Colorado Bride (14 page)

Carrie walked slowly, wanting to consider all the possible approaches before she faced Bemis. She probably wouldn’t be given a second chance to talk to him, so she wanted to make sure she made the most of what time she had.

The lane behind the hotel was little more than a rubble-strewn alley, but Carrie wasn’t about to be stopped now. Her blood was up and nothing but a confrontation would satisfy her. It was easy to find the bathhouse. Even in the relatively warm summer air, the steam escaping from the shed was clearly visible. When she saw an old man enter with a load of wood, all question was removed, but the door was closed when she reached the shed and it took her some moments to decide how best to attract Bemis’s attention. After the way he’d already treated her summons, merely knocking on the door didn’t seem to be quite forceful enough.

“Mr. Bemis, are you in there?” Carrie called. “This is Mrs. Simpson from the stagecoach station speaking. I would like to speak with you for a few moments, please,” Carrie waited for nearly a minute, but there was no answer and no sound from inside. She didn’t know whether they were frozen by shock or simply ignoring her again. “Mr. Bemis,” she called again, louder this time, “I would like to speak with you. I have gone to some trouble to find you, so I would appreciate it if you could spare me a few minutes.” Still there was no answer. This man is rude, Carrie said to herself, actually relieved to have the restriction of polite behavior removed. Now there was no reason why she should continue to be ladylike. She looked about, selected a long, narrow piece of wood, and gave the bathhouse door several good raps. “Mr. Bemis, I will not leave until I have had a word with you, so you might as well come on out.” There was no immediate response and she rapped sharply on the door again.

The door opened, finally, and the wizened little old man she had seen carry in the wood stepped out. He looked even worse up close, his body bent, his complexion sallow, and two teeth missing from his head.

“Jake says go away,” the little man said scornfully, much like he was shooing chickens. “He already told you he don’t want your job. No self-respecting man will work for no woman.” For added emphasis, he spat, splattering the ground with a stream of tobacco juice. Carrie stepped forward, being careful to avoid the tobacco juice, and rapped sharply on the door once more.

“Mr. Bemis, I intend to speak with you. If you won’t come outside to me, I will have to go inside to you.”

“You can’t go in there,” the little man protested, shocked out of his scornful attitude. “There’s men in there in their natural state. It ain’t fitting.”

“Aren’t they in tubs?” Carrie asked.

“Well, yes, but they’re still naked.”

“As long as I can’t see them, it won’t matter.” She rapped again on the door. Time’s up, Mr. Bemis.” There was no response from inside the shed, so Carrie opened the door and stepped into the bathhouse.

For a moment Carrie couldn’t see or breathe. The only light in the room came from the glowing embers and occasional flames under the big copper pot of boiling water, but a thick fog of stream made the air virtually impenetrable to the eye. After a moment Carrie’s vision adjusted to the dim room and she could make out the heads and shoulders of three men staring at her bug-eyed as they cowered in their wooden barrels.

“I tried to stop her,” the wizened old man told them, “but she wouldn’t listen.”

“Which one of you is Jake Bemis?” Carrie demanded. Two of the men immediately pointed to a third, a crusty-looking man of about thirty-five who sat in his barrel with his hat on and a cigar in his mouth.

“Mr. Bemis, where I come from it’s not considered polite to ignore a message, most especially when it’s from a lady. You don’t have to take any job you don’t want, but it’s usually common courtesy to say so. I consider your actions cowardly and downright ungentlemanly, and if I weren’t a lady I would tell you what I think of men like you.” All four men stared at her as if they’d never seen a woman before.

“However, I realize you may not have perfectly understood what I wanted of you, so I’m prepared to forgive your rudeness and start all over again.”

“I didn’t ask you to forgive me,” Jake muttered.

“I shall, nevertheless. The good book says we’re to forgive our enemies seven times seventy. Though you’re not my enemy, at least not yet, you ought to be worth forgiving at least once.” Jake didn’t know what to say. Leaving aside the fact this woman was so pretty he couldn’t be sure he wasn’t dreaming, he’d never seen a female who had the nerve to walk into a bathhouse full of naked men, and then coolly stand around talking about forgiving him just like they were in church. She was the one who ought to be doing the apologizing, but somehow Jake didn’t feel she was going to. He stared at her, wondering what she was going to say next.

“I came to offer you a job as stock tender at the Green Run Pass stagecoach station,” she said. “Mr. Lucas Barrow recommended you most highly. I fired Baca Riggins, and Cody and Buck left with him.” Jake had heard a rumor that some woman had chased Baca off the station, but he hadn’t believed it until this tiny mite of a female stormed into the bathhouse to offer him the vacant position.
Now
he could believe it.

“You would, of course, have to see that the horses were properly cared for, the harnesses kept in good repair, and the barn orderly, but you could sleep in the station and take your meals with us in the kitchen. It pays well.”

“I ain’t taking your job,” Jake managed to say at least. “You can save yourself the effort of saying anything more.”

“Am I to understand that you are already employed?”

“No, I ain’t got no job.”

“Are you looking for a job?”

“I suppose so. A man can always use a good job.”

“Do you consider the stock tender position a good job?” Jake hated it when people asked questions for which they already had the answer.

“Yeah, but I ain’t taking it.”

“Could I ask why?” Jake was uneasy now. This woman was taking things too easy. She had looked mighty determined when she came in and she hadn’t moved so much as an inch since, but she was talking to him now almost like she was apologizing for taking up his time. He had a feeling he was making a wrong move, but he answered anyway.

“Because you’re a woman, and I don’t work for no woman.”

“But you’d take the job if a man offered it to you.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

“Suppose I could prove to you that I’m just as good as a man?”

“Can’t be done,” the wizened little man answered for Jake. “Ain’t no woman born who’s the equal of a man.”

'Clearly I’m no man, but suppose I could demonstrate I was no ordinary female?”

“How?”

Carrie opened her purse and took out a small pistol. “Would you let one of these gentlemen shoot the cigar out of your mouth?”

“Hell no,” Jake stated emphatically. “I’d be deader’n a doornail.”

“Then if I could do it, I’d be better than these three men at least?”

“Yeah, but you can’t do it, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you try.?

“You’d better sit very still, Mr. Bemis, or you will be
damned
quite a bit sooner than you had expected.” Jake stared at Carrie, his eyes bugging out of his head. She was aiming the pistol straight at him. The two bathers dived into their tubs, the wizened little man made a leap for the door, and then there was the deafening explosion of a pistol shot.

Jake didn’t feel a thing, and he was sure he was dead. He knew he was covered with blood, and his wound would be hurting like sin if he were alive.

“If you will look at your cigar,” Carrie directed him as calmly as if nothing had happened, “you will notice I have removed just the end. You may smoke the rest of it tomorrow.”

If he could hear her he must still be alive, Jake reasoned, but he was afraid if he moved it would somehow break the spell. Still, his curiosity was greater than his fear, and he looked at the cigar. The end had been neatly shot off. The other bathers ventured to raise their heads, and their goggling eyes threatened to fall on the floor when they saw what Carrie had done.

“Now, I’ll expect you at the station before evening,” Carrie said, starting to put away her pistol. “Of course, I’ll allow you some time to settle your personal affairs, but I need someone on the job immediately.”

“I ain’t never worked for a woman, and I ain’t starting now,” Jake stated, still staring at the end of his cigar.

“But you just promised—”

“I did no such thing,” Jake insisted.

“Why Mr. Bemis, don’t you know it’s a sin to lie? With my own ears I heard you say you would take the job if it were offered by a man. These men can verify it. Well, I’ve just proved myself as good as a man, so you must take the job.”

“I don’t care what I said,” Jake said mulishly, “I won’t work for you.”

Carrie studied her pistol. “Mr. Bemis, I don’t approve of men who make promises and then go back on them. If you go back on your promise, I may feel it necessary to punish you.”

“What can you do?” demanded one of the other bathers.

“I could shoot you,” Carrie said, turning the pistol in the questioner’s direction. The man dived under the water. “But I won’t kill you, Mr. Bemis,” Carrie said, turning the pistol until it pointed at his heart. “I’ll just mark you so everybody will always know you for a cowardly man.”

“You can’t do any such thing,” Jake boasted, then added, “How would you try?”

“I’d shoot your ears off,” Carrie told him.

Jake blanched white, but he did not waver. “You’re bluffing. Even if you could do it, you wouldn’t have the nerve.”

I’ll just take the tops off. It wouldn’t hurt your hearing a bit, just mark you up a little.”

I still say you’re bluffing.” Suddenly Carrie elevated her pistol and fired. This time it was Jake who dived into the barrel.

“Look at your hat, Mr. Bemis,” Carrie called out.

“I ain’t coming out of this barrel.”

Then I’ll have to let the water out for you. I think two shots will do.” Jake’s head slowly came into view. He took off his hat and stared at it. There was a hole through the turned-up brim, just above his ear. He gaped at Carrie, dawning realization telling him this woman meant what she said.

There was a sudden commotion outside, and much to Carrie’s astonishment, several people burst into the small shed, the first among them being Lucas Barrow

Chapter 8

“What in hell is going on in here?” Lucas demanded.

“I was merely offering Mr. Bemis a job,” Carrie replied with a self-satisfied smile.

This old goat told us you were shooting up the place,” the sheriff said, indicating the wizened old man.

“I did fire my pistol, but he’s exaggerating a bit.” Lucas’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Mr. Bemis wanted proof of my marksmanship before he would accept a job I offered him. Since he was in no condition to step outside, I was compelled to hold my demonstration here.”

“She shot the end off my cigar,” Jake disclosed, holding up the evidence of his statement in an unsteady hand. Then, by jasper, she put a hole in my hat right above my ear, said she was going to notch them both if I didn’t take the job.”

“Now look here, Mrs. Simpson, you can’t go forcing people to take jobs when they don’t—”

“Mr. Bemis neglected to tell you that we had made a bargain,” Carrie said, interrupting the sputtering sheriff in mid-sentence. “He said he would take my job if I proved myself as good as a man. I was supposed to shoot the cigar out of his mouth, but when I did, Mr. Bemis tried to back out of his agreement.

“Is that true, Bemis?” the sheriff asked.

“She tricked me,” Jake complained. “Fair trapped me without my knowing what was happening.”

“You can ask those gentlemen if you need any further corroboration,” Carrie said, indicating the two bathers with a wave of her pistol. The two so indicated took one look at Carrie’s pistol and didn’t wait to be asked.

“Every word she says is the gospel truth.”

“Old Jake was caught fair and square. She’s a mean shot with that pistol of hers.”

“It wasn’t a demanding shot, not at such close range,” Carrie admitted modestly.

“I suggest we get out of here and let these men get dressed before they shrivel up like prunes,” Lucas said. “Mrs. Simpson needs to be back at the station before the next stage comes through.”

“When may I expect you, Mr. Bemis?” Carrie asked, determined not to move until he committed himself in front of all these witnesses.

“I don’t rightly know. I got quite a few things that need looking into.”

“Such as?” Carrie’s tone was not encouraging.

“Personal things,” he said, driven to the wall. “I ought to be done in four or five days.”

“I think four or five
hours
ought to be sufficient. I’ll help you,” Carrie offered.

“I don’t need no help. You just go back to that station, and I’ll be along directly.”

“When? I don’t want to have to come back after you.”

“Never you mind when. I’ll be there.”

“Give her a time, Jake,” the sheriff ordered. “I don’t want her back here shooting up the town.”