by Savanna Sage
Stella stood as still as a tree on a windless night, wishing that she was invisible. She didn’t think the dress looked so bad, but since he wasn’t responding with the appreciative eyes or smile of her imagination, she never wanted to wear it again.
Chapter 14
Adam couldn’t tear his eyes away from Stella standing on the porch in a red dress. Carmen must have played fairy godmother, insisting that Stella put on a dress of Carmen’s from when she wasn’t in a family way. Although the hem swung higher above Steel’s brown boots than was fashionable, the transformation was enchanting. In spite of the too-short sleeves, the fitted bodice and nipped in waist made Adam want to put his arm around Stella again. Both arms.
To his surprise, a dark braid circled her head. What kind of magic had Carmen worked?
Stella stood so still, looking at Adam with such wide eyes, that he finally blinked, then tore his gaze from her as if waking from a dream. What must she think of him? To put her at ease, he said the first thing that came to mind. “You’re beautiful.”
Was that the beginning of a smile on her face?
“I’m boo-ti-ful, too,” cried Emilia as she came pounding down the porch, grabbing Stella’s skirt to brake to a halt. Jolted, Stella let out a surprised cry and grabbed the porch railing.
Adam jumped down off the wagon seat and dashed toward her.
“Say it,” Emilia said. “Say I’m boo-ti-ful.”
“You are a beautiful child,” Adam said, putting his hands over Stella’s on the porch railing.
Giggles came at them from both sides of the house as more children gathered to see what was happening. This close, Adam saw the glint of pins holding Stella’s braid in place, but there weren’t enough to keep the short ends from poking out in little straws. In spite of the misbehaving hair, she was transformed into his Cinderella, or rather, the Cabbage Head Princess she preferred.
Something tipped over with a loud bang, and a child started crying.
Letting go of Stella’s hands, Adam climbed the porch steps, pulling the fedora off his head and smiling at Stella. “Since you so admirably regained your balance, do you know of any other princesses who need rescuing?”
Stella blushed, enjoying Adam’s approving scrutiny as Emilia jumped up and down. “I do! Rescue me!”
Adam picked the child up by her waist and hoisted her into the air. ‘And where would you like to go, your Majesty?”
“To the castle,” Princess Emilia said with a breathless laugh.
Adam carried her to the front door. “There you are, my princess.” He turned to see Stella looking at him.
“You look, uh, better.”
He gave a short laugh. “I look like a troll who lives under a bridge and only comes out at night, or else to confront smelly goats.”
Stella’s eyes widened. “You know the story of the Three Billy Goats Gruff?”
“I heard it in school on one of the days I was there,” Adam explained. “I never forgot it.
“Steel?” Carmen called. “Who is it?”
Stella opened the door and walked in with Adam and an assortment of children.
“Uh, Mrs. DeSoto, I brought some lumber to start building a bathroom for you.”
Carmen came in from the other room. A child who looked too big to be carried was hoisted up onto her hip, the tear streaked face turned into her neck. “You serious?” she asked, her eyes bright.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I can not pay you.”
“It’s alright,” Adam said. “I’ll do it to pay for Stella’s keep.”
“Stella?” Carmen glanced at Stella.
“I mean Steel,” Adam said, putting his hand up, palm toward Carmen as if to stop her from realizing what he’d just said.
Carmen glanced from Stella to Adam and back again, then nodded. “If you are sure.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Adam replied, but his gaze was on Stella, seeking forgiveness for his slip of the tongue.
“I will show you where the kitchen pipes come in the house,” Carmen said, giving her child a boost. “I will meet you out back.”
Stella bit her lips together. She could trust Carmen, but what about the children? Had they overheard? Would they tell other people, who would tell other people, until it got back to Uncle Owen? But he was miles and miles away.
It didn’t matter now. Nothing could be done about it.
“I’m sorry,” Adam murmured. “I think it’s that pretty dress. You just don’t look like anyone named Steel.”
“I’ll go back to the trousers after they’re washed,” Stella said. “Just remember to call me Steel from now on.”
Adam nodded, then ducked outside. Stella followed him. “Can I help?”
“Might be too heavy.”
“Adam?” they both turned to see Paul striding up to the house, folding a newspaper and tucking it under his arm. “What are you doing?”
“Building a bathroom on your house, sir.”
“I can’t pay for that. It’s more than your wages.”
“It’s for Stel… Steel living here,” Adam said. “For her room and board, her food and anything that might cost you for her being here.”
Paul looked from Adam to Stella and back again. “I’m not sure if even that’s enough for all the food she spoils.”
“I’ll do better,” Stella promised. “I’ll even clean instead of cooking, if that would make things right.”
“Why would you do this for Steel?” Paul asked.
After a pause, Adam answered, “Because I care about her, sir.”
“Oh.” Paul still looked thoughtful. “I’m not promising anything. Are you determined to build on this bathroom, whether Stella stays or not?” he sounded hopeful.
“As long as she is here, sir.”
“Well, then, I think I can spare enough time to help you unload.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Paul replied. “This will be a real help for Carmen.” He glanced at the curious children gathering on the porch, then added, “as long as everyone doesn’t try to use it at once.”
More DeSoto children gathered from various corners of the house and yard, bringing their friends along as lumber piled higher on the ground beside the kitchen.
“That gonna make our house stinky?” Emilia asked, giving her trousers an upward tug.
“It’s only stinky if you don’t flush,” Adam explained.
“Yeah, only if you don’t flush, stinky face,” one of her little brothers said.
“Hey, I’m the only one around here with a stinky face,” Adam said, touching the scab on his brow. “Your bathroom will be as nice as the ones in the train station.”
When the boy gave him a puzzled look, Adam asked, “You’ve never been there?’
“Nope,” said the little fellow. “We just pee in the weeds.”
“Children, give Mr. Adam room to work,” Carmen said. The older children talked in excited voices about having a bathroom stuck right on the side of the house, while the younger ones climbed over the wood until their father shooed them away, his newspaper forgotten on the ground.
A desert breeze caught hold of the pages, fluttering them like the wings of the seven swan brothers. When the breeze flew onward, the pages settled back down, open to a picture of Stella Brasher staring out from the top of the third page, along with the words, “Have you seen this young lady?” An address was provided, along with the promise of reimbursement for a telegraphed notification of her whereabouts, as well as a financial reward for information leading to her return to her loving uncle.
Chapter 15
“Why you doing this?” Spud asked as Adam hammered a nail into the framed wall.
“I like Steel.”
Spud thrust his hands out. “So marry her already. We’ve got to get a move-on.”
“I don’t know if she wants to.”
Spud slapped his forehead. “Ask her!”
“The thing is, I don’t have enough money to supp
ort a wife.”
“Because you spend it all building bathrooms for other people,” Spud exclaimed. “If you could just step back and see yourself...”
“What’s this?” one of the DeSoto girls called, holding up two sticks crossed in the middle.
Adam glanced up at the stick symbol. “X.”
Laughing, the girl glanced at two of her brothers watching her alphabet game as she moved the sticks to a different configuration.
“T.”
“Right!” When she moved her hands again, one of her brothers lifted a short stick into place.
Adam studied the crude representation for a just a moment, then answered, “F.”
“What are you doing?” Spud asked,
“When they found out Steel’s helping me learn to read, they decided to help, too.”
Spud shook his head. “You’ve gone mad, Adam. The Salt Lake Smasher reading stick symbols. It ain’t natural.”
In spite of Spud’s daily warnings against the irate manager, Adam worked on the bathroom steadily for the next two days. Paul made time to help, taking breaks to give Stella disapproving glances and corrections. With Paul's presence Stella's awkwardness increased, but Carmen never complained.
Spud came back with news. “Time for your next fight.”
“Has it been a week already?”
“Ain’t you been listenin’? It ain’t the first time I told you.”
“The days are blending together.”
“You ain’t gettin’ soft on me now, are you?” Spud asked.
“No. I’m ready to fight.” Adam didn’t tell Spud that he was running low on money for building supplies. “Who is it?”
“Calls himself Midnight Masher.” Spud gave Adam a humorless smile. “Goes with the Salt Lake Smasher, don’t it? We could make up bills with rhymes. High falutin’ types like their poetry, so that ought to bring ‘em in.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s see now… In dark of night, the Midnight Masher falls to the Salt Lake Smasher. Uh, lesse, won’t be time for any laughter, uh, wonder who will clean up after?”
“Don’t go writing that down,” Adam said. “We won’t get any bets.”
“I’ve got the fight set for tonight,” Spud said, idly reaching down to pick up a nail and hand it to Adam. “You might want to get there early, because the Midnight Masher is likely to blend in with the night.”
“Got black skin, has he?”
Spud grinned and handed Adam another nail. “As midnight.”
Chapter 16
Stella put on her boy’s clothes to go to town, thoughts of Uncle Owen still making her wary. She was carrying a message from Carmen to the general store keeper. If Paul didn’t like anything else about her, she was determined that he would admire her trustworthiness.
In the week she’d been in Santa Fe, Stella hadn’t been any further than the train station, so she had to guess the way to the general store. Carmen had told her, but with all the children talking at the same time, Stella had only gotten half the information.
She was passing the hotel when a young man lurched out of the door onto the boardwalk directly in front of her, nearly tripping her with one of the sticks he leaned on for support.
“Whoa!” he said at the same time Stella let out a startled scream. “I’m sorry, sir, I tend to lose my balance on these things.”
Stella’s startled gaze turned to the face that belonged to the familiar voice. Her green eyes widened in recognition at the same time her cousin Franklin’s eyes grew round in astonishment. “Stella?” he asked. His gaze ran down her trousered legs and back up to her face, scanning her short hair with an incredulous smile. “Why are you wearing my clothes?”
“Franklin!” Stella cried, and flung her arms around him, which made him totter again.
“Ow!” he cried.
“What?” Stella asked, pulling away with a frown.
“I got a beating a few nights ago.”
“Sorry.” Stella looked more closely at the bruises on Franklin’s face, which were changing color much the same as Adam’s. “Why?” she asked, her temper flaring at the thought of anyone beating up Franklin. “Who did it?”
“Can we go somewhere and sit down?” he asked.
They located a bench set back under the wide porch roof of the hotel. Franklin leaned in close, “You can’t tell anyone, because boxing is illegal in New Mexican territory.”
“You mean you let someone hit you on purpose?” Stella asked, aghast.
“Yes, and I hit him, too,” Franklin said.
“But why?”
“The winner gets money.”
“How can you get money for hitting someone?”
“People place bets. The winner gets a large share, then those who bet on the winner split the remaining money from the losing betters.”
“So people can lose money over watching men punch each other?”
“Well, yeah.”
“That’s stupid.”
Franklin shrugged, then winced. “It makes money.”
“Did you win this fight?”
“No, but I’ll win the next one,” Franklin tapped one of his sticks against the porch. “I’ve got to win it, or I’ll be clear out of money.”
The hotel door opened, and two men walked outside, one so tall he emphasized the short stature of his companion. They stopped to glance both ways along the street, their Asian eyes narrowed against sunlight beneath the brims of their derby hats. When they turned and walked away, their Chinese features were masked by their western style coats and trousers.
“That’s the one I’m going to fight next,” Franklin said, waving a stick toward the pair.
“The short one?” Stella guessed, hoping.
“No. The tall one. The Emperor.”
Stella shuddered. “But, Franklin, what about your limbs? Will you walk again? I mean, without the sticks?”
“Doc says I should be fine in a couple of weeks.”
Stella sighed. “How did you sink to this point, Franklin? You used to be such a… a studious boy, and now you’re getting punched all to pieces.”
“I didn’t want to be around my father anymore,” Franklin said. “He never hit me, he just tried to force me to do everything he wanted. He wouldn’t let me choose my own course. There was Mama, too. You may have guessed by now that she’s left Father for good. She hasn’t gotten a divorce, she’ll leave that for him to do if he wants it, but when she decided to get out from under his rule, I went along to make sure she was taken care of.”
“Where is she?”
“Making baked goods in Kansas City.”
“She’s good at that.”
“It provides for her needs, and she is close to Delphia. Once she was established, I got restless. Then I discovered that there’s not much else a boy of my age to do that pays better than fighting.” He gave Stella a puffy lipped grin. “It seems that its illegal nature is a powerful attractant. It adds to the element of danger, and satisfies me in an odd way, too. If I’m wallowing in a dungheap of old memories, I imagine I’m fighting my father.” Franklin grinned and clenched his fists.
Stella had never seen this side of her cousin, who seemed the type to become an organic chemist, or the manager of an aviary. “Who did you fight that put you on crutches?”
“The Salt Lake Smasher.”
Stella blinked. “The Salt Lake Smasher?”
“Yeah. My manager is all up in arms about him cheating.”
Stella’s heart thudded hard, thinking of Adam punching her cousin in the face, hurting him badly enough that he had to walk with sticks. She didn’t like the image. What did she really know about Adam? Only the side he was willing to show her, not this part of himself that he kept hidden. “Did he cheat?”
“It depends on who you’re asking. Some say there are no rules, others say no hitting below the belt or attacking a man on the ground. If you don’t establish it at the outset, a fighter fights the way he was taught.”
“Do you think he che
ated?”
“I think he landed some lucky blows in the dark. It’s hard to see fighting at night, Stella. He just has a different fighting style than the Waxwing Wonder.”
Stella couldn’t hide her smile. Adam may have hurt him, but he hadn’t killed him, and Franklin was a willing opponent. “So you still like birds?”
“Of course. I’m the fierce one that chases bigger predators away from the nest.” Stella nodded, and Franklin gave her clothes another glance. “You don’t pass well for a man.”
“That has already come to my attention,” Stella said. “Yet I feel better wearing these old clothes of yours in case your father comes looking for me.”
“Why would he?”
Stella told him. Franklin shook his head in regret at the mention of her father’s death, and laughed at how she’d managed to escape from his room. “They look better on you than they ever did on me,” he said. “Does there happen to still be a carving of a bird in the pocket?” Stella put her hand in, and it came out empty. “I didn’t think so.”
“Carmen washed them for me. She even took a dart in the waist so they fit better.” Stella explained her living arrangements. “I’ve got a roof, at least for now, but Paul DeSoto doesn't like me much.”
“Well, I can look after you.”
Stella gave him a mischievous grin. “On sticks?”
“They’re just temporary.”
“And how will you look after me?”
“Well, I suppose if you stayed dressed like that, you could be a corner man during my fights.”
“I wouldn’t stay in a corner while someone punched you, Franklin. I’d come out punching, too.”
“You couldn’t!” Franklin said. “I wouldn’t allow it. Besides, when I get enough money, I’m quitting this business.”
“To do what?”
Franklin leaned back and lifted his gaze to the sky. “Photograph birds.”
Astonished, Stella asked, “Real, live, flying birds?”
“They would have to hold still, or the picture would be blurry. I may have to stuff them first, but it would be wonderful to take live shots. However I do it, once the pictures are developed, I’ll color them to make the birds look real.”