The Amen Trail

by Sharon Sala

  “The man you’re lookin’ for ain’t over here, so back off,” Eulis said.

  “I reckon I’ll see for myself,” Hodges muttered, and started to shove Eulis aside.

  Fearing Eulis would get himself hurt trying to protect her, she quickly crawled out of bed and stood beside him, meeting the big man’s surprised gaze.

  “Like he said, Mister. We aren’t hiding anything. Look somewhere else for your killer.”

  There was noise on the other side of the room, as if someone was trying to make a break. Everyone turned to look just as a young, stocky man made a run for the door.

  “Grab him!” Hodges shouted.

  Suddenly, the man was on the floor and begging for his life.

  “Let me go! Let me go!” he begged, then began to cry, bawling in earnest as he realized what his fate would be. “I didn’t do anything. I swear, I didn’t do anything. You’ve got the wrong man.”

  Hodges thrust the lamp near his face and then snarled.

  “By God, it’s you, Art Masters, it’s you. You shot Henry Cummings in the back.”

  “I didn’t. I swear, I didn’t. You got the wrong man.”

  “He said your name before he died. He said you took his poke and then left him to die.”

  Subconsciously, the man’s hand moved to his waist.

  Hodges yanked it back then ripped open his shirt. A small leather pouch fell out onto the floor. Hodges picked it up.

  “Look here! All of you look! This leather pouch has Henry’s initials. H.C. Why would a man named Art Masters be carryin’ a pouch belongin’ to a dead man, unless he’s the one who stole it off him?”

  Realizing he was caught, Masters started to beg. “Take it! Here! Take it and be done with it. It was an accident anyway. Just let me go. I’ll leave and never come back. You can have Cumming’s claim. No one will know. No one will care.”

  “I’ll know,” Hodges said, and then pointed to everyone who was staring at the man in disbelief. “And they’ll know. All of them. You shot a man in the back, which makes you the dirtiest sort of a killer. You’re a coward, man, and you’re gonna die.”

  Masters started begging and pleading, but to no avail.

  Letty watched, stunned into silence by the violence of the moment. When they grabbed the man up and began dragging him out of the room, most of the others went back to their beds, while a few followed the vigilantes.

  When Eulis saw that they were gone, he relaxed his stance and sat down on the side of the bed.

  “What are they going to do with him?” Letty asked.

  “Most likely hang him,” Eulis said.

  “Good Lord,” Letty muttered, and dropped onto her cot with a thump. She stared down at her boots, uncertain whether to take them off or leave them on, just in case there was more trouble later.

  “It’s no more than he deserves,” Eulis said. “People got to protect themselves the best way they know how in places like this. Claim jumpin’ is as serious here as horse stealin’. You can’t let a back shooter get away with murder.” Then he turned around and looked at her. “Go back to sleep. I’ll stay awake for a bit to make sure everything has settled down.”

  Letty nodded and stretched out on her cot, but she didn’t close her eyes. Instead, she found herself looking at the back of Eulis’s head and the hard set of his shoulders as he sat between her and the world, and it occurred to her that, not since her father, had anyone ever cared enough about her to look after her welfare. She didn’t know whether Eulis was doing it out of duty, or because he cared, and right now she didn’t much care. It felt good—real good—to know that he was there.

  “Eulis.”

  “Hunh?”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  Letty frowned. “I don’t know… just thank you, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said, and then smiled to himself as he heard her hit the bed with a flop.

  A few minutes passed.

  The room and the men finally settled down, though a few, like Eulis had decided that caution was needed, and they sat up on their cots with their guns at the ready.

  Eulis was so busy watching the door to make sure there were no more surprises coming through it, that he missed seeing the man staring at them from the other side of the room. But if he had, he would have been none too happy to know that Boston Jones, the gambler who’d been one of the passengers on the stagecoach on which they’d been riding, was once again, back in their lives. Boston was surprised to see them here and more than curious as to what had happened to them. If it hadn’t been for the woman speaking up, he wouldn’t have recognized either one of them, but her voice had been unmistakable. Only there were noticeable differences about them from the first time they’d met.

  The preacher was leaner and there was a hard expression on his face that hadn’t been there before. The woman was thinner, too, and wearing men’s clothing. But the thing he noticed most was that they seemed to have switched power. Before, Sister Leticia had been bossy, constantly ordering the preacher around, but now it was just the reverse. Right now the preacher was on guard with his rifle across his lap and the woman had gone back to bed, obviously trusting him to take care of them both.

  Boston stretched his legs out on the cot, locked his hands behind his head, and leaned back until he was resting against the wall. He sat that way for a while, listening to a couple of men talking quietly in the back while the man next to him snored. Soon, he began to grow sleepy again. He stood up, straightened his bed clothes, and then lay back down. One more time, he glanced across the room to where the preacher and his woman were sleeping, and realized the preacher was lying down and already asleep.

  Boston frowned. Ordinarily, he wasn’t so unobservant. He swiped a hand over his face then felt beneath his bedroll, making sure his handgun was handy and closed his eyes. When he opened them next, it was morning.

  ***

  Someone yelled “breakfast”. Within moments, all of the sleepers were rousing, anxious not to miss the meal that came with the cost of the room. Letty got up quickly and made a quick run to the outhouse, leaving Eulis to see to their belongings. He rolled up their bedrolls and stacked them on top of their bags, then carried his rifle with him as he took a quick trip outside, himself and took a piss behind a tree by the inn. By the time he came back, diners were gathering at the table, only Letty was noticeably missing. He felt a brief moment of panic and then backtracked.

  Although it was still early, barely daybreak, the air was warm and still. The sky was a dirty color of gray and held a promise of rain. Eulis paused on the back stoop, listening for anything that seemed out of place, but heard nothing alarming. He was just about to go in search of Letty when she came around the corner of the inn.

  She looked startled when she saw him.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I was about to ask you the same question,” Eulis said.

  Letty frowned. “I told you where I was going.”

  “I know.”

  “There was a line.”

  “Oh… well, I was just coming to check, that’s all.”

  “I’m fine. Let’s eat.”

  Eulis followed her back into the inn, pausing only once to look behind him, and then firmly closed the door.

  ***

  Mrs. Cocker was carrying in a huge platter of hot biscuits when Letty took a seat at the table.

  “Good morning, Mrs.,” the innkeeper said.

  “It’s Miss,” Letty said, and scooted over slightly so that Eulis had room to sit down.

  The innkeeper arched her eyebrows, but said nothing more.

  Letty glanced up only long enough to see if anyone had been paying attention, then breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that the men were too intent on eating to pay attention to what the two women had been saying.

  Eulis leaned over and spoke quietly in Letty’s ear.

  “Food looks good, don’t it, Letty?”

  “Smells even bette
r,” Letty said. “Sure beats what we’ve been calling food.”

  “Now that we’re here, we’ll do better.”

  “Not unless you do the cooking,” she said.

  The only eating utensils were large spoons, but Letty could have cared less. She was starved for real food, and would have gladly eaten it with her fingers, if necessary. She picked up her spoon and was about to take her first bite, when she heard a familiar voice.

  “Since there’s a preacher here at the table, don’t you reckon we oughta’ have him bless the food? Especially after the set-to we had last night.”

  Letty felt Eulis flinch as she looked up. Boston Jones was staring at them from the other end of the table.

  “Preacher? Who’s a preacher?” Mrs. Cocker asked.

  Boston pointed at Eulis. “That man there is Reverend Howe. Right, preacher?” Then he tipped his hat at Letty and smirked. “Good morning, Sister Leticia. I trust you slept well after the trouble last night.”

  “I slept fine,” Letty said, and then saw Mrs. Cocker smiling congenially, far more friendly than she’d been when they had arrived yesterday evening.

  She glanced at Eulis, who was grim-faced and pale. She grabbed his hand beneath the table and gave it a squeeze, then picked up her spoon as if nothing was amiss and stared pointedly at Boston Jones.

  “The preacher has suffered a setback in his calling since we last saw you. He no longer wishes to be referred to as preacher and in fact no longer wishes to be called by his given name. He has taken the name of his maternal grandfather, Eulis Potter. And in the same vein, I would appreciate just being called by my name, Leticia Murphy… or Letty. I’m sure you’ll understand.”

  Mrs. Cocker looked disappointed, but didn’t comment. Instead, she shoved a platter of hot cakes toward Eulis, offering him first serving.

  “Help yourself,” she said. “No ceremony around here.”

  Eulis slid a couple of hot cakes onto his plate then passed the plate to Letty, who took a helping and passed it on. Conversation quickly resumed among the men. They were more than familiar with bad turns in life. For most of them it was the reason they were here hoping to strike it rich—hoping for a miracle. No one cared if some preacher had lost his religion. They cared even less that the ex-preacher had a female companion who was not his wife. But Boston Jones wasn’t as easily sidetracked. He leaned forward so that he was looking directly into Eulis’s face and pointed his spoon at him.

  “So you’re saying that we shouldn’t be expecting any rousing sermons intended to save our souls?”

  “That’s right,” Eulis said, then smiled at Mrs. Cocker. “Real fine biscuits, ma’am.”

  She beamed.

  “That’s a shame,” Boston said.

  Letty was tired of his needling. She’d never liked the man anyway, but he was really starting to get on her nerves. She licked the gravy off her spoon, then pointed it at Boston Jones.

  “Not half as big a shame as all the gold dust you’ll probably steal from the miners in your crooked card games.”

  Boston flinched. He’d underestimated the woman. The men gathered around the table were all looking at him with new interest, and most of it didn’t look good. He glared back at Letty, blaming her for the wave of mistrust. This didn’t bode well for the success that he’d expected.

  “I do not run a crooked game and I take exception to the accusation. Are you insinuating that I’m a crook?” he asked.

  Eulis was starting to get nervous. Letty had accused the man of that very thing without any proof.

  “Letty, maybe you should—”

  Letty pointed down the table at the platter of fried eggs.

  “Would someone please pass the eggs?”

  Eulis sighed. He recognized the jut of Letty’s chin and went back to his food.

  The gambler didn’t have Eulis’s knowledge of the woman or his experience of her persistence. He would have been better off if he’d concentrated on his food instead of pissing off the former Sister Leticia. But since he didn’t know, he pushed when he should have shut his mouth.

  The egg platter came down the table, hand to hand, but when it got to Boston Jones, he didn’t pass it on. Instead, he held it.

  “Lady, I asked you a question. You called me a crook, but you had nothing to back that up other than the fact that we spent a miserable trip together in the same coach.”

  Letty had no qualms about revealing this man’s true colors because he’d thrown the first rock. He’d belittled both her and Eulis, and insinuated that there was something criminal about them using another name. As far as she was concerned, he’d asked for what he was about to get.

  “Actually, it was during that same trip that I saw what you can do. That deck of cards that you fiddled with all the way from Dodge City to Ft. Mays was marked.”

  He slammed the platter of eggs on the table and stood abruptly.

  “You lie! You’re just trying to ruin my reputation to further that damned religion you claimed to preach. You’re nothing but some pious, mealy-mouthed female with a hate against men.”

  “I don’t lie and I don’t give a horse’s ass for your reputation. You threw the first stone here, mister when you started this conversation, and just for the record, I am anything but pious.”

  Eulis grabbed her arm.

  “Don’t, Letty. Don’t speak ill of yourself just to prove he’s a bastard.”

  “What is he talking about?” Boston asked.

  Letty lifted her chin and stared him straight in the face.

  “Oh, that’s just Eulis trying to protect me from myself, which he’s been trying to do, and without success, for some years. I know you’re crooked because I saw your marked deck, and if anyone should recognize a marked deck, that would be me. My last place of residence, before my friend and I started on the Amen Trail, was at the White Dove Saloon in Lizard Flats. So don’t tell me I don’t know a marked deck when I see one, or a bastard when I meet one. I’m an expert at men. I used to sleep with them for money.”

  There was a gasp behind her, which Letty knew came from Mrs. Cocker, followed by a stunned silence from the men at the table. Then Eulis cleared his throat.

  “Gentlemen… Letty, here asked someone to pass the eggs.”

  The man next to Boston snagged the platter and passed it down, then nodded cordially at Letty.

  “Name’s Riley Whitmore. Right nice to meet you, ma’am,” he said, and then nodded at Eulis, too. “Ever been to a gold camp?”

  “Nope,” Eulis said.

  “Me neither,” he said. “I reckon I’m about half scared and the rest of the way excited. Had a farm back in Pennsylvania. Got flooded out three years in a row then hailed out the next year. Decided to try my hand at something a little easier.”

  “Ain’t nothin’ easy about pannin’ for gold,” another man said.

  Whitmore grinned. “Obviously, you ain’t never tried your hand at farming.”

  The men laughed, and the tension disappeared. But Boston Jones didn’t laugh. He quickly finished his food, then got his pack and rode away, anxious to set himself up in Denver City. He told himself these few men didn’t matter. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands of men in the gold fields. He had no reason to assume he’d ever come in contact with any of these people again.

  But that didn’t include Letty Murphy, and promised himself that if the situation ever occurred, he would get his revenge against that woman or know the reason why.

  THE TOWER OF BABEL

  With Four Mile Inn behind them, Letty and Eulis set off for Denver City. Whether they would admit it to themselves or not, they each had dreams of striking it rich. Funny thing was that their dreams never went beyond the strike. Eulis couldn’t see his future past today, and Letty was afraid to think of a future for fear of jinxing it.

  But their excitement was obvious as they chattered amiably while hitching up the team. It continued through the early morning until they rounded a bend in the road about a quarter of a
mile from their destination. There, hanging from the limb of a very large oak tree, was the claim jumper the men had hauled out of the Inn last night. Whatever personal goals Art Masters had entertained were over. And by leaving his body hanging in plain sight on the road into town, the message was plain. Claim jumpers and back shooters were not tolerated.

  Eulis looked away and grew silent. But Letty kept looking, staring at the man’s darkened face and soiled clothes and as she did, noticed that he was wearing only one shoe. It wasn’t until they grew even with the dangling body that she saw the other one near an old wooden bucket that had been abandoned by the road. She’d seen men hanged before and was familiar with what some called the dance of death—the kicking and jerking that a hanging man does as the life and breath are strangled out of him.

  “Looks like he kicked the bucket,” she said, and pointed.

  Eulis’s eyes widened as he saw what she was pointing at, and then he looked at Letty, unable to believe that she’d just made a joke about a dead man.

  “Dang it, Letty. You hadn’t oughta make fun of a man like that.”

  “A man like what?” Letty asked.

  Eulis frowned. “You know what I meant. The man’s dead.”

  “So’s the fellow he back shot.”

  Eulis was silent for a moment, then he looked back at Letty and nodded.

  “You know what? You’re right. The fellow don’t deserve a second thought.”

  Letty smiled smugly. “Of course I’m right. I’m always right.” Then she laughed out loud and elbowed Eulis. “And don’t you forget it.”

  Eulis grinned and the moment passed.

  Within the half hour, they came upon the gold camp. Eulis pulled up at the top of the hill to look down into the valley below.

  “Holy Moses,” he muttered, and whistled between his teeth.

  “What in hell is that?” Letty asked.

  “You cursed,” Eulis said. “I reckon that there is Denver City, although I’d heard it just called Denver, too.”

  “I did curse,” Letty said. “And, I miss-spoke. What I meant to say was, is that hell?”

  The sight below was like nothing either one of them had ever seen. It was like looking at the inside of a very busy, but very violent ant hill. There were people everywhere—in the creek—in the dirt-packed streets—going into tents—coming out of tents—loading wagons—unloading wagons—and fighting. What seemed most at odds with the sight was the Arapaho encampment on the other side of the creek.