Odessa

by Ginger Simpson

  She sputtered and coughed, swishing her hand back and forth in front of her face. “Oh, I’ll get you for that. As if I wasn’t dirty enough already.” She dug her heels into her mount and sped by, her hat flapping in the wind, its strap tight around her neck. “Beat you to Charleston,” she called over her shoulder.

  She urged the horse faster and faster, enjoying the wind in her face and hair. The easy gallop of the long-legged mare felt smoother than butter on a bun. Laughter bubbled inside Odessa, and new-found energy surged through her body. She stole another glance at Zach, giggling at the distance between them. His ego, no doubt, was in sad repair.

  He jabbed a pointing finger in the air and mouthed something she couldn’t make out. She laughed louder and harder, determined to win the race she’d challenged him to. But facing forward, her heart seized. Her eyes widened at the sheer drop looming ahead. Frequent flash floods had carved a jagged gash deep in the desert floor. A rising scream froze in her throat. She leaned her weight against the saddle cantle and tugged with all her might on the reins. The animal’s head swiveled to the side, showing wild eyes and foaming slobber, but kept the hectic pace, heading straight for the edge. Odessa released the reins and grabbed the saddle horn with both hands. With eyes scrunched closed, she clenched her teeth and prayed.

  “I see a good many enemies around, and mighty few friends.” —Bill Longley’s last words before he was hanged in 1878.

  Chapter Ten

  The mare jerked to a stop, almost unseating Odessa and sending her toppling over the animal’s head. She righted herself in the saddle, opened her eyes and peered over the cliff’s jagged edge. Her heart thudded like a smithy’s hammer against an anvil. She considered dismounting, but doubted her trembling legs would support her. Her mouth turned drier than the dust coating her hands.

  Zach reined Storm in next to her. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  She fidgeted beneath his beaded gaze. “I-I was only…”

  “You could have been killed if your horse had tripped and thrown you.” The stern but protective edge to his voice reminded her of Pa’s.

  “Tripped?” She craned her neck and peered over the bank into the gully below. “This ain’t no gopher hole.”

  He laughed. “Animals might run themselves to death, but I’ve yet to hear about one jumpin’ off a cliff.”

  “Well, excuse me for not being an experienced horsewoman. I never claimed to be one, you know? And…if I recall correctly, you raced past me first.”

  Zach dipped his chin. “You’re right. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have egged you on like that.” He lifted his gaze and expelled a loud breath. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

  “Not nearly as glad as I am.” She smiled, and grappled for the reins. “I promise not to be so foolhardy again.”

  “Sounds like a good idea for both of us. What say we continue on, but at a slower pace?”

  * * * *

  The horses’ hooves plodded a steady cadence on the worn trail winding down to a meager expanse of buildings and homes. Blinded by the orange orb hovering above the horizon, Odessa slanted a hand over her eyes and peered ahead. “Is that Charleston?”

  “Yep.” Zach never wasted words.

  She sighed. “Finally! For some reason I thought it would be bigger.”

  “It’s big enough to get a hot meal, and I’m starving.” He nudged Storm with his heels and displayed a grin wider than she’d seen for days.

  The thought of sitting down to a prepared supper did sound appealing, and she urged her mount onward. A bath, clean linens, new clothes, hot food—her smile broadened, too. “Pot roast,” she mumbled.

  “What?” Zach slowed and glanced over at her.

  “Pot roast!” she declared louder this time. “That’s what I’m gonna have.”

  “Sounds good to me. I’m not challengin’ you to a race, but let’s pick up the pace. I can almost smell that beef from here.”

  The blinding sun drifted below the taller buildings as she and Zach rode into town. Although the town looked deserted from a distance, horses of all colors stood tethered to the hitching rails lining the thoroughfare. Urine and manure soaked the areas around the animals, and the rancid odor hung in the air. Odessa held the reins with one hand and covered her nose with the other. “The smell sort of ruins the thought of dinner.”

  “After a while, you won’t notice it.”

  She raised a brow. “If you’re insinuating I’ll grow to like the smell, I assure you I won’t. Don’t forget I came from another town very similar to this.” She lowered her hand and crinkled her nose.

  Zach shook his head. “Complaints, complaints.”

  Odessa thinned her lips. Maybe he was right.

  Down the main street, wooden walkways, elevated above the dusty street, looked gray with age and wear. The storefronts resembled those she’d seen in Tucson with their plate glass windows and fancy lettering. She made note of Miller’s Mercantile, the second stop she planned to make.

  From the saloon a few doors down, gay piano music and bawdy laughter drifted into the air, and a man staggered out the swinging doors and fell into the street. A plump woman, her face a mask of make-up highlighting blood red lips and her blonde hair piled high on her head, followed him and stood with her hands on her hips, chastising the drunk. Surely, her harsh words weren’t the reason Zach stared. Her ample bosom heaved as though it might spill out from the low confines of her dress. Odessa averted her gaze and searched for a hotel.

  An etched sign hanging overhead the walkway identified the haven she sought. “Look, Zach, Mrs. Hughes’ Boarding House.”

  He dragged his gaze from the pair in front of the saloon and nodded. “Let’s tie up out front. I’ll take the horses to the livery after we eat.”

  Stepping down from the saddle, Odessa stood on wobbly legs and hobbled up the few stairs to the front door. All eyes in the busy lobby turned in her direction as soon as she entered. Her cheeks warmed, imagining the people’s thoughts. The word “ragamuffin” came to mind. Her grandmother used the term to describe unwashed and unkempt souls passing through Tucson from time-to-time. How fortunate Granny couldn’t see her granddaughter now. Odessa meshed her fingers together and shifted her weight from one foot to another under the heavy stares. She focused on the floral sofas, wing-backed chairs and matching draperies. Even the woman’s eyes in the huge painting above the mantle seemed to glare at her.

  Zach removed his hat and splayed his fingers through his flat hair. He nodded toward the dining room, clearly marked across the foyer from the mahogany check-in desk. Odessa smoothed her dirty skirt and tucked freed wisps of hair behind her ears. “I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered, reluctant to venture further.

  He turned and took her soiled hand. “Don’t fret so. All kinds of folks travel through this town. Besides, you don’t know these people.” He tugged her in the direction of a room filled with crisp, white-covered tables a few feet away. Inside, the wonderful smell of fresh-baked apple pie filled the room. Her stomach rumbled.

  She expected him to be a gentleman, but instead he plopped down and perused a hand-written menu with much the same interest as a man ordering his last meal.

  Odessa cleared her throat. “Never mind, I can pull out my own chair.”

  He glanced up, cheeks red. “Sorry, guess I forgot my manners.” He started to rise.

  “No need.” She held up her hand and sat, snatching her own food list and holding it in front of her face. Despite her hunger, disappointment blurred the words. “I wonder if you would have remembered your manners if I dressed like the woman from the saloon.” Her thoughts tumbled out before she could halt them.

  “Huh?” Zach glanced up. “You say something?”

  “Nothing important.” She rubbed the tenseness from her jaw and noticed pot roast featured as
“today’s special.” Hunger overcame her anger, and her mouth watered.

  A red-haired woman clad in a starched apron appeared tableside, holding a pad and pencil. “What will you folks have this evenin’?” A sneer formed on her lips when she eyed Odessa’s dirty cuffs resting on the tablecloth. “Ya’ll just arrive? Water’s free in this here town if’n you be so inclined.” Her voice lacked warmth and welcome.

  Zach locked gazes with her. “We’ve come a far piece to get here. Our next stop is the hotel to get a room and clean up, but we’re mighty hungry, and I would be most appreciative if you would stop judgin’ my lady friend and get us some grub. My pa always told me staring is rude.”

  At his tone, the woman’s mouth gaped. She squared her shoulders and put pencil lead to paper, purposely avoiding eye contact. “Then, what’ll be.”

  Odessa dipped her chin to hide a smile. Zach redeemed himself for forgetting to pull out her chair.

  * * * *

  After wiping her mouth with her napkin, Odessa tossed the soiled cloth onto her empty plate. She’d relished every bite, even eyed the last yeast roll and considered taking it for later, but she had nowhere to hide it. She leaned back in her chair, patted her full stomach and released a quiet sigh. “I swear that was the best meal I’ve ever eaten.”

  Zach dug in his pocket and pulled out a small wad of bills. He thumbed through them then dug again for a handful of change. He spread the coins on the table and eyed them with a raised brow.

  With a toothpick dangling from the side of his lips, he pushed his dishes aside and leaned in. “We’ve got a problem we need to discuss.”

  She slanted forward in her chair, her palms turning damp at his announcement. “Is it serious?”

  “Depends. If you want a new dress and those bloomers, or whatever, I’ll only have enough money to pay for one room for the next few days. I still have to feed myself and buy your stage ticket to Phoenix, like I promised.”

  Only one room? She nibbled her bottom lip. Papa would spin in his grave…if he finally had one. It wasn’t seemly for a young lady to cohabit with a man unless they were married. But how different was that from traveling alone and sharing many a night under the stars? What choice did she have? Odessa shrugged. “I’m in no position to barter. I’d rather share a room with you than a stall with the horses.”

  Zach snapped his fingers. “I forgot about that. I have to pay to stable the animals, too.” He stuffed the money back in his pocket. “Maybe I should sleep with the animals.”

  “I won’t hear of it. If you pay for a room, then you’ll sleep in it.” Guilt weighed on her. “Maybe I can forgo everything but the dress. I can wash and mend m-my unmentionables.”

  “We’ll see. Let’s mosey over to the desk and see what they’re chargin’ for rooms these days. There’s always a chance I can stretch my money a little farther.”

  She glanced through the doorway and eyed the stern-looking man behind the hotel counter. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather wait here. I’ve already been insulted by the cook or whoever she was, so I’d like to avoid being judged by the hotel clerk.”

  * * * *

  Zach ambled back into the restaurant, his heart heavy. Now that he’d paid for the room, he planned to make sure Odessa got her new dress. She’d hoed a hard row, and he couldn’t bear to see her sad. As he’d already told her, they didn’t know these people, so he’d registered them as man and wife. No one would be the wiser.

  He stood across the table from her and dangled one key. “Sorry, but I had to be practical.”

  “I understand.” Her thin smile did little to bolster his decision. “A man can only do what he can do, and I’m no help at the moment.”

  She emphasized that last part a little too clearly for his liking. He planned to allow her a day to rest, wash up, replace her clothing, then put her on a stage for Phoenix. He had a job to do, and he’d tarried far too long.

  Walking around the table, he pulled out her chair and waited for her to rise. “Our room is on the second floor.” He handed her the key. “If you want to go on up, I’ve already asked that a tub and hot water be sent to the room.”

  “Oh, that sounds wonderful, but…”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have plenty of privacy. My pa didn’t raise a heathen, trust me. ”His gut twisted at his words. His pa didn’t raise an outlaw either, but somewhere in town a man waited to give him directions. For a moment, he wished he had Odessa’s positive outlook about the future. She acted so certain she could find a decent job. Maybe he could.

  “I need to visit the mercantile first. Is it still open?” Her voice cut into his thoughts.

  “Let’s go find out.” Zach opened the door for her and followed, still thinking about his dilemma. Even if he could find a decent job, it wouldn’t pay the money he needed. No matter how positive he tried to look at things, he kept coming back to the same conclusion. Robbing a stage was the only way to save Pa’s land.

  Spying the mercantile down the street, he clasped Odessa’s hand and loped down the wooden stairs and onto the dirt, dashing between a buggy and a buckboard to reach the other side. The sun had set, leaving ribbons of color tinting the sky. A light inside the store shone through the front window. Zach opened the door, peering up at the little bell that tinkled when they entered.

  “Howdy.” A bald man behind the counter greeted them with a smile. “How can I help you?”

  “Are you fixin’ to close or do we have time to shop?” Zach asked.

  “I always stay open for customers. When I lock up depends on the type of day I’m havin’.” The clerk’s portly stomach jiggled with his laughter. “You folks look around all you want. I’ve got some shelves to stock.”

  Zach followed as Odessa made a beeline for a rack of ready-made dresses in a section he preferred to avoid. The tools, ropes, and saddles on the other side of the store beckoned. Tack held more interest than frilly ribbons, bonnets, and lacy undergarments, the likes of which he’d never seen before. He patted her shoulder as she flipped through the hangers, her eyes wider than silver dollars. “I’ll be over yonder.” He motioned across the main aisle.

  “Wait!” She grasped his sleeve. “I need your opinion.” She picked up a blue gingham frock with one hand and a brown and white checked dress with the other. “Which do you like best?”

  He shrugged. “They both look good to me.”

  She put back the brown one and draped the blue across her front, holding out the wide skirt and dancing in a circle. Stopping, she peered up at him with those big, blue eyes and smiled. “I really like this one, and it’s a little less than the other. I only wish I had a ribbon to match.”

  He looked at the tag hanging from the sleeve and raised a brow. He had no previous experience with buying a woman clothes, but the price didn’t seem extreme—in fact, was less than he’d figured. He plunged his hand into his pocket, counted out several bills, and handed them to her. “Go ahead and get a ribbon… and those other things you needed, too. Take your time. I’ll wait outside.” Every time she flashed that coy little grin, the crotch of his jeans grew tighter.

  The dang bell rang again when he opened the door to leave. Outside, he rested his boot on a hitching rail and surveyed the streets, now quiet and abandoned. The horizon had gobbled the sun, and already a full yellow moon shone over the rooftops at the opposite end of the street. Piano music still drifted from the saloon, but most of the horses tied in front earlier were gone. A cool breeze fanned Zach’s collar, but did little to temper his growing feelings for Odessa. He had to get her on the next stage to Phoenix. If he didn’t, he’d compound the trouble he already faced.

  “Good night, and thank you.” Zach turned to see the proprietor escort Odessa to the door then close and lock it behind her. She clasped her wrapped bundles to her chest as if protecting a treasure.

 
The light inside the store faded and turned dark, stealing Zach’s ability to enjoy the sparkle in her eyes. He took her elbow and guided her down the stairs to the street. “Did you get everything you needed?”

  “I did… and thank you. Now I can’t wait to get into that bath.”

  No matter how hard he tried to prevent them, images of her naked body played in his mind. Clearly, she had more of an effect on him than he’d planned. When had he started thinking of her less as a girl and more as a woman? He hadn’t really seen it coming. Now, outlined in the moonlight, her full lips, slender neck, and soft curves begged for attention. He wasn’t as experienced as most men but had learned in the bed of a local saloon whore who knew her trade well. Memories stirred his desire.

  Clinging to his gentlemanly manners, he escorted Odessa to the lobby door and doffed his hat. “I promised you some privacy, so I’m gonna go see to the horses. I’ll be back to the room later.”

  “But wait…” Her voice summoned him back. “Don’t you want to take a bath, too?”

  He widened his eyes, afraid to ask the question that leapt into his mind. Was she proposing he join her?

  “I want results when I fight.” —Frank James

  Chapter Eleven

  “Well?” Odessa cocked her head and stared at him.

  Zach’s heart raced. Did a pig love to wallow in mud? She had his full attention, he just couldn’t believe the question. “Sure, I’d love—”

  “Good. When I pass the desk, I’ll request more hot water for you.” Her response killed any notion he entertained of them sharing a bath.

  Disappointment surged through him, but he forced a smile. “Oh… good idea.”

  If she noticed a change in his demeanor, she didn’t show it. Her gaze wandered to a table in the sitting area. “I see they provide copies of the local paper. While you bathe, I’ll come back down and catch up on the news.” She scurried up the stairs, still clutching her parcels like she’d found a treasure.

  Zach pushed his hat further down on his head and, with slumped shoulders, went back outside. At the hitching post, he untied the horses and led them toward the livery stable at the end of the dimly lit street. If the ride from the stage station had been a longer one, he wouldn’t have left the animals unattended for so long. A good cowboy always saw to his horse first and everything else came later. He reached back and rubbed Storm’s snout. “Forgive me, boy? Hunger got the best of me.”