Pulling on his boots to complete his dress, Wes glanced up to give Anabelita an arch look, ‘Ah … but I don’t suppose I could expect a similar reward every time I did something like that.’
His remark failed to provoke a response in a similar vein. Her eyes widened in disbelief and she demanded angrily, ‘Is that why you think I let you make love to me? As a reward? Do you honestly believe I have so little regard for my body – and my self-esteem – that I would offer it to anyone who does something for me? Is that what you think?’
Aware that his unthinking and tasteless joke had not been well-received, Wes said hurriedly, ‘Of course not, it was meant to be a joke, but it wasn’t in very good taste. I’m sorry … I truly am.’
She was only partially mollified but just then the Missouri Belle’s whistle emitted another discordant and ear-splitting shriek and the riverboat slowed noticeably.
Hurriedly jumping to his feet, Wes said, ‘I really must go now, Anabelita. As soon as we get underway again I’d like to have a chat with you … about us. You and me.’
‘You mean … you want to give me another opportunity to show how grateful I am to you.’
Looking pained, Wes replied, ‘It meant a lot more than that to me, Anabelita – and so do you, I think you know that. But I really must go now.’
He could hear members of the riverboat’s crew shouting and indistinct distant replies. Hurriedly crossing the cabin floor to where she was sitting up in the bunk, he kissed her.
The kiss lingered for longer than he had intended, but a renewed outbreak of shouting from outside caused him to straighten up.
Looking down at her he said, ‘I’m a very lucky man, Anabelita. I would like to stay that way.’
Hurrying to the cabin door, he opened it – and was gone.
Behind him, Anabelita sank back on the pillow. When she thought of what Wes had said, and what had happened between them she smiled … and it was a contented smile.
CHAPTER 10
Once outside Anabelita’s cabin, Wes discovered that the sounds he had thought to be the Missouri Belle’s berthing signals were, in fact, a precursor to the altercation now taking place between the riverboat’s crew and the occupants of a keelboat.
A large and unwieldy craft, the keelboat was manned by men who Wes thought were even rougher-looking than Bodmin Moor tin-miners. Their vessel was being manoeuvred into a berth adjacent to that used by the riverboats and a great deal of muscle-power – and a string of ear-scorching oaths – accompanied the efforts of its ragged crew.
Wes decided to make use of the respite it offered. Hurrying to his cabin, he cleaned up and changed his clothes before returning to the deck.
A great many of the steamboat’s passengers were lining the rails and watching the continuing saga of the keelboat with varying degrees of partisanship and Wes saw Aaron leaning on the rails among them.
As he made his way towards his friend someone stepped into his path and Wes recognized the young man with whom he had tangled in the saloon.
He stopped, anticipating trouble, but there was no aggression in the other man’s demeanour this morning.
Aware of Wes’s apprehension, the Senator’s son said, ‘It’s all right, sir, I am not out to cause trouble. I think I did enough of that last night. My name is David Connolly and I have been looking for you in order to apologise before leaving the boat at Memphis.’
‘That’s fine with me,’ Wes replied, ‘but I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologising to. It was the dealer you accused of cheating – and whose arm you were hurting.’
A contrite expression crossed the young man’s face. ‘I am aware of that, sir, and I am deeply sorry. It was my twenty-first birthday last week and my father took me visiting friends and relatives along the river, with the intention of making a man of me – or so he said. If by that he meant drinking myself silly every night, I guess he succeeded. Unfortunately, it didn’t end there. On the way back we stopped at Vicksburg, where an uncle is with the garrison and a party was thrown for me. I had a great deal to drink and carried on when we came aboard. I know that’s no excuse for my behaviour but it’s the best I can do … and it’s the truth.’
Wes believed the young man was being honest and felt genuinely ashamed of the way he had behaved in the gambling saloon. Relaxing, he said, ‘Well … I think you might have learned there’s more to becoming a man than pouring strong drink down your throat.’
‘I have, sir … and I thank you for not shooting me when I tried to pull a gun on you.’
Wes smiled at the young man, ‘Fortunately for you I don’t carry a gun, but I accept your apology and, for what it’s worth, I think you’re more of a man because of it.’
‘Thank you, sir, I would like to shake your hand, but before I do perhaps I could ask you to give this to the woman who was dealing cards at the table?’
Handing Wes a sealed envelope, he explained, ‘I’ve been looking around the boat for her this morning but couldn’t find her. My father and me are leaving the boat at Memphis but I didn’t think it would be a good idea to ask any of the crew which cabin she is in, so I wrote a note of apology. I would be obliged if you could give it to her.’
‘Of course,’ Wes took the envelope and slid it into a pocket.
The two men shook hands and David Connolly said, ‘It looks as though we’re going in now. I’d better go to my cabin and make certain everything’s ready to be taken off.’
Only when the young man had hurried away did Wes realize that Aaron had moved towards him and was standing nearby, his coat unbuttoned. Wes had become sufficiently acquainted with the ways of the West to realize this would have given the US Marshal rapid access to his revolver, had it been required.
‘You okay?’ Aaron asked.
‘I’m fine. I just had a handsome apology from the Senator’s son and I think it was genuine. When I said he should be apologising to Anabelita he said he’d tried but couldn’t find her.’
Patting the pocket that held the envelope given to him by David Connolly, he added, ‘He wrote an apology and asked me to give it to her.’
Aaron nodded, ‘You’d better take it up to her now, there’s time before we berth and you don’t want to risk losing it when we go ashore … you know where to find her.’
When Wes looked startled, Aaron said, ‘I went to our cabin before coming down here and saw your bunk hadn’t been slept in. I hope this is the only apology you’ll need to hand to her by the time we reach Saint Louis.’
Before Wes could express the indignation he felt at his friend’s words, Aaron said, ‘She’s not like Lola, Wes. Anabelita is basically a good girl – and it was Lola herself who told me that. It’s a rare attribute in her business and you could hurt her far more than young Connolly did.’
Biting back a retort that what he did was none of the marshal’s business, Wes said, ‘I’ll bear that in mind … and talking of young Connolly, it looks as though his father is heading this way to have words with you, so I’ll be off to deliver Anabelita’s letter.’
When Senator Connolly reached Aaron, he frowned in the direction of the hastily departing Wes and said, ‘I was hoping to have a word with your friend …’
‘If it’s something important I’ll call him back for you, Senator. If not I’ll be happy to pass on any message to him.’
‘No, it’s you I really want to speak to. Do you intend taking the matter of my son’s foolish escapade any further?’
Feigning surprise, Aaron said, ‘Has something happened involving him, Senator? You’ll have to tell me about it sometime, I don’t remember a thing.’
Senator Connolly stared at Aaron uncertainly for a few moments before saying, ‘I hope you mean that, Marshal Berryman. I don’t think the Attorney General would approve of the type of female company kept by one of his most respected Marshals … if he were to be told about it.’
‘Is that so, Senator?’ A hard expression had come to Aaron’s face, although only someone who k
new him well would have recognized signs of the anger that had welled up inside him. ‘Do you know, you’ve just helped me remember what it was that happened last night. As for the Attorney General … the last time you spoke of him to me I forgot to mention that he and I were young officers together in the Military Academy. There’s not much we don’t know about each other and when we get together we enjoy a chat over a drink or two about the changing habits of young men today and agree that a little army discipline might do some of them a power of good. Sometimes we’re fortunate enough to have the company of the President, who is of the opinion that more often than not it’s the parents who are to blame when a promising young man’s behaviour leaves something to be desired. We all agree that some parents just aren’t worth a damn! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go ashore to meet someone … someone important.’
Aaron had seen Wes heading towards him once more. The gangway had been half-lowered in readiness for berthing and, turning his back on the Louisiana Senator, Aaron went to meet him.
‘Did you deliver young Connolly’s apology?’ he asked.
Wes shook his head, ‘I think she must have gone to the washroom. I’ll give it to her when we come back on board.’
Inclining his head in the direction of the departing Senator, he said, ‘We both seem popular with the Connolly family this morning. Was he apologising for his son too?’
‘Quite the reverse!’ Aaron said, ‘Senator Connolly believes in the divine right of politicians to substitute threats for apologies. I hope young Connolly grows up to be his own man – and not his father’s.’
CHAPTER 11
United States Marshal Heck McKinnon was a man of about fifty years of age with a bushy, greying moustache, and his frame carried twice the bulk of Aaron Berryman. Unlike most US Marshals, he wore cowboy clothes, his gleaming marshal’s badge pinned to a fringed buckskin waistcoat. He also carried two revolvers in open holsters, one on each hip.
His actions when he saw Aaron about to step onto the gangway which now linked the Missouri Belle to the land were as flamboyant as his appearance, bellowing a greeting that pained the eardrums of those standing closest to him.
Using his considerable weight to carve a passage through the crowd separating him from the steamboat, he reached Aaron as he stepped ashore and enfolded him in a bear hug that caused the watching Wes to wince.
Aaron merely grinned. Escaping from the embrace, he grasped the big man’s hand, saying, ‘Glad to see you haven’t changed since we last met, Heck, and you’re looking well but I’d like you to meet a friend of mine from Cornwall, in England. He was my right-hand man when we dealt with the river pirates downriver from Vicksburg.’
‘We’ve heard all about it up here,’ Heck McKinnon said, reaching out a large hand to Wes, ‘It was a reckoning that was long overdue – and by all accounts you made a good job of it. I’m pleased to meet you boy … and to know Aaron has someone to keep an eye on him. He’s inclined to jump into things convinced The Almighty is in there on his side. So far He has been, but I’m scared that one day when he’s needed The Almighty’s going to be busy elsewhere.’
‘Unfortunately, Wes won’t let me pin a badge on him,’ Aaron said, ‘He’s set on going mining somewhere around Harmony, up Missouri way.’
Heck McKinnon frowned, ‘That’s not a good idea right now. I’ve been called up there a couple of times to help out the Missouri deputies. The miners are mostly German and have got themselves a Union that’s hell-bent on getting more money from mine owners. The owners are having none of it and are laying off the Germans and bringing in men from outside, mostly English and Welsh. It’s causing a lot of trouble. There have been three murders in the last month alone, and everyone’s lost count of the shootings, stabbings and brawls. If you take my advice you’ll stay clear of the Harmony area, Wes. If you’re serious about mining I’d suggest you head farther west – to Colorado territory, perhaps, but only if you’re as handy with a gun as Aaron says you are. I was up there a few weeks ago, arresting a no-good Dutchman from Arkansas who’d murdered his family before heading West. Just about every other miner who’s there claims to be from Cornwall. They’re taking out a sizeable amount of gold – although most lose it again in Denver before they can put it to good use. There’s money to be made there sure enough, but those who strike it rich need to be able to take care of themselves. With no law to speak of it’s a case of “every man for himself”.’
‘I’ll remember what you’ve said,’ Wes replied, ‘but an uncle of mine is at Harmony and expecting me to come out and join him, so I need to go there before I make any more plans.’
‘We’ll discuss it some more on the way to St Louis,’ Aaron promised, ‘right now, me and Heck have things to talk about …’
Wes was making his way towards the gangway of the Missouri Belle, when a way was cleared by the dockside officials for Senator Connolly and his son who were disembarking followed by half-a-dozen ship’s porters bearing heavy portmanteaus on their shoulders.
David Connolly saw Aaron and briefly raised a hand to chest height in a tentative gesture of acknowledgement.
Nearby, Marshal McKinnon saw the Senator and said wryly to Aaron, ‘You’ve been travelling in exalted company – and Connolly would be the first to tell you so.’
‘He did,’ Aaron replied, ‘At least, he tried, when Wes had occasion to put his boy right on a small matter of etiquette, but two can play that game. I pulled the “I’m a friend of the President” line on him and he crawled back into his hole.’
‘I’ve never met his son,’ Heck McKinnon admitted, ‘Does he take after his old man?’
‘No, I think he shows promise. Wes thinks so too and he’s had more to do with him than me.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ McKinnon replied, ‘but I wouldn’t trust Senator Connolly any farther than I could throw him. He was a Confederate supporter when the war began, but switched his allegiance at just the right moment. As a result he not only managed to keep his own fine house and lands, but buy up those of his less fortunate neighbours. My deputies tell me he’s rumoured to be sympathetic towards a band of hooligans calling themselves the Ku Klux Klan who go around whipping and killing freedmen … but let’s forget about Senator Connolly, we’ve more interesting things to talk about. I believe you’re on your way West to take over as Marshal for the Territories, but stopping off at Kansas City first? Kansas City’s a lively place, sure enough, but big business is taking over now they have the stockyards up and running well. The real action is taking place farther west. Cowboys are still raising hell in Abilene, Dodge and Wichita and, as I told Wes, there’s money to be made in the mining camps of Colorado, with very little law to speak of.’
‘That’s pretty much what I’ve heard – and so has the President, but, although I’m likely to keep an office in Kansas City, at least for a while, I’ve been given a roving commission so that when I return to Washington I’ll be able to give the President a personal assessment of what needs to be done to bring law and order to the Territories – especially to Colorado. He’s concerned about what’s going on out that way.’
‘He’s every reason to be,’ Marshal McKinnon agreed, ‘but unless he’s willing to get the army involved I can’t see things changing very much. I’ve needed to go to Colorado Territory and Indian Country myself on occasions and they’re not the most comfortable places for a lawman. Half the outlaws in the United States seem to have moved West – and to most a badge is just something to shoot at. Anyone trying to take a prisoner and bring him East needs a whole parcel of men to back him.’
‘I don’t plan on taking too many prisoners,’ Aaron replied, ‘I’m coming to look at what needs to be done. I also have one or two business ventures in mind that should keep me amused while I’m doing it.’
‘So you said in your letter,’ Heck McKinnon said, ‘and I’ve looked into the prospects, like you asked me. Now, if it was me setting something up to get rich quick, I’d be looking at Color
ado Territory – but I’d go no farther than Denver. West of there they’d rather shoot lawmen than bobcats. Even Denver itself isn’t too healthy, the mayor and council are about as straight as the Mississippi – and a sight more dangerous.’
Aaron smiled at his fellow Marshal’s assessment of life in Colorado, ‘I’m not out to get rich quick, Heck. I’ll be happy just to make something to add to my pension when I hand in my badge.’
‘That’s what I hoped you might say,’ Heck McKinnon said unexpectedly, ‘because I think I might have found something to interest you not too far from Kansas City. I was up that way a couple of weeks ago when I heard that Henry Scobell, owner of the Golden Gate gambling saloon in Abilene had died in a shoot-out. Abilene is just down the line from Kansas City and I went there to see his widow. She ran a bordello in St Louis before she married Henry and I’ve known her for some years. She told me she was putting the Golden Globe up for sale and heading East to find out what living like a lady is all about. She’s in no hurry to sell, so I suggest you look in on her and perhaps make her an offer. The Golden Globe got itself a bad name when Henry was running the place so she’s not expecting to make a fortune from selling up, but I had a look around – and was impressed. It’s got a hell of a lot of potential, Aaron. If word gets around that it’s you who’s bought it and are running honest games, cattlemen and cowboys bringing cattle in from Texas for railroading to Kansas City will flock there – and they have good money to spend.’
While Aaron was thinking about what his friend had told him, Heck McKinnon added, ‘What’s more, I know two good men who would be happy to take on the job of keeping order in the place for you. One is an ex-sheriff and Texas Ranger, who’s recently retired. The other’s an ex-deputy United States Marshal, Pat Rafferty. He lost an arm in a fight with a gang in Indian Territory, but, one arm or not, he’s a deadly shot with a rifle. They’re both good men who would enjoy looking after things for US Marshal Berryman in an honest establishment.’
No Less Than the Journey Page 7