VROLOK (51 page)

Wyatt was prepared to incite their suspicions. “I think she may be cheating.”

Tom shook his head. He was disappointed in Wyatt, who was always shooting his mouth off and causing arguments when there was no need to cause one.

“She is not cheating, Wyatt, she is just a good poker player,” Tom said firmly.

“I don’t know, a stint in the jailhouse overnight may bring her lucky streak to an end,” Wyatt threatened. Wyatt approached Isabella and grabbed her arm. Isabella looked at his hand and then drew her gaze to his face.

“Remove your hand,” Isabella said firmly.

“Why should I?”

“I asked you to.” Isabella said her voice low and determined.

“Do people usually do what you say?” Wyatt asked.

“They do,” Isabella said calmly. Isabella knew Nicolae was watching her with a childish grin on his face. Tom McKey went over to the bar and stood beside Nicolae, also watching the pair.

“Are you that woman’s husband?” Tom McKey asked.

“I am,” Nicolae answered.

“Do you not think you should intercede?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Nicolae patted Tom on the back and answered. “Watch for yourself—she can handle herself.”

“You are sure?” Tom asked trying to ensure that it was the right decision to leave the pair alone. He knew how hot-tempered Wyatt could be. His mouth was always getting him into trouble and he feared he might lash out at Isabella. “I mean to say I know Wyatt, he has a hot temper and he may do something rash, he could hit her.” Nicolae laughed. He poured Tom a glass of whisky and turned back towards the scene.

“Let him try…” Nicolae said. “Let him try.”

“You are not acting very concerned for your wife’s safety.”

“No…I can’t say that I am.” Nicolae turned and poured himself and Tom another drink. Tom was looking at this man with amazement. He was displaying no concern for his wife; he looked as if he wanted Wyatt to hit her.

“Are you unhappy in your marriage, sir?” Tom asked.

“No, I am very happy with my wife?”

“You don’t act like it.”

“Tom, is that your name?” Nicolae asked.

“It is.”

“Tom, I would be more concerned for your friend. If he does not remove his grip from my wife’s arm very soon, she may kill him.” Tom looked at Nicolae astonished. “If he is lucky she may just break a few bones, but knowing my wife, she’ll probably kill him.” Tom was still standing dumbstruck: he looked over at Isabella’s face, and there was a feral look upon it. He looked back towards Nicolae, who nodded with a smug look now upon his face. It was the look of a proud husband.

Tom now realised that Isabella was in no danger and actually feared for Wyatt. He went back to the poker table. “Wyatt, perhaps you should leave the lady alone.”

“Tom, don’t tell me you are afraid of a woman.”

“Something tells me, we both should be afraid of this one.” Wyatt tightened his grip on Isabella’s wrist. Isabella joined the conversation.

“Let go of my arm,” Isabella said again firmly.

“No, you are coming with me.” Wyatt was now being obstinate. He was now determined to arrest Isabella.

“Remove your hand from me, sir,” Isabella commanded again.

“Or you’ll what?” Wyatt asked. Isabella leaned in close and whispered in his ear.

“I will break your trigger finger; you’ll never be able to work as a marshal again.” Tom was getting very anxious about the situation again, but this time his concern was directed at Wyatt.

“Wyatt, leave it, what will it prove to overpower a woman? It won’t do your reputation any good,” Tom said.

Wyatt, sensing there was no good way out of this situation but still determined not to be upstaged by a woman, did not relinquish his grip.

Isabella had had more than enough. She grabbed Wyatt’s hand, removing it from her arm, and bent it back towards his upper arm. Wyatt was in terrible pain; he couldn’t believe the vise-like grip this woman now had on him. He tried to pull back but now it was Isabella who would not relinquish her grip. He then tried to back away from Isabella but she would not let him.

Tom tried to intercede on Wyatt’s behalf. Isabella looked around at the crowd that was in the saloon; they were all watching her. She did not want to leave this town just yet and such a public murder would ensure that she had to leave. So Isabella let Tom intercede on Wyatt’s behalf.

“You will have to forgive Wyatt, Mrs. Hawthorne…” Tom began. “He is not used to dealing with a woman of quality.”

Isabella let go and Wyatt fell to the floor clutching his hand. Isabella got up to leave. Nicolae quickly finished his drink to accompany Isabella back to their rooms. When Nicolae was at the door he leaned down to Wyatt and helped him up. As he did so he whispered in his ear.

“Your friend saved your life tonight, Wyatt.” Wyatt pushed Nicolae away from him. Nicolae started to laugh and said, “Don’t ever underestimate a woman, especially that woman.” Nicolae left with a smug grin on his face. Wyatt was a man who continually told stories about his exploits and who normally exaggerated his part in these exploits. This was a story he never told a soul.

Isabella and Nicolae stayed away from the Comique for a few weeks; it was the saloon which mostly the law makers and gamblers would inhabit. Nicolae, always the voice of reason, convinced Isabella to stay away.

“If you kill him, we will have to leave here.” Isabella said nothing. “I know you like it here.”

“All right.” Isabella was exasperated because she knew he was right.

“Just wait until you can look at him without wanting to kill him.”

Isabella smiled and said, “That may take a long time.”

Nicolae laughed. “I know it may.”

Isabella and Nicolae had stayed away from the Comique, but Isabella was itching to go back; she missed it. No other saloon in Dodge had the same atmosphere and the sense of imminent danger just bubbling under the surface; it was an exciting place to be.

After a few weeks had passed, Isabella had almost convinced herself and Nicolae that she could control her temper. When they walked into the Comique that evening it had not changed. Tom McKey was there but this time he had a woman with him. He was acting totally uninterested in her but she was sticking to him with a sense of urgency. It was as if she was convinced that if she turned her back on him she would lose him. Isabella went over to the table and asked to join the game. Tom McKey’s lady friend was the first to respond.

“No women are allowed to play.”

Isabella was insulted and she raised her gaze to look at this woman’s face. When Isabella saw the desperate look in the woman’s eyes she was inclined to feel sorry for her. Tom responded to his companion’s outburst, first with a sigh followed by a vocal response.

“Now, Kate, you are not being civil, you should listen to this woman, you should study her. For she is something you are not.” Tom McKey coughed and then continued. “For she is a lady.”

Kate looked down at Tom. She was hurt by his words but she did not walk away or cry. Her hurt sensibilities welled up into a fury. As Isabella would come to find out, this was always Kate’s standard reaction to Tom’s hurtful words. She smashed Tom’s bottle of whisky and pressed it to his throat. Tom slapped her across the face and she was thrust back to the floor. Kate immediately stood up and grabbed a gun from another man’s holster. She pointed it at Tom her hand was shaking; Kate wanted to hurt him as he had hurt her.

Isabella’s sympathy rested totally with Kate and she knew that if Kate succeeded in killing Tom, even though at least in Isabella’s eyes he may have deserved it, Kate would be lynched and she did not deserve that. Isabella reached out her hand and touched Kate’s arm. Tom was laughing at Kate, maliciously trying to provoke her to follow through on her threat. Kate looked around at Isabella and Isabella smiled a comforting warm smile.

“Come with me, Kate.” Kate immediately calmed. A sense of serenity swept over her. Kate held her head up high, dropped the gun, and walked outside the saloon with Isabella.

The two women walked down the street together. Kate’s serene mood was leaving her and she turned towards Isabella.

“I know what you are up to.”

“What am I up to, Kate?” Isabella asked.

“You are trying to take him from me.”

“After the way he behaved tonight I would not want him; besides I have a husband and I have no need for another. I am no threat to you in that regard.” Kate believed her, which was one of Isabella’s gifts; Isabella could make people believe her, especially when she was telling the truth. “Why do you stay with him?” Isabella asked. “He obviously treats you with no respect.”

Kate pulled her shawl in tight around her shoulders and simply said, “I love him.”

Isabella smiled. She of all people could not blame this woman for loving someone she should not.

“Well, Kate, I hope you can be happy with him…” Isabella smiled at Kate and continued. “Or at least I hope you kill him before he kills you.” Isabella looked at Kate and even she smiled and started to laugh slightly. “Go home and get some sleep,” Isabella said.

“I can’t,” Kate answered.

“Go on. I will keep an eye on him; he’ll behave himself. I‘ll make sure of it.” Kate smiled at Isabella in gratitude and then turned to go home.

Isabella returned to the Comique and by this time Wyatt had arrived. He was staying well away from Isabella. He did not want to embarrass himself again. So he hardly acknowledged her presence.

Tom was wiping the whisky that Kate had spilled off his lap when Wyatt approached him.

“Trouble?” Wyatt asked.

“Just Kate,” Tom replied.

“I have told you many times you should be able to keep that woman under control,” Wyatt said. Isabella could not help herself; she had to at least say something.

“And how would you control her, Mr. Earp?” Isabella enquired.

“When I hit her she would not be able to get up so quickly.”

“You certainly could not control me,” Isabella cut in. “I doubt you would have any better luck with Kate.”

“She has you there, Wyatt,” Tom said. “Let’s leave it at that.”

Wyatt walked out of the Comique in a fury. The next few hours swept by quickly and then Morgan Earp, Wyatt’s younger brother, entered the Comique and went straight over to Tom.

“Have you seen Wyatt?” Morgan asked.

“No, not in a few hours?” Tom responded.

“Doc, I’m hearing he is in trouble.”

“That wouldn’t be like Wyatt,” Tom said sardonically.

“Tobe Driscoll and Ed Morrison are looking for him.”

“Do you want me to help you find him?” Tom asked.

“I do.” Tom immediately downed the rest of his whiskey and went with Morgan without a minute’s hesitation. Another few hours passed and in the early hours of the morning. The Comique was brought to an eerie silence as shouting was heard coming from the street outside. A few shots were fired in quick succession and then there was silence again. The people inside the Comique figuring whatever argument which had started had now finished and continued on with what they were doing. Then the noise started up again, but not one of them was concerned that someone may have been shot dead outside.

Isabella, unlike the people around her, was at least curious about the incident and went outside to see what had happened. The gunfight was far from over; Wyatt was facing off ten men. Any shots that had been fired had just been into the air. Isabella stood watching. She had absolutely no inclination to help Wyatt, but she was slightly impressed that he was facing all these men by himself. Nicolae came out to join Isabella. She recognised Driscoll and Morrison—she had seen them about the town.

“You have to admit he is brave,” Nicolae began.

“Not brave enough to face me,” Isabella said.

“Who would be?” Nicolae answered. “He is not going to live through this.” Nicolae continued.

“We’ll see,” Isabella answered.

“Do you know something I don’t?” Nicolae asked.

“I suspect this man has a lot of luck on his side and perhaps even a few good friends.”