Boone Creek

by Graysen Morgen

  “Very nice,” Ike said with a nod. “We can fix this,” he added, looking at the waist. He grabbed a set of black suspenders. “These sleeves are a mess, though. Here, try a pair of these,” he suggested, handing her a set of bright red garter belts. Most card dealers and bar keeps wore them to keep their long, puffy sleeves at bay while working, as well as business men who had issues with their sleeves.

  “Can I have the black ones?”

  “Sure,” he said, handing her a different pair.

  Jessie slid the garter’s over her wrists and up to her upper arms. They seemed to hold the bulk of the baggy sleeves in place. Then, she put the suspenders over the front buttons on the waist band of her pants, as well as the back ones, and pulled them up over her shoulders.

  “Step up here,” Ike said, pointing to a small, wooden box. When Jessie obliged, he adjusted her suspenders from behind, pulling her pants up slightly, and holding them where they needed to be. As soon as he finished, he walked over to a stack of vests and began thumbing through them, obviously searching for something close to her size. “Do you have a color in mind?”

  “Black,” she replied, still standing on the box.

  “Everything black?” he asked, looking back over his shoulder.

  “Yes.”

  “All right, give this one a try,” he replied, handing her a black, single-breasted vest with a notched collar. It had four pockets: two upper, and two lower, with five buttons down the middle. The bottom was square-off, whereas most vests had a V-shaped bottom. “I also have it with buttons that are made of tin, which would match that silver badge of yours pretty good.”

  “Black is fine,” she said, putting on the vest.

  Ike pulled the strings in the back, making the vest form around her meager bust, as he tied them tightly. It was a little big in the shoulders, but otherwise fit okay.

  “I also have this one in burgundy, but I have a similar style and fit in silk, which comes in several colors…in case you want a different look, perhaps for an evening at the theatre.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. What about a coat?”

  “Before we get to the coats, which I only have two that will come even close to fitting you, what about a tie? I have puff ties, narrow neck ties, wide neck ties, and bow ties.” He pointed to the table with an array of tie styles and colors.

  Jessie held them up, one by one, and chose a black, narrow neck tie. “This will do.”

  He showed her how to work the clasp, then helped her get it in place even with her collar and tucked under the top opening of the vest. “This here is a town coat, made of the same material as the trousers you have on. I have a few other styles,” he said, handing her the coat. “But I think you’d be happier with this one. It sits just below the waist, to about where the fingers fall at your sides.”

  Jessie pulled on the black coat, buttoning the two tin buttons in the middle. The collar was also notched, similar to the vest she had on, and it had a deep pocket on each side.

  “How about a new hat?” Ike asked, looking at the old, ratty one on her head. “I have this one here, it’s a gambler-style, made of black rabbit fur.”

  “It looks like a low top hat with a rolled brim,” she replied.

  He shrugged. “Give it a try.”

  Jessie removed her old hat, causing her hair to fall down over her ears on the sides. It was slightly shorter in the back. She caught the odd expression on Ike’s face as she slid the new hat on. “I’m headed to the barber after this,” she mumbled.

  He simply nodded. “What do you think?”

  Jessie had never been so dressed up, not counting the times her mother had made her wear a dressing skirt, complete with a bustle, corset, and six petticoats, all of which she completely hated wearing, and swore off. She felt very different.

  “Take a look over here,” Ike called, turning a thin mirror around.

  Jessie was taken aback. She looked like a new person. New life, she thought.

  “You’re starting to look like a town marshal, now.” He smiled.

  Jessie Henry, Town Marshal. She shook her head, wondering if it was a dream or a nightmare.

  “Well, what do you think? In my personal opinion, I think it suits you.”

  “Which part?”

  “Well…all of it, of course. We can’t have our new marshal looking like a frontier cattleman, now can we?”

  “I suppose not. How much is all of this going to cost me?”

  “How about we make a deal? You can borrow what you have on since it barely fits, and I’ll get to work on a new suit using your custom measurements. We’ll talk prices when the new suit is ready, and I know…all black,” he said, holding his hand up. “For now, let’s call it even at two and half eagles.”

  Jessie put her old boots back on, happy to have something that felt like her. Then, she reached into the pockets of her old clothing, removing all of her personal items, including the money Mayor Montgomery had given her. “Here you go,” she said, handing him three gold coins worth $25.

  “Your new suit will be ready in about two weeks. Where should I send notice?”

  “I’ll be staying at Miss Mable’s, but I don’t have a room number yet. I’ll just check back with you.”

  “What about the Marshal’s Office? I could send your message there.”

  “Sure. That’ll be fine.”

  “Well then, good luck, Marshal…”

  “Henry. Jessie Henry.”

  “Marshal Henry.” He nodded, sticking his hand out. “Good luck to you.”

  FOUR

  The barber shop was located at the corner of Main Street Curve, next to the General Trade store. A wooden sign hung above the door with Fray General Trade neatly painted across it. A woman stood inside, sweeping the street dust from the wooden floor. She wore a dark-blue, twill, walking-skirt, and a white and blue, paisley shirt with a high collar and long, puffy sleeves. Her light-brown hair was tied up in a bun, near the center of the back of her head. The few loose tendrils that hung down were tucked behind her ear.

  Jessie slowed her pace, watching the woman through the panned windows and open doorway as she passed by. Pulling her eyes away from the beautiful sight, she tugged her hat brim lower, and kept walking.

  “Good afternoon,” a man said, finishing up with a customer as she entered the barber shop. He was dressed similar to her, but in a green vest, and without a coat. His tie was a black, string bow-tie. He wore a white apron that covered his front from about mid chest, down to his thighs. His hair was balding on top, but the few tresses he did have up there were combed over with wax to keep them place, and he had thick muttonchops that went all the way to his chin.

  Jessie tipped her hat and looked around the small room. A large front window filled the space with sunlight. A single chair sat in the middle, and a table full of hair cutting and shaving tools was next to it.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked, sweeping the hair trimmings out of the chair after his customer left.

  “I need a haircut,” she said, removing her hat.

  “I see,” he mumbled, nodding his head up and down at the realization she was a woman…with short hair no less, and dressed in a man’s suit. “Well…have a seat and let’s see what we can do.”

  “I’d like it shorter, trimmed neat around my ears and the back of my neck,” she informed.

  Most men wore their hair around collar length, or at least touching their collar, some slightly longer.

  “Okay.” He nodded, seemingly studying her hair before placing a drape over her to collect the clippings. “What’s your name?”

  “Jessie. Jessie Henry.”

  “Well, Jessie Henry, I’m Joe. Most people call me Muddy Joe, on account there’s always a mud puddle in front of my shop when it rains.” He smiled, putting some oil on his hands to lather in her hair, making it easier for his scissors to cut it. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?”

 
“Yes.”

  “Where are you from?” he asked, combing her hair at the crown.

  “The south.”

  “What brought you to Boone Creek?” he continued, trimming one side, then moving to the other.

  “The Santa Fe Line, and an old mare,” she replied.

  He looked at her with an odd expression. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

  “Nope,” she said flatly.

  “Fair enough.” He shrugged, finishing the last few clippings. “What do you think?” he asked, handing her a small mirror.

  Jessie was stunned. The person staring back at her looked nothing like her former self. She was still quite nervous about accepting the town marshal job, since law and order wasn’t exactly a friend of hers. However, with the new town, came the new job, and subsequently, the new look. Albeit, a look she could get used to. The corner of her mouth turned up in a slight smile. She’d succeeded in her plan to start her life over, and it had been less than 24hrs. “Works for me,” she said, handing him the mirror and placing her hat back on her head.

  “That’ll be half a trade dollar,” he said.

  Jessie swung the side of her coat back to reach into her upper, left vest pocket, and revealed her silver badge.

  Muddy Joe nearly dropped the broom he was using to sweep up the blonde hair clippings. “You’re going to have to learn to talk more, Marshal Henry. The people of this town aren’t going to leave you alone once they get a look at you.”

  “Why is that?” she asked.

  “Pretty much everyone knows we have a new marshal, but the rumor going around is you’re a man from back east somewhere.”

  “Incorrect on both accounts,” she sighed, handing him two silver quarter-dollar coins to cover her haircut.

  ***

  Jessie noticed a young man standing outside of the Marshal’s Office, when she stepped out of the barber shop. He was about her height, with a brown mustache and goatee. He had on a similar suit, with a slightly different tie and a round topped, bowler-style hat. Her reminded her of a salesman.

  “You must be Bert,” she said, walking towards him.

  The young man nodded, tipping his hat. His brown eyes opened wider as she stepped up onto the wooden sidewalk.

  “Ah, I figured you two would finally run into each other,” Mayor Montgomery said, walking towards them from the other direction. “Bert, this is Jessie Henry, the new Town Marshal. Jessie, this is your Deputy Marshal, Bert Boleyn.”

  Jessie shook Bert’s hand when he offered it.

  “I wouldn’t cross her if I were you. I’ve seen her shoot,” the mayor joked. “Come on, let’s go get your room set up. That’s a nice suit, by the way. Ike knows his stuff,” he said, walking away with Jessie.

  “It’s different,” she replied, still getting used to the suit and the stares that came with her new position. “Does everyone in town know who I am?”

  “Yep. Word spreads like wildfire around here. Boone Creek’s a small town. You break wind and someone on the other end of town is going to know whether or not it smells.”

  Jessie nodded.

  “Now, whether or not the story is the truth when it gets back to you…well…I wouldn’t believe everything I’ve heard.” They rounded Main Street Curve, heading towards the mayor’s office. “This is the schoolhouse here on the left, and the church is next to it. I’m sure you’ll meet Pastor Noah. He’s the preacher.” As they passed by the larger building, housing the mayor’s office, he pointed out the livery stable and corral, which was slightly behind the marshal’s building, and directly behind the supply depot and stage coach stop. “Where did you say you were from?” he asked, leading her past a residential section of town, and back towards Center Street.

  “I didn’t,” she replied, studying her surroundings, and mentally mapping out the town. “The south,” she added when the mayor glanced at her, obviously waiting for an answer.

  He didn’t push as he continued walking. “This is Six Gun Alley, named for all of the gun fights that have taken place here since the town was formed.”

  Jessie looked around. It looked like a mini town within a town, with the brothel on one side of the pathway, and the back of the saloon and bath house on the other.

  “That building at the very end down there is the back of Doc Vernon’s office. These small adobes along the side, just past Miss Mable’s, are residential. Some have the owners living in them, but most are rented out,” he informed, pulling open the door to the two story brothel. “Miss Mable, you around?” he called.

  “Mayor Montgomery, I’m always available for you,” she replied with a touch of mischief in her voice.

  He cleared his throat and removed his hat. “This is our new Town Marshal, Jessie Henry. I was hoping you had a boarding room available, payable by the town, of course.”

  “Well…” she drawled, looking Jessie up and down.

  Jessie quickly removed her hat out of politeness, something she wasn’t used to doing. “Ma’am,” she said, tipping her head.

  Miss Mable looked into Jessie’s bright green eyes. “I’m sure we can accommodate you. That is, if you don’t mind living with a bunch of girls.”

  “No, ma’am. I think I’ll be fine.” The corner of her mouth turned up slightly. “Sixth door on the left, up the stairs,” she said, then called, “Lita!”

  A beautiful woman appeared from around the corner. Her olive skin, dark hair, dark eyes, and bright red lips reminded Jessie of the women she knew from her travels in Mexico.

  “Lita, this is Marshal Henry. She’s going to be renting room eleven. Please show her to her accommodations and assist her with anything she may need,” Miss Mable said.

  “My pleasure.” She turned to Jessie and held her hand out. “Marshal, if you’ll come with me, please.”

  Jessie tried not to stare at the ample bosom pushed up by the tight, purple corset, and bodice with white lace trim. Lita’s ruffled skirt was cinched up on both sides, revealing the bare skin of her lower thighs and knee high, black silk stockings, which were held up by lacy black garters, similar to the satin ones Jessie wore to hold her puffy sleeves back.

  “We’ve never had a woman here. As the town marshal, I mean,” Lita uttered, grinning when she caught Jessie looking at her legs.

  “You’ve probably never had one either…as a boarder, I mean,” Jessie replied.

  Lita pursed her lips and raised a brow, showing a bit of the Mexican sassiness Jessie was accustomed to. “Quieres que te muestre? Want me to show you? she mumbled in Spanish.

  “Quizás la próxima vez. Maybe next time,” Jessie replied in the same language, taking her by surprise.

  “You must be well traveled, Marshal.”

  “Something like that,” Jessie replied.

  Lita moved closer and reached up, removing Jessie’s hat. “Miss Mable doesn’t allow hats to be worn inside,” she teased, placing her hand against Jessie’s chest as she handed it to her.

  Jessie hadn’t even realized she’d put it back on when they’d walked up the stairs. She grabbed the hat as Lita let go of it, brushing her bosom and bare arm against her when she turned to open the door to the room.

  Jessie looked around at the small, sparsely decorated room. A double bed sat against one wall. A tiny nightstand was next to it with an oil lamp sitting on top of it. A chamber pot was under the bed, and a mismatched dresser with three slender drawers was on the opposite side of the room. A small washing tub sat in the corner. The square, panned window had a meager view of Six Gun Alley.

  “We usually don’t lock the doors around here, but since you’re a boarder, you get a key,” Lita said, running her hand over Jessie’s as she handed her the key. “The front door doesn’t lock, so you can come and go on your own. The General Trade should have anything you might need. Miss Mable has water brought in for the washing tubs and bowls on Mondays only. You’ll need to leave the door unlocked if you want fresh water.”

>   Jessie nodded.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?” Lita asked, taking in a deep breath to push her corseted breasts up higher.

  “No. I should probably get back down to the mayor.”

  “He’s probably still visiting with Miss Mable.”

  “Well, I have work to do. Please, don’t let me keep you from…your work,” Jessie said, hearing the bell ding at the front door.

  Lita eyed her up and down, smirking when their eyes met. Jessie shook her head as she watched her walk out of the room. Getting involved with a harlot was the last thing she needed at the moment.

  FIVE

  Jessie made her way back through town, looking for Bert. The woman she’d seen earlier that day inside the General Trade store was once again sweeping the floor, but this time she was in the doorway, pushing the street dust back outside. Jessie stopped walking.

  “You going to come inside, or just stare through the windows all day?” the woman asked, holding her broom still.

  Jessie raised a brow and rested her hands on the front of her gun belt. “Are you talking to me?”

  “Don’t see anyone else stopping in the street to look through the windows,” the woman said.

  Jessie noted the sarcasm in her voice. She did need to pick up some essentials since she’d pretty much rode into town with nothing except her old, worn clothing. As she moved closer to the doorway, Jessie noticed the woman was alone. Proper women were almost never left alone, especially not to work a store. She removed her hat and stepped inside.

  “What can I do for you, Marshal?” the woman asked, hearing footsteps on the wooden floor as she walked away from the doorway.

  “How did you know it was me?” Jessie asked.

  The woman turned around, dropping the broom as her eyes met the bright green ones looking back at her. The loud SMACK of the handle hitting the floor shook the fuzz from her brain. “I…” she started, slightly speechless. She couldn’t take her eyes off the intriguing woman standing in front of her. She’d heard the new Town Marshal was a woman, but she’d never seen a woman in a man’s suit, nor had she ever seen a woman with short hair. The skin of her face looked as soft as her own, or any other woman she’d ever met, for that matter, but there was something edgy, almost daring about her.