legitimate business with a trail-hardened drifter like this individual appeared to be. He was pleased to think that Mr. Pressley had been fortunate to have avoided him.
Damn! Will thought. He had missed him. Disappointed, but at least he knew there was a man walking around who called himself Gaylord Pressley. And he felt it would be an unlikely coincidence that it was anyone other than Preacher McCoy. “Did he say where he was goin’ when he checked out?”
“No, he didn’t say,” the clerk answered curtly. “He just said he enjoyed his stay at the Parker House.” He couldn’t resist adding, “He didn’t say he had an appointment to meet someone here.”
“He wouldn’t,” Will replied. “Well, thanks for your help.” He turned and walked out the door, convinced that the clerk had been honest with him in spite of his cold attitude. Another thought struck him that had not occurred to him before, but thinking of it now, he realized he should have thought about it at the time. When he was in Wichita before, he had checked the stable to see if Preacher’s dark black horse had been stabled there. Walter Hodge had no recollection of the horse Will had described. It occurred to him now that the hotel had a small stable of its own for their carriage and horses and he had not thought to look there for Preacher’s blue roan. Preacher didn’t tell the desk clerk where he was heading, but he might have told someone in the stable. Taking Buster’s reins, he led his horses around behind the hotel to a small barn and stable about twenty yards from the main building.
He dropped Buster’s reins in front of the barn and walked inside. Seeing no one there, he started to continue on to the stables when he heard someone call out above him. “You lookin’ for me?” Then a young man appeared at the top of the ladder to the hayloft.
“I reckon so,” Will replied. “Maybe you can help me out a little.” He waited while the young man climbed down. “I’m lookin’ for a man I’m supposed to do some work for. I was supposed to meet him here at the hotel, but I got hung up and didn’t get here till too late. I was hopin’ maybe you had talked to him before he left.”
“Most likely the fellow you’re lookin’ for kept his horse down at Hodge’s stable. The hotel charges a lot more than Hodge. Don’t nobody but a few rich folks keep their horses here.”
“This fellow could afford it and mighta thought it was worth it to have his horse real handy. He was a big fellow, most likely had two horses and you mighta remembered the one he rode, a big black horse.”
The young man smiled at once. “You must be talkin’ about Mr. Pressley. He had his horses in here, gave me a couple of dollars to make sure they got some oats.”
“That’s the man I’m lookin’ for,” Will said. “Gaylord Pressley, did he say where he was headin’ when he left here?” The young man shrugged and shook his head. “Maybe you saw which direction he took outta town.” Once again, a shrug and a head shake was all he received in reply. “Well, ’preciate it.”
Back on the street, he pondered his next step, while reprimanding himself for not having thought about checking the hotel stable when he was there two weeks before. It would have saved him a hell of a lot of time and travel back and forth to Fort Smith if he had known that Preacher’s horse was there. Surely he couldn’t have remained holed up much longer before Will would have found some trace of the man. There ain’t nothing I can do about that now, he thought, just have to start over. He considered Delano across the river, but decided Preacher wasn’t likely to go there. From what he had learned recently, Preacher had no interest in falling back into the outlaw crowd that hung out in Delano. He had money and he wanted to be part of the high-class crowd that made up the upper crust of the town. Will remembered Elmo’s comments about Preacher’s ambitions, so he decided Delano was a waste of time. But where to look? To start, he decided to take his horses back to Walter Hodge’s stable. They were tired and hungry and he wasn’t going to ride anywhere that night. After they were taken care of, he planned to call on every store and shop in the little town on the chance Preacher might have talked to someone before he left.
One of the first places he decided to visit was Baine’s Store, a general merchandise establishment, thinking if Preacher was leaving for another town, he may have needed supplies. How much he bought might indicate whether he planned a short trip or a long one. He needed a new bandana, anyway. His had become almost ragged, so he decided he might as well get one here. Inside, a short, bald man, wearing a soiled apron, welcomed him from behind a long counter. “Howdy, stranger. What can we do for you today?”
“Well, I’m just havin’ a little walk around town,” Will said. “Never really took a good look at the town before. I was supposed to meet a fellow here, but I got here too late. Looks like you’ve got a nice little business here.”
“Yeah, I’m doing all right, so far,” Jim Baine replied. “Who’s the fellow you were supposed to meet?”
“Gaylord Pressley.”
“Mr. Pressley,” Baine responded. “He was in here a couple of days ago, but I think he’s left town.”
“He mighta mentioned where he was headed,” Will said hopefully.
“No, he didn’t,” Baine said. “He didn’t even say he was leaving town when he was in here, but I wondered why he was buying things he bought since he was staying in the hotel. And he didn’t buy much of that.”
Will guessed that meant he was planning a trip, but not a long one. His first thought had been Dodge City, but Dodge was a hundred and fifty miles west of Wichita. Preacher must have been thinking about somewhere closer. There weren’t very many towns of any size within a day’s ride of Wichita, so Baine’s information was of little help. “’Preciate your help,” Will said. “I need a new bandana, long as I’m here.”
“I’ve got a big selection of bandanas,” Baine said. “Come right over to this end of the counter and take your pick.” At that moment, another customer came in, so Will told Baine to go ahead and take care of him while he looked the bandanas over to decide which one he wanted.
“Howdy, Frank,” Baine greeted the customer. “You come to pick up that load of supplies?”
“No,” Frank replied. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll bring my wagon by in the mornin’ and load up then. Did you have everything on that list I l
eft you?”
“Sure did, and I checked it twice to make sure I didn’t miss anything. That was a sizable order, I appreciate it. Looks like you’re got a big job to do. If it’s a new business, I hope it ain’t another general merchandise store.”
His comment brought a chuckle from Frank. “Ain’t no need to worry, it ain’t even in this town. I gotta haul all my tools and stuff thirty miles from here to El Dorado. Feller that owns the Prairie Palace is wantin’ to fix the place up, damn near rebuild it, accordin’ to what he told me.”
“The Prairie Palace,” Baine repeated. “Ain’t that the name of that old whorehouse?”
“Sure is,” Frank said, chuckling again. “And if my ol’ lady knew it, she might not let me go over there to do the job.” They both enjoyed a good laugh at that and the customer looking through the box of bandanas was more than a little interested.
Will walked over to the end of the counter where they were talking. “Couldn’t help overhearin’ you talkin’ about the job you’ve got in El Dorado,” he said. “What’s the fellow’s name that owns that place?”
“The feller that used to own it was Luke Barton, but he just died and this other feller just bought it. He’s plannin’ on fixin’ it up real fancy, but he couldn’t find no real carpenters over there. So he came to see me about doin’ the job—told me not to advertise it, ’cause he wants a surprise openin’. He told me he’s lookin’ to pull some of the Parker House’s business over to him. I bet he didn’t tell the folks at the Parker House what he was up to while he was stayin’ there last week.”
“Gaylord Pressley,” Baine guessed aloud.
Gaylord Pressley, Will repeated silently, and couldn’t help wondering how the previous owner happened to die.
“That’s right,” Frank said. “That’s the gent, all right.”
“I’ll take this red one,” Will said, his mind racing now, in spite of the calm demeanor he displayed.
“What?” Baine responded, not understanding.
“Bandana,” Will said. “I’ll take the red one.”
Outside, after paying Baine for his new bandana, Will untied his old one and dropped it in a barrel filled with trash. There was an urge to start out for El Dorado immediately, but his horses had already been worked hard that day, and according to Frank, the town was thirty miles away. He could afford to be patient now, since Preacher was no longer on the run. He thought about what Elmo Black had told him about Preacher and he certainly knew him as well as he thought. Preacher was planning to build the fanciest house of prostitution in Kansas. Elmo also warned him that Preacher was a dangerous man to confront, so Will decided it best to heed that part of Elmo’s ramblings as well.
With nothing more to prepare for, he decided to treat himself to a good supper at the Parker House before retiring to the stable to sleep with his horses. He would check his weapons to make sure both rifle and handgun were in good operating condition tonight and plan to make an early start in the morning.
* * *
The more Dolly Plover listened to Gaylord Pressley talk about the plans he had for the Prairie Palace, the closer she came to changing her mind about the sudden turn of ownership of the place. Maybe, in the long run, she might be better off with Gaylord running things. For one thing, he obviously had the money to get things done, and he believed in spending it. He took her with him when he went back to Wichita a couple of days ago and gave her money to buy a couple of nice dresses while he talked to a carpenter about doing the work on the Palace. On the way back he told her that he was duly impressed by her and it was his plan for the two of them to run the business together. By the time they returned to El Dorado, she believed he meant every word he said and was convinced that it had been her lucky day when he arrived at the door. So convinced was she, that when he suggested it, she accompanied him to his room that night to keep him warm.
It had not occurred to Dolly that this tall, broad-shouldered stallion might have developed a passion for something other than building the Palace into something glorious. During the night they spent together, he talked of long-term plans that included her beside him every step of the way. She couldn’t help feeling that he might be thinking about marriage even though things had not gone that far at this point. She had questioned him about his decision to come to El Dorado, instead of Wichita, a town that was thriving, with so much more to offer than this little settlement. Reluctantly, he had confided in her that he left Wichita to escape a murderous outlaw who had stalked him for weeks, seeking to rob him. “I wouldn’t try to avoid him if he would stand up to me, face-to-face, but he’s a back-shooter and a coward. I figured he’d have a harder time sneaking up on me in a smaller place like El Dorado.” She was shocked to think he had suffered such a threat and her heart went out to him. Reading the compassion in her face, he assured her then, “Don’t worry your pretty head about it. If the time comes, I’ll be ready to settle his hash for him, once and all.”
Her life had changed the day he walked in the door and she had to smile when she remembered what he had said to her on that day. “I think I’m the man you’ve been waitin’ to see.” She shook her head in wonder. At my age, she thought, I never figured it could happen to me again.
One member of the Palace staff was not yet won over by the bigger-than-life persona presented by Gaylord Pressley. And when Rena happened to walk down the hallway in time to almost bump into Dolly coming out of Gaylord’s room, she became immediately concerned for her friend. If Dolly felt like giving her boss a ride just for the hell of it, that was her business. It had been a few years since Dolly had participated in boy-girl games, maybe she was on a lark to see what she’d been missing. On the other hand, if Dolly was really developing deep feelings for this stranger at their door, she might be setting herself up for a hell of a letdown. After all, she thought, Lola and Violet don’t know they’re going to be kicked out just as soon as Gaylord can replace them with younger women. As for herself, Rena was confident that she and Angel need not fear for their jobs, that is, if Angel fully accepted the fact that she was being kept as a maid and nothing beyond that. The poor girl was young enough, but the Good Lord had not smiled favorably upon her when it came to looks. Thank goodness I’m a hell of a good cook, she thought. Her mind came back to Dolly again. I may have to talk to that gal.
“I thought you were gonna run me over when you came outta that room a while ago,” Rena said to Dolly when she came into the kitchen to get her morning coffee.
“I had to pee,” Dolly explained with a giggle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you till it was almost too late.”
“I thought you were running because you went in the wrong room and you wanted to get outta there before he woke up and saw you,” Rena said.
Fully aware that Rena’s remark was pure sarcasm, Dolly snickered again. “If that’s what you thought, then we’ll go along with that.” She filled another cup with coffee. “But he wants a cup of coffee and said I’d best be quick about it.” She picked up the cup, gave Rena a wink, and hurried out the door.
Oh my, Rena thought, it looks like she’s heading for trouble all right. It was especially disturbing to her because Dolly was normally not inclined to believe everything she heard come out of a man’s mouth. She certainly was not that way with Luke, but Luke was no more than a harmless, no-account drunk. Rena had her doubts about this Gaylord Pressley person. Ambitious, that went without saying, but she had a feeling that he wouldn’t stop at anything to get what he wanted. In fact, her first thought when Angel found Luke dead was to question whether Gaylord might have had something to do with it. She discarded the notion only after Angel said she heard them talking when Gaylord left Luke’s room and went to bed. She still had a slight feeling of distrust for the man, however. She would just have to reserve her judgment until she knew him better and hope he proved her wrong. She needed the job.
In a short time, Dolly returned to the kitchen while Gaylord went to the outhouse. She was carrying the two empty coffee
cups. Angel had appeared in the kitchen by then and was busy helping Rena prepare breakfast. “Lola said she ain’t feelin’ too good this mornin’,” Angel said to Dolly, “said she’d fix herself somethin’ later on when she’s feelin’ better. I think it might be her time of the month.”
“Well, don’t say nothing about it to Gaylord,” Rena quickly responded, thinking Lola might be thrown out right away if he heard about it.
“Don’t say nothin’ to Gaylord about what?” Preacher asked, having overheard her remark just before entering the kitchen.
Having to think fast, Rena hesitated only a few seconds before answering. “I was planning to cook you a fresh steak for your breakfast this morning, but the fellow that brings us most of our beef didn’t get here yesterday. Now I reckon you’ll have to settle for bacon.”
“Steak would be more to my likin’,” Preacher said. “But ain’t nothin’ wrong with bacon if there’s potatoes and biscuits to go with it.”
“There’s plenty of that,” Rena assured him.
“Who’s the feller you get the beef from?” Gaylord asked.
“Man by the name of Oscar Moon,” Dolly answered for Rena. “He showed up here one day leadin’ a stray cow he said he’d found out on the prairie and wanted to know if we’d like to buy it. The price was right, so we bought it. Turns out Oscar’s one of the luckiest men you’ll ever meet. He seems to find stray cows on a regular basis.”
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