by Bill Brooks
“Nothing, mister,” Dave says, then holsters the pistol and orders another beer and takes up the warming of his frozen feet again.
Soon after the place empties out, except for Dave, who is remembering how he was once a deputy marshal in Dodge City, Kansas, and shot three or four cowboys and one or two soldiers and a Mexican vaquero. His memory of this is as clear as rainwater for several long blissful moments. He remembers too that he used to ride out almost every day to a lone soddy, where he fornicated with a woman named Maude, who had a passel of kids running ’round outside screaming the whole time he and Maude were in the bed, and sometimes scorpions would fall into the bed with them from the dirt roof over their heads. Sometimes the scorpions would fall in their hair as they were fornicating.
Then the memory goes away and all Dave knows is that he is drinking beer and warming his cold feet.
Comes closing time. The bartender is tired and wants to go home to his missus, but is cautious about disturbing the mysterious feller still sitting by the potbelly. The mysterious feller has kept his boots so close to the potbelly that the bartender can smell his boot leather baking.
The bartender chooses instead to count out the evening’s receipts and when finished, he goes to the back room to lock them in the safe. When he returns, the mysterious feller’s chair is empty, the front door is left swung open.
The bartender hopes the mysterious feller doesn’t come back. He was bad for business.
Chapter 8
They rode toward Silver City cautious, John saying how it was possible Hoodoo Brown could have wired every lawman in New Mexico about the escape.
“I think we’d be wise to keep right on riding clean on down to the Rio Grande and cross it,” John said.
“You’re probably right, but there’s somebody here I mean to see.”
“Woman, I’m guessing. Why else would you risk getting shot or jailed…”
“Woman’s good a reason as any, I reckon. You lost all your taste for women, John?”
“The wrong kinds, yeah. I sorta did when I shot Maria. Least until I can get down to the old place, cross that river where I ain’t wanted no more.”
“You can go on if that’s what you want. Like I said before, you don’t owe me anything.”
“I reckon I’ll ride with you for a while. Least ways until you make up your mind which way your stick is going to float.”
They swung down from the dusty hills and onto the south road about a mile from the town and rode like two old hands off a cattle drive.
“I helped bring a herd up into this part of the territory once—little farther east of here, though. Charley Goodnight run ’em out of Belknap all the way to Fort Sumner. Two thousand head of the mossiest longhorns you ever wanted to get behind. Had some high old times in Fort Sumner, though.”
The sun was beginning to set throwing shadows over the land. Their horses looked like they had legs ten feet long.
“Might be best if I held up here for a spell and let you ride in alone, then I’ll come in after dark,” John said. “If Hoodoo did send a wire to the local, he’ll be watching for two men riding together.”
“Okay,” Teddy said. “Why don’t we meet up in the morning out front of the telegraph office. I’ll need to send a wire to George, let him know the situation.”
“Listen,” John said. “Things go bad for either one of us, the other should just ride away if he’s able. We agreed?”
Teddy nodded.
“See you tomorrow, amigo,” John said, and turned his horse back off the road and up toward a stand of junipers. Teddy watched him for a moment, then rode on.
The last bit of sun glanced off the few metal roofs of the town’s buildings and glowed golden in the dust. The mud of the adobe walls looked warm with the fading sun on it. Teddy reined in in front of the first saloon he saw, tied off, and went inside.
It was a small narrow room with a long bar running down one side, a few tables with chairs occupied by that breed of single men who had no home nor wife nor children to go home to at the supper hour. Teddy knocked dust off his coat, what he could that wasn’t crusted by the rain they’d ridden through two nights earlier.
He ordered a whiskey and when the barkeep brought it, Teddy threw four bits on the bar. The barkeep said, “It’s only two bits, a shot is.” Teddy replied, “That other is for a question I want to ask you.” The barkeep took up the money and said, “Go ahead.”
Teddy asked if he knew of a woman named Kathleen Bonney.
“She’d be fairly new in the area,” he said.
“She runs a boardinghouse just off the main drag,” the man said. “Got a boy with her, rough kid.”
Teddy nodded, tossed back his whiskey, said, “Which direction off the main drag?”
“West, mister, first cross street you come to, almost right there on the corner. Got flower boxes under the winders. She don’t know how hard it is to grow anything ’round here that ain’t got thorns.”
“Obliged.”
The light was all but gone by the time he came out of the saloon. Evening was settling in, easy as a breath. Teddy hoped it stayed that way.
He mounted and rode on down the street, turned onto the first cross street and saw immediately the house—smaller than the one she ran in Cheyenne. He reined in, tied off, tried again to knock some more trail off him, then gave up and knocked on the door.
She looked thinner than before, more pale.
She smiled when she saw him, smiled and stood there without saying anything and he couldn’t think of anything to say either right away. It was good just to see her again and he figured she was thinking the same thing.
She looked past him finally, as though she expected him not to be alone, then she said, “You’ve come.”
“Not exactly the way I planned it, but I’m here and there is only one reason that I am.”
He took off his dusty hat and held it down alongside him in one hand and with the other he drew her to him and kissed her and she didn’t resist, but she didn’t exactly kiss him back either.
“You better come inside, lest we cause a scandal.”
He followed her into the dining room, where three men sat at the table, napkins stuffed into the throats of their shirts. They looked up from their plates. One, a man sitting near the head of the table, had long drooping brown moustaches and he looked especially hard at Teddy when Kathleen introduced him. There were two empty chairs and Teddy took one and somebody said, “Would you pass them peas,” and another border handed him the bowl.
Kathleen went and took her place at the head of the table and everyone continued eating mostly in silence. Teddy exchanged glances with her and noticed that the fellow with the shaggy brown moustaches kept a close watch on both of them.
It didn’t take long for everyone to finish their supper and for all but brown moustaches to excuse themselves and leave the room.
“My name’s Antrim,” the man said after a time. “Henry Antrim. I do some mining hereabouts. How is it you and Kathleen come to know each other?”
Teddy looked at this Mr. Henry Antrim with no inclination to explain himself.
Instead, Kathleen said, “We met in Cheyenne, Henry. Mr. Blue was kind enough to take a hand with William and help him out of a jam.”
Antrim cut his gaze from her to him.
“He’s full of spunk, that boy is. It will take a constant strong hand to keep him in line.”
Teddy wanted to say something to the effect that it sounded like Mr. Antrim was volunteering himself for the job, but only because of what was attached to the job. But he refrained for the sake of Kathleen, who looked clearly uncomfortable.
“Yes, sir,” Antrim said, almost as if he was answering an unspoken question. He sat back and showed no indication of leaving.
“I could stand to rent a room for a night or two if you have one available,” Teddy said at last.
She looked at him and he knew there wasn’t any room.
“I’m sorry,�
�� she said. “I only have three and they’re all rented…”
“That’s okay, I’ll find something at one of the hotels.”
“Might try the Fisher Hotel,” this Antrim said. “They got good rooms, clean, hardly no ticks.”
Teddy stood to leave.
“I’ll see you out,” Kathleen said.
Antrim started to stand, but Teddy cut his gaze to him—a warning look—and Antrim slumped back in his chair.
When they reached the front door, Kathleen stepped outside with Teddy.
“I guess I came at a bad time,” Teddy said. “Looks like you—”
She put her fingers to his lips.
“It’s not what you think,” she said.
“Tell me what it is, then.”
“He’s taken to me. He’s a good man, Teddy. He cares about William. I didn’t do anything to encourage him…” She coughed and the cough rattled through her like the sound of breaking glass. He took hold of her and held her until she stopped and he could feel her trembling still.
“I’ve not long to live,” she said. “I need someone to watch after William when I’m gone. He needs a father more than I need a husband…”
“I wish you had talked to me about this,” Teddy said.
“I wanted to…”
Teddy saw the curtain being pulled back slightly from one of the windows, saw Antrim’s face peering out.
“He’s asked me to marry him,” Kathleen said.
“Don’t. Not until at least we can talk about this first.”
“I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again…”
“I’m here now. Let me see you tomorrow.”
“Okay. But you have to understand the fix I’m in…”
He touched her cheek and wanted to kiss her again, but he didn’t want to set up a row between her and the man Antrim inside. She waited for him to mount his horse, stood in the doorway until he turned the animal’s head back up the street, then went inside and he could hear the door closing and with it his heart.
He found a bathhouse and washed the trail off his hide and paid to have his clothes cleaned. He asked for a hand mirror and shaved while still sitting in the zinc tub. The face he saw in the mirror was a stranger’s face. It was him, but it wasn’t him. The eyes were the eyes of an outlaw. He finished shaving and set about drinking from the bottle of bourbon he’d had sent for. And when he about knocked it clean down to the bottom, he lifted himself from the bath and dressed in fresh clothes and then went and found a hotel and fell into a fitful sleep. But soon a knock at the door awakened him. When he opened it, Antrim stood there, fists balled by his sides.
“I want you to leave her be,” Antrim said.
“We got no quarrel unless you want one.”
“She needs herself a father for the boy, that’s one thing. And she needs herself a steady man. You don’t look like no steady man to me.”
Teddy leveled his gaze at the man.
“I don’t need you telling me what I am, or what you think I am. My business is just that. Take a walk, Antrim.”
“I’ll fight you for her, goddamn if I won’t.”
“You’re interrupting my sleep.”
Antrim glared and was still glaring when Teddy closed the door in his face.
He tried going back to sleep, but it was no good and instead decided to go for a walk, maybe get a drink and weigh the situation. That’s when Antrim and some others caught him, just outside the hotel, a knot of them standing there.
They encircled him, Antrim saying, “We decided maybe it was time you just moved on, cowboy.”
Teddy sidestepped Antrim but brought a stinging right fist to the side of the man’s face, snapping his jaw with such blinding speed the others weren’t quite sure what happened. Antrim sagged to the boardwalk spitting blood, a tooth. One of the other men stepped in, swinging both hands like a windmill. One of the flailing fists glanced off Teddy’s shoulder, another knocked off his hat, but he battered the man with three fast jabs, knocking him back off the walk and into the street. Another swung a club that missed and Teddy brought up a sweeping left hook that smashed into the center of the man’s face and exploded his nose into a bloody pulp of bone and cartilage. The other two danced and feinted like they were going to challenge him, but when he turned on them, they ran.
Antrim was climbing to his feet again and Teddy was prepared to put him down just as quick. But Antrim held forth a palm, signifying he was finished.
“I’ll let it go this time,” he said. “But it ain’t going to be finished until one of us is left this town. You care anything at all about that woman, you’ll leave her alone.” Teddy’s hands rang with the shock of hitting the men. It hadn’t been a contest hardly and he felt half ashamed in some respects. But more so because Antrim was right when it came to Kathleen’s welfare. “Goddamn it to hell,” he muttered.
The next morning he went to the telegraph office to send George Bangs a wire and found one from George already waiting for him.
Our agency has been employed by Colonel W. F. Cody. He’s requested your services in particular. Need you to go to North Platte immediately. If unable or unwilling, send word as to the reason why, otherwise, I’ll expect further word from you once there. Cody will fill in the details upon your arrival.
G. Bangs
He debated whether to accept such an assignment. He thought about John, the law that was probably after them both. They could run to Mexico like John wanted to do, but in truth, he didn’t feel like becoming an expatriate. Maybe John did, it would be up to him.
He didn’t have to wait long to find out. John was standing out front of the telegrapher’s when Teddy came out. John stood there looking up and down the street, his eyes shaded by the Stetson.
“You get to pay your visit?” John said.
“Somewhat.”
“You staying or going with me?”
“Something’s come up.”
“Why don’t we cross over the street and have some breakfast and talk about it. That way if the law comes for us and we go down, we’ll go down with our bellies full, at least. I’m about tired of running anyway.”
“I am too.”
They took a seat by the window so they could watch the comings and goings of anyone out on the street. John ordered flapjacks and steak and Teddy did the same. They ate like starved drovers. Swallowed coffee black and hot. Then John took out his makings and rolled a shuck and lit it.
“Let’s hear it,” John said.
“I’ve been assigned to go down to Nebraska.”
“Goddamn, old son, you must be on the low end of the detective stick to get assigned to Nebraska. Nebraska ain’t nothing but grass and empty places.”
“Colonel Cody has requested me for a job. My boss wants me to go or tell him why I won’t.”
“You going, then?”
Teddy thought about last night—Kathleen and Antrim together and how things were.
“I’ve got to decide quick, John.”
“Go ahead.”
“What’s in Mexico you couldn’t find in Nebraska?”
“You wanting me to go with you?”
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
“What about this woman you came here to see?”
“I guess that isn’t going to work out.”
“Hardly ever does, I mean women and cowboys.”
“It’s less likely the law would catch you down in Mexico,” Teddy said. “You should think about it.”
Two women carrying parasols walked by the window and John took notice of them, then returned his attention to Teddy.
“What about you?” he said. “The law could find you too.”
“I don’t reckon they’ll be looking for me in Nebraska. Why would they?”
“Well, I don’t reckon they’d be looking for me in Nebraska either. I don’t reckon nobody would.”
“I need to say good-bye to my friend,” Teddy said. “Why don’t you go get us a good price for the horse
s and saddles. We’ll take a train. I’ll meet up with you at the depot, say in an hour.”
John nodded, said, “Nebraska…” as though he was still trying to get used to the idea.
Teddy knocked on Kathleen’s door and the boy, William, answered. The kid smiled and showed his squirrel teeth, said, “I wisht you’d come sooner, she’s about to marry that dang miner.”
“I know,” Teddy said. “I met him last night. You keeping your nose clean?”
The kid smirked, said, “Clean as anyone. She’s in the kitchen.”
Teddy went in and Kathleen turned away from the stove, her hands dusted with flour, a spot of it on her brow.
“I’ve come to say good-bye,” he said.
She didn’t say anything at first. Her feelings were evident in the sad way she looked at him. It felt a lot harder than he thought it would, saying good-bye.
“I won’t ask you to fight for me,” she said. He didn’t even consider telling her that he already had fought for her.
“Kathleen. I want you to know…”
“We both know what’s going to happen, Teddy. I’ll most likely be gone by the spring. It wouldn’t be fair to you…”
“But it would to Antrim?”
“No, not to him either, but he’s willing to do it. He knows the situation. I agreed to it already.”
He crossed the room and took her into his arms.
“Maybe the doctor’s wrong,” he said. “We could go back to Chicago, where they have good doctors.”
“The trip would only weaken me more.”
“Jesus, Kathleen…”
She kissed him and held to him.
“You go on now,” she whispered. “Go and find yourself someone who you can love for a very long time and who can love you just as long…”
He kissed her hair and she turned from him so he couldn’t see the tears brimming in her eyes.
“Go on, Mr. Blue. Let me keep my memories of us the way we were the last time we were together. Do that for me, please.”
He didn’t say anything, but turned instead and walked out.