Long Road to Cheyenne (22 page)

“I think Mr. Proctor got hold of her when he saw all that gold she had,” Smiley said. “He’s a smooth talker, Garland Proctor is. He said she decided to invest her money here in Cheyenne, ’cause she sees a lot more opportunity here than that other town she was thinkin’ about.”

“Fort Collins,” Cam supplied.

“Yeah, I reckon. Mr. Proctor said she was thinkin’ on buildin’ a nice roomin’ house with a dining room.”

Cam was stunned. He had to give himself a few moments to grasp all that had happened in such a short amount of time. It was the last thing he would have expected to happen. All she had talked about was getting back to Fort Collins where she at least knew a few people. After he thought about it for a few minutes, he shrugged and decided it really didn’t matter where she decided to light. He just hoped she would be happy here, and the girls would like it. Ardella, he wasn’t worried about. She was one soul who could adapt to living in hell itself. Further conversation on the subject was interrupted when the door to the back room opened and several of the ranchers attending the meeting walked out.

“Well, I reckon the meetin’s over,” Smiley commented. “That’s the feller you were askin’ about, Jim Pylant.”

Cam looked up to see a tall, lean man, with a neatly trimmed brown mustache and wavy brown hair. He paused just outside the back room door to carefully settle his flat-crowned hat upon his head so that the brim was just above his eyebrows. Then, spotting Smiley sitting at the table, he walked over to speak to him. “Well,” Smiley greeted him, “I didn’t hear no firearms goin’ off. Did all you ranch owners agree not to shoot each other?”

“Nobody got shot,” Pylant replied. “I don’t know if we accomplished anything or not.”

“I got some new horses I just bought,” Smiley said. “One of ’em looks like a Morgan, the kind them army officers like to ride. You oughta take a look at ’em before you leave town.”

Cam cocked a suspicious eye at Smiley. He had a feeling that he had just been skunked by the stable owner. He started to get mad but then decided it was kind of amusing.
Hell, I got what I wanted for them,
he thought.
Maybe the joke’s on Pylant
,
if he ends up buying them. He could have gotten them a hell of a lot cheaper if he’d bought them from me
.

“Who’s your friend, Smiley?” Pylant asked, smiling at Cam.

“This here is . . .” He glanced down at the name Cam had signed on the bill of sale. “. . . Cam Sutton. He just brought in the horses the new lady in town was totin’ her gold dust on.”

“Oh, Mrs. Bishop,” Pylant said. “I met her and Mrs. Swift in the hotel dining room last night. They’d just gotten off the stage.” He offered his hand to Cam. “You must be the fellow who guided them through some pretty hazardous times.”

“I brought ’em as far as Chugwater,” Cam replied modestly. “She decided to take the stage on in.”

“I think Garland Proctor and I talked her into staying right here in Cheyenne,” Pylant said. “She’s a fine woman. I think she’ll do well here. I’ve volunteered my services to help her get her boardinghouse built at a fair cost.”

“I reckon she was lucky to run into you,” Cam said, still a bit overwhelmed by how much had been accomplished in such a whirlwind fashion.

“I’m supposed to have a meeting with her in the morning at the bank,” Pylant said. “I told her I’d stay in town a couple of days to help her line up a couple of good carpenters. Does she know you’re in town?”

“No,” Cam replied. “Fact of the matter is, I wasn’t plannin’ on comin’ to Cheyenne, but I changed my mind ’cause I figured I had a better chance to sell some horses here.” He glanced over at Smiley and said, “But I decided to give ’em away instead.”

“Somebody should have warned you about dealing with Smiley,” Pylant said, and punctuated his comment with a chuckle. “Like I said, I’ll see Mrs. Bishop in the morning. I’ll tell her you’re in town.”

“Thanks just the same, but there’s no need to bother,” Cam insisted. “Sounds like she’s fixin’ to be plenty busy, and we wound up our business back at Chugwater Station, anyway.”

“All right, then,” Pylant said, signaling a conclusion to the conversation. “Glad to make your acquaintance, Cam. Smiley, I’ll stop by the stable sometime before supper and take a look at those horses you stole from Cam.” He left them with a broad smile on his handsome face.

“That’s the man that’ll probably be runnin’ this town before long,” Smiley commented as they watched Jim Pylant moving toward the door, with a wave for the bartender as he went out. “He’s done more than anybody else to draw decent folks to Cheyenne, just like he done with that Bishop lady. Hell, if she’s got money to invest in a town, it might as well be our town.”

Cam still had his eyes on the swinging doors after Pylant had disappeared. “Is Pylant a family man?” he asked.

“Yes and no,” Smiley answered. “His mama and daddy live with him out at his ranch, but he ain’t married, if that’s what you mean.”

Cam didn’t comment, but for some reason he couldn’t explain, that information disturbed him. His rational mind immediately asked the question
Why do I care, one way or the other?
Still, he couldn’t help forming a picture of the handsome and smooth-talking rancher dazzling Mary, and it bothered him. He was beginning to regret coming to Cheyenne, instead of heading back north. “What?” he said when he realized that Smiley had asked him something.

“I said, do you want another glass of beer?” Smiley repeated.

“No, reckon not. I gotta go over to the store and buy me a shirt and some things.” He pushed his chair back from the table and got to his feet. “I reckon I’m buyin’ the drinks, since I’m the one that sold the horses.”

“Well, now, I hoped you’d say that,” Smiley laughed. “I ’preciate it. It was a pleasure doin’ business with you.”

“I’m just payin’ for the drinks you’ve got on the table,” Cam said. “Anythin’ after that, you’re on your own.”

Smiley laughed again. “Fair enough. Like I said, pleasure doin’ business with you. Tell you what, I won’t charge you nothin’ for boardin’ your horses. How’s that?”

“That’ll help a little. Thanks.” He stopped by the bar and paid the tab, then went out the door.

•   •   •

“Yes, sir,” Ed Jervey greeted the tall young man when he walked into the store. “What can I help you with?”

“I need a new shirt,” Cam said. “This one’s a mite loose, and it’s picked up some stains that won’t come out.”

“It does look like you musta lost a lot of weight,” Jervey said.

“I ain’t lost any weight,” Cam explained, “it’s just that the shirt’s too damn big.” He was still wearing the shirt that Ardella had given him.
Long Sam Swift must have been as big as Ardella boasted,
he thought.

“Well, I can fit you with a nice hundred percent cotton shirt, or a wool one,” Jervey said. When Cam said he preferred cotton, Jervey brought out several from his shelves. “This one here is the latest thing out. It’s got a pocket on it.”

Cam looked at it but couldn’t see a need for a pocket. “I reckon I’ll take that blue one without the pocket,” he said. “I got pockets in my vest. That’s what I wear a vest for.”

“Right you are,” Ed Jervey remarked. “Just thought I’d show it to you, because it’s different. I doubt it’ll catch on. How ’bout britches? You need a pair? I’ve got some nice wool britches, but I’ve also got some denim pants most of you cowboys like, from Levi Strauss.”

Cam ended up buying two shirts and a pair of Levi britches after trying them on. He liked them so well that he kept them on and told Jervey to throw his old pants away. Jervey pointed out that the old ones had a bullet hole in one leg, anyway. He outfitted himself in new underwear and socks, and on a last impulse, he took a good look at his red bandanna as he was about to tie it on. “This thing’s about ready to go, too. How ’bout a blue one to go with my new shirt?” Feeling like a new man, after spending close to fifteen dollars, he went back to the hotel to leave his spare shirt and order up his hot bath. After checking the pot under the bed to make sure his gold dust had not been disturbed, he walked down to the bathhouse.

He took a long time to soak in the tub. For a man who had never had a bath in anything but a river or creek, the tub bath seemed luxurious, and whenever the water began to chill, he rang the bell sitting beside him on a table, and a young boy brought in another bucket of hot water. It was decidedly different from the last bath he had taken, mostly by accident, when he had stumbled upon Mary’s gold sacks in the creek. Finally, when the tub threatened to overflow, he reached for the towel.
If I sit in here much longer, I’m liable to shrivel up to nothing,
he thought. “That oughta hold me for a while,” he commented to the boy who had brought the hot water. Then, feeling his new prosperity, he reached in his pocket and pulled out fifty cents for the boy.

Back in his room again, he took another look at his new clothes in the mirror. There was one more thing that he had never done before, a shave and a haircut from a real barber. It was a waste of money, he told himself.
But dammit, I’m gonna remember this day, July 13, 1878, as the one day I treated myself like a highfalutin gentleman
. So he went to the barbershop.

He was seated in the hotel dining room shortly after it opened for supper, almost finished with a plate of some kind of stew, which contained chunks of meat that he could not readily identify. But the taste was all right, so he cleaned his plate and pushed back a little from the table to give his stomach room to work on the meat while he had another cup of coffee.

He heard her walk into the room before he heard the voice. “My Lord in heaven,” Ardella exclaimed. “Is that you?”

Turning around, he was surprised to see her. “Ardella, looks like you made it all right,” he said, grinning at her reaction to his cleaned-up appearance.

“Cam,” she gushed, “what are you doin’ here? We thought you was headin’ north.”

“I thought I was, too,” he replied, “but I couldn’t sell the horses back in Chugwater.” He went on to tell her how he wound up there in the hotel. “I didn’t expect you and Mary to be here.” He didn’t tell her that he had learned earlier that they were still in Cheyenne, or that the main reason he was eating so early was to avoid an awkward meeting like this one.

“I didn’t expect to be here myself, but the banker and this other man grabbed hold of Mary as soon as they saw how rich she is. Got to tellin’ her how much bigger Cheyenne is than Fort Collins, and how much the town is growin’. Before she knew it, she was agreein’ with ’em, and here we are, gonna build a fine new boardin’house right here.” She paused then and took a step back to admire him. “I swear, you fixed yourself up somethin’ fancy, and you smell to high heaven, like a big ol’ flower blossom.”

“I can’t help that,” Cam said, thoroughly embarrassed. “I didn’t get a chance to stop that barber before he sloshed about a bucket of that stink on me.”

She chuckled delightedly, enjoying his embarrassment. “Now you’re startin’ to turn red, just like a rose.” She pulled a chair out and sat down. While she waited for her supper to arrive, she told him all that had happened since they said good-bye to him at Chugwater. “Mary and the girls weren’t ready to come to supper yet, so I came on by myself. You know me, I’m hungry all the time. I’m glad I did—I mighta missed you.”

He was thinking about excusing himself and leaving to avoid seeing Mary and the girls, and he wasn’t sure why he felt that way. He didn’t have a choice, anyway, because when Ardella’s plate arrived, the waitress asked him if he’d like more coffee, and Ardella answered for him. “Yeah, he does, thank you. He’s gotta stay and talk to me for a while.” She interrupted her rambling talk for a moment when she saw someone enter the dining room.

He turned to see what had caught her attention, and immediately saw why. There, pausing in the doorway, scanning the entire room, was a sinister-looking man with long dirty white hair, his eyes like two blue-hot coals as they peered out from under ominous dark eyebrows. He had the look of a predator as he swept the dining room with his gaze, coming to rest on Cam and Ardella, moving on, then coming back to them as if uncertain, before walking back to the door, where he paused once again to look over the room. Of particular interest to Cam was the way the man wore his handgun, and the fact that he wore it into the dining room. His holster was on his right side, with the gun handle forward, which would indicate he was left-handed. Then Cam spotted the reason. His right hand was bound with what appeared to be rawhide cords, and the hand looked to be misshapen.

“I reckon it’s a good thing that man don’t seem to see whoever he’s lookin’ for,” Ardella commented when he abruptly left the room. “’Cause he looked like he was ready to shoot ever’body in the place.”

Cam had to agree with Ardella. The man had an evil look about him, and it was apparent that he was looking for somebody—and whoever that somebody was might be in for a rough night.

“Cam!” he heard the child scream, and turned to see Emma running toward him with Grace close behind. Both girls piled onto his lap, almost strangling him with their hugs. Beaming openly, Mary walked across the room to greet him as well. “I knew you wouldn’t break your promise,” Emma said gleefully. “I told Grace you’d come to see us.”

Obviously glad to see him, Mary said, “Well, if this isn’t a surprise. We thought you’d be riding up in the Black Hills by now.” She admitted to herself that she envied the girls’ ability to just run up and hug him.

“Well, like I told Ardella, I was gonna head up that way, but I wanted to sell the horses you left me with, and Cheyenne was the best place to take ’em, so I rode on down here.” He reached up and gently loosened Emma’s stranglehold on his neck. “I hear you’re fixin’ to settle down right here in Cheyenne,” he said to Mary.

“Yes, it seems like a better idea than going back to Fort Collins,” she said, then went on to tell him about her meetings with Garland Proctor and Jim Pylant. “They’re so willing to help me get started,” she concluded, “that I just didn’t believe I’d get that much help in Fort Collins.”

“I know you’ll be fine,” Cam said, “especially since you’ve got Ardella to help you.”

“Tell him how good he smells,” Ardella said, with a great big grin.

“I noticed you’ve gotten all cleaned up,” Mary commented, “new clothes, too. Is there some special occasion?”

Feeling the flush in his face beginning to spread, he fought to control his embarrassment. “Nope, just the occasion of needin’ a shirt that ain’t two sizes too big, and a pair of pants to replace those wore-out britches I was wearin’. That’s all.”

“Long Sam was a big man,” Ardella interjected proudly.

“Well, I’ve got to be goin’,” Cam said. “I’ll let you folks get on with your supper.”

“Where are you going?” Mary asked. “Can’t you stay and visit with us while we eat?”

“I told Smiley down at the stable that I’d be right down there to finish up with those horses he’s buyin’,” he lied. “I shoulda already been there. He’ll think I’m backin’ out.”

Clearly disappointed, Mary said, “Maybe later. I hope you got a good price for the horses.”

“Not as good as I should have,” he replied as he got up from his chair. He reached down and mussed Emma’s hair. “You behave yourself, Skeeter, and do like your mama tells ya. Grace, you keep her straight.” He turned to leave.

“Will we see you again?” Mary asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, “maybe. You’re gonna be pretty busy, sounds to me, so I don’t wanna get in the way.” He walked briskly to the door then, so as to end the conversation before he was foolish enough to confess that he wanted to see her again.

A most interested observer of the awkward exchange between the two, Ardella shook her head slowly. It was plain to see that the two had strong feelings for each other, but neither one wanted to admit it, for reasons all their own.
It’s a damn shame,
she thought,
but it ain’t for me to say anything about it
.

“Do you think we’ll see him again?” Mary asked Ardella when Cam had gone.

“I don’t know,” Ardella replied. “Do you wanna see him again?”

“Well, of course,” Mary answered. “Cam is a good friend, and the girls would really like for him to visit often.”

“I expect you’d best let him know, ’cause I don’t think he knows. He’s thinkin’ he got fired, so he ain’t likely to hang around. A man like Cam won’t stay long any place he feels like he ain’t needed.”

Her answer only served to confuse Mary more, because she could not bring herself to tell him. “He should know that he’s welcome,” she finally said, ending the discussion.

Outside the dining room, Cam almost ran into Jim Pylant, who was on his way inside. “Sorry,” Pylant said, “I didn’t see you coming.”

“It was my fault,” Cam insisted. “I reckon my mind was on somethin’ else.” He stepped aside to let him pass.

“Cam Sutton, wasn’t it? Did you find your friends, Mrs. Bishop and the others?” Cam allowed that he had just left them. “She’s a fine lady,” Pylant went on. “I was hoping I would see her at supper, but I’m running a little bit late.”

“Well, she’s still in the dining room,” Cam said, and headed for the lobby door, suddenly needing some air, the picture in his mind of the highly polished man, standing beside him in his coarse new clothes. He didn’t like the thought of the comparison in Mary’s eyes. He suddenly had an urge for a drink of whiskey, something he didn’t crave very often.
And then
, he decided,
I’m gonna get my stuff out of that fancy hotel room and get the hell out of this town
. He finally and completely admitted to himself that he was jealous, an emotion he had never experienced before, and he didn’t like the feel of it. So he figured the best remedy for the affliction was to remove himself from the source. As soon as he settled on that, he said to hell with the drink of whiskey, turned around, and went back into the hotel. A drink would only delay his departure.

It didn’t take him but a few minutes to pick up his saddlebags and rifle, retrieve his bag of dust from the chamber pot, and turn his key over to the desk clerk. “Ain’t you even gonna stay the night?” the clerk asked. “Is there something wrong with the room?”

“Nope,” Cam said. “I just gotta be goin’. How much do I owe you?”

The clerk scratched his head, still surprised. “You paid in advance. Did you get in the bed, take the quilt off?” Cam replied that he had not touched the bed, and he hadn’t used the chamber pot. “Well, you owe fifty cents for the bath and I guess that’s all.”

“Fair enough,” Cam said. “I ’preciate it.” He collected his refund and left.

Smiley Thompson was as surprised as the hotel clerk had been when Cam came to get his two horses. He stood talking to him while he put his saddle on the dun. “I thought you was thinkin’ ’bout hangin’ around town for a couple of days. You ain’t spent all that money I just paid you for them horses, have you?”

“I just changed my mind about stayin’,” Cam said as he tightened up on the cinch. “I think I’ll head back north.”

“Where’bouts you headed up north?”

“Just north. I’ll know when I get there.”

Smiley shrugged, figuring Cam was not unlike many other drifters who blew through Cheyenne with the east wind. “Well, if you get back this way any time soon, I’ll still make good on that promise of free board for your horses.”

“This fellow, Pylant,” Cam couldn’t resist asking, “he runs a pretty big outfit, does he?”

“His is the biggest spread in the county,” Smiley said. “You thinkin’ ’bout lookin’ for a job?”

“Shit no,” Cam answered in no uncertain terms. “I expect I’ll go back to punchin’ cattle somewhere. I don’t know much about anythin’ else, but it ain’t gonna be around here.” He went into the corral to put a bridle on his packhorse and lead it outside. “Looks like you picked up another new horse,” he said, looking at a paint that wasn’t there earlier.

“Feller just left that horse today,” Smiley said. “Strange-lookin’ feller, looks like a damn wild animal.”

“I think I saw him in the hotel dining room a little while ago,” Cam said. “Long, white-lookin’ hair?”

“That’s the one,” Smiley said. “He looks like a lot of that wild bunch that used to come ridin’ through here a few years back.”

“Well, I reckon I’ll get started while I’ve got a little daylight left, maybe make it to Lodgepole Creek tonight,” Cam said when he finished packing the sorrel. He stepped up into the saddle and turned the dun’s head toward the stage road he had ridden in on.

•   •   •

Mary had ample cause to feel optimistic after her meeting in the hotel dining room with Jim Pylant. He had assured her that he knew a responsible man who would build her boardinghouse exactly as she wanted it, and offered his assistance in any other matters that might discourage a lady when it came to establishing a business. Jim was a most gracious and proper gentleman, unusual for a man who raised cattle for a living. He seemed also to take pride in his appearance, deservedly so, for he was certainly a handsome man. These were the thoughts that occupied her mind as she left the hotel and hurried down the street to pick up some things she had forgotten to buy at the store. She feared that it might be too late, but maybe the store hadn’t closed. It was still early in the evening. So occupied was she that she was unaware of the man walking quickly up behind her until she was suddenly snatched sideways into the alley between the bank and the dry goods store. One powerful arm pinned her arms to her sides while a rawhide-bound hand clapped roughly over her mouth, stifling her screams, and she was lifted off her feet and carried to the rear of the bank where a paint horse was tied.

“Remember me?” Cotton Roach growled as he pressed her hard against the wall. Her eyes, wide with horror, told him that she did, even in the fading light of the alley. “You’ve been leadin’ me on one helluva chase, but I knew I’d finally catch up with you—you and that son of a bitch ridin’ with you.” He pressed a little harder against her to make sure she understood. “Now, I’m just wantin’ to have a little talk with you. I ain’t gonna hurt you if you behave. Understand?” Unable to move, she tried to acknowledge with a flick of her eyelids. “I’m gonna take my hand off your mouth,” he went on, “so you can tell me what I wanna know. If you make one squeak for help, I’ll shut you up for good. You understand that?” Again, she signaled with her eyelids.

Very slowly, he removed the offensive hand from her mouth, while locking his penetrating gaze upon her eyes. “Mr. Smith,” she gasped, terrified to see the strange-looking man who had ridden on the stage with her and her children.

“Yeah, Mr. Smith,” Roach replied contemptuously. “Where is that son of a bitch that’s been leadin’ you all over the territory, the one that wears that damn red bandanna? He’s caused me a helluva lot of trouble, killed my partner, and more than that he owes me for this.” He whipped his injured hand up before her face, causing her to flinch, thinking she was about to be struck.

Finding her voice again, she answered him. “I don’t know where he is. He was here, but he left. He didn’t tell anyone he was leaving.” Terrified moments before, she watched the reaction in those dead blue eyes and realized he was uncertain about his next move. Emboldened by his indecision, she said, “You’d better get away from here as fast as you can. When the sheriff finds out you’re here, he’ll arrest you for robbery and murder.”