Dorothy Garlock - [Colorado Wind 03] (29 page)

“Have you decided when and where?” Ellie asked. “Oh, my! Will we have time to make a dress?”

“If you can do it in a week,” Kain said, squeezing Vanessa’s hand tightly under the table. “I’ll see if we can get the preacher out here next Sunday.”

“That’s six days from now!” Ellie’s voice squeaked.

“I don’t need a new dress, Aunt Ellie. I can wear the blue silk with mutton sleeves. I’ve only worn it once. There’ll be enough to do without you staying up nights to sew. Isn’t that right, Kain?”

“You can wear just what you have on, honey. It’ll be all right with me. Anything,” he said with a chuckle. “Even those britches you wore on the trail.”

“They were comfortable. It isn’t fair that women have to wear yards and yards of skirts flapping around their legs.”

“It’s a shame, sweetheart, that they hide all that prettiness from the world!” Kain had to force his teasing eyes from her glowing face to look at Ellie. “Vanessa and I want to be married here. I want to invite my friends. One of them is part Indian and he and his wife wouldn’t feel welcome at the church. It’ll mean extra work for you, preparing food and finding places for them all to sleep.”

“I don’t mind that. Oh, dear, what
will
we have in the way of food? Thank goodness for you, Clay. Do you suppose you could get another antelope?”

“I ’spect I could, ma’am. But I got a idea. Me ’n Jeb’s cooked many a steer fer a whoop-de-la. If’n ya want, we’ll get ya one ’n cook it fer ya, Texas style.”

“You mean dig a pit, fill it with coals, put in the steer and cover it for a few days?” Kain saw the pleased look that covered the Texan’s face.

“Ya’ve et pit-cooked steer meat?”

“You bet! Down in Fort Worth. It’ll be a treat to have it again. They’ve got stock pens in town. Let me know when you want to go pick one out.”

“It’s settled?” Ellie asked, then sighed with relief when both men nodded. “Now all I have to worry about is the rest of the food and the sleeping arrangements. How many will be here, Kain?”

“There’ll be the Cooper Parnells, the Logan Horns, and my friends, Fort Griffin and Bonnie. They live down on the Blue, and I don’t know if there’s enough time to get word to him, but if he can’t get here in time for the wedding it’ll be shortly after. And, oh yes, Cooper’s mother and her husband. They live on the Morning Sun and can come over with Logan and his family.”

“We can use four of the bedrooms on the second floor. I’ll sleep in with Mary Ben, and Henry can go to the bunkhouse with John, Jeb and Clay.”

“Ma, I want to say something.” Henry spoke up firmly.

“Yes, son?”

“Remember that I told you that Mary Ben and I want to get married?” Ellie’s quick intake of breath could be heard in the quiet following Henry’s statement.

“Henry!” Mary Ben hissed and nudged him with her elbow.

“Don’t be Henryin’ me, Mary Ben. I’m going to say it. I’m going to marry Mary Ben sometime, Ma. Why can’t we get married when Van and Kain get married?”

All eyes turned from Henry to Ellie. “Well, son—”

“I already asked John. Kain said I ought to ask him because John’s like Mary Ben’s pa.”

Vanessa looked at her cousin with pride. Henry
had
changed. He was speaking out for what he wanted.

Ellie’s troubled eyes turned to Kain.

“If they have your consent and John’s, Ellie, Vanessa and I would be proud to share our wedding day with Henry and Mary Ben,” he said.

“What do you think, John?” Ellie asked. “Mary Ben has been with my son enough to realize what it will mean to be married to him. I’m very fond of her. If they marry, she’ll be like a daughter to me.”

“She ain’t no rattle-head, ma’am. If she wants him fer her man, it’ll be her that says it.”

“Mary Ben?” Ellie realized that being the center of attention was agony for the girl. Her head was bowed and the lamplight cast a rosy glow on her flushed face. Slowly she looked up and met Ellie’s eyes squarely.

“Henry ain’t no rattle-head either, ma’am. He said right out he wanted me. And I’m sayin’ right out I want him ’n I’ll stand by him.” It was the most positive statement any of them had ever heard her make.

When Vanessa looked at her aunt she saw tears rolling down her cheeks. She and the young girl who sat within the circle of her son’s arm were looking at each other as if they were the only two people in the room. An understanding was being forged between the two women. Ellie’s lips quivered when she spoke.

“I’m proud to welcome you to the family, Mary Ben.”

“Thanky, ma’am. I aim ta be a help to ya.”

“Well.” Ellie took a deep breath. “We’ll have two weddings. Things are happening so fast my head is dosey. Oh, my! Mary Ben must have a new dress!”

“Remember that pink and white striped dress you made for me, Aunt Ellie? It’s so tight I can scarcely breathe. We’ll have time to fix it for Mary Ben if she wants it.”

“That’s right, Vanessa. It’ll be perfect. She looks so pretty in pink, and she should have some pretty white slippers. You have your white ones, Vanessa, to go with the blue dress. We must go in to town and get some ribbons and things, and streamers to decorate the parlor. Oh, dear, I’ll have to get a tablet and make a list of things to do.”

The Hookers and John rose from the table. Each of them slapped Henry on the back and congratulated him.

“It’s plumb disgustin’,” Jeb said. “This young scutter come ’n took this little purty when I ain’t had me no luck a’tall gettin’ me a woman.”

“If’n ya took a bath like I tole ya, ya might stand a chance.” Clay hit his brother on the back with his hat before he slammed it down on his head. “Ain’t that right, Henry?”

“I never thought Jeb smelled bad—”

“He’s joshin’ ya, Henry. I had me one this past summer. It pert near killed me ’n didn’t help none a’tall to get me a woman. Get on outta here, Clay, afore we have us a real chicken-flutter set-to.”

*  *  *

While the women cleaned up after supper, Kain sat at the table and wrote letters for Clay to take to town the next morning. McCloud, at the store, would send them out with riders going toward the Parnells and to Morning Sun Ranch. In his letter to Logan, he asked him to invite Cooper’s mother and Arnie, and to get word to Griffin.

He hoped that Della wouldn’t hear about the weddings, although it was hard to keep such an event secret. She just might decide to come, especially if she thought Logan Horn would be there. It would matter little to her if she were invited or not. Should that happen, Kain would meet her at the gate and turn her away. He’d not allow her to disrupt this most important day of his life.

Henry was sitting patiently beside the door waiting for Mary Ben. Kain wondered what the years ahead would be like for him. Immature as he was he was luckier than most. He had his health, and with the love of a woman like Mary Ben and support from Cooper and Logan, he’d make out all right.

This would be a good opportunity for Ellie to meet Logan and Cooper and Sylvia Henderson, Kain thought, because if what he suspected were true, Ellie was due the surprise of her life.

The sound of hooves on the hard-packed road made Kain lift his head and listen. There could be as many as half a dozen horses approaching the house. He got to his feet.

“Henry, slip out the back door and go tell Clay and Jeb we have visitors. You women stay in the kitchen out of sight,” he said tensely, then went quickly to his room. He took his gun belt from the peg on the wall and was strapping it on as he strode down the hall. He picked up a lamp and set it on the table beside the door just as a loud bang on the door rattled the oval glass.

“Open up!” The voice was loud and raspy; the owner drunk or near to it. “We come to have us a real sockdolager whoopla!”

Kain opened the door. A drover with dusty clothes and a weeks growth of whiskers stood on the porch. Four more of the same stood behind him.

“Where’s the women?” he demanded and pushed on the door. Kain held it partly closed with his foot.

“You’ve been given the wrong information, men. I know what this place was in the past. It’s a private home now.”

“Ya mean it ain’t no whorehouse no more?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“I don’t believe ya. This’s always been a whorehouse. Yo’re jist ahoggin’ the women is what yo’re adoin’.” A short man with a walrus mustache elbowed his way to the front. “Stan Taylor told us The House is openin’, by Gawd, ’n we come to get our rocks knocked off. Stan said there was two wagons a women.”

“Stan Taylor was wrong. The women here are not that kind of women. Now leave before there’s trouble.”

“Who’s goin’ ta give it?” The cocky little man hitched up his gun belt.

“I am, if you don’t leave.”

“Looky here, fellers. We got us a rooster what’s goin’ to run us outta his chicken yard all by hisself. I think we ort a pull his tail feathers.”

“If you want to get your rocks knocked off with a bullet, go ahead and try it. But I think you should know that if I miss, there’s a buffalo gun pointed at your belly that won’t miss and a couple of Texan six-guns pointing at the rest of you. You better think about it before you start trying to pull tail feathers.”

“C’mon, Lyster. Stan could a been wrong.”

The man named Lyster shook off the hand that tried to pull him back from the door. “We’re Clayhill men. Clayhill runs thin’s round here, and he don’t stand fer havin’ his men pushed round. It was a long ride out here. We ort a have us a drink fer it.”

Kain’s temper flared. “Listen you stupid shithead. Clayhill doesn’t run this place. You’d better get the hell off it before I forget I didn’t want any trouble.”

“C’mon, Lyster. Quit yore jawin’. Yore makin’ a ass a yoreself. Sorry, mister. We ain’t aimin’ fer no trouble.”

“Yo’re the ass fer backin’ down, Matson. Shee . . . it! This piss ’n vinegar blowhard’s don’t ’mount to no more ’n a fart in a whirlwind. He thinks to run us off so’s he’ll have the women all to hisself.”

“Do ya want that I let loose on that thar blabbermouth, Kain? I got this here ole buffalo gun loaded to the brim ’n she’s jist itchin’ to go off.” John’s voice came out of the darkness.

“That ’n what’s got the floppy mouth is mine.” The drawl came from one of the Texans. “I got my sight right on them rocks a his he’s wantin’ to get knocked off.”

“Ya got the last floppy-mouthed bastard we run on to, Jeb. I got my sight on jist the place to give ’em a new asshole.”

The men turned and left the porch in a body, and headed for the horses. Lyster stood alone on wobbly legs, then turned and followed, threatening what he was going to do to Stan Taylor when he caught up with him.

“Dadgummit! Why’d they have to go ’n be so confound reasonable fer?”

“Hit’s the night air, John. Hit’s plumb calmin’.”

“Twas what I said ’bout the asshole what done it. Ya can’t get along without one, but I ain’t never seen no feller what wants two of ’em.”

“If’n ya wants to think ya run ’em off, Clay, go ahead. Me ’n John knows it ain’t so.”

Kain waited until he could no longer hear hoofbeats, then called out, “Much obliged.”

“Don’t mention it.” The trio headed back to the bunkhouse.

Kain closed the door, shot the bolt, and went back to the kitchen.

“They were a bit rowdy, and mad because they made the long ride for nothing. Stan Taylor spread the news all right. They’ll probably take a piece of his hide for sending them on a wild goose chase, but they’ll spread the right word, and I doubt if we’ll be bothered again.”

“I hope not.” Ellie hung the dishpan behind the stove. “Imagine them coming out here thinking . . . that!”

“I think it’s exciting, Aunt Ellie.”

“Vanessa!” Ellie scolded, but her eyes were bright with excitement, too.

“What did they want, Kain?” Henry asked with a puzzled frown. “One of them said something about rocks. They didn’t ride out here to get
rocks,
did they?”

Kain looked at Vanessa’s sparkling eyes and twitching lips. She raised her brows and the expression on her face was expectant.

“I think they came out here to drink and watch a show. They’d heard there was a redheaded woman out here who danced the cancan.”

“Van can’t dance like that!”

“Henry Hill! I can too dance the cancan!”

“I ain’t never seen you. I only saw you at a barn dance, and then you got mad and kicked Martin McCann on the shin so hard he had to be helped in his buggy. You said he pinched your bottom.”

“I’m glad to know she doesn’t like her bottom pinched, Henry. I don’t want my shins kicked until my side is healed.”

Mary Ben hung the wet towel on the rack beside the cookstove and glanced at Henry. She hesitated for a moment, then said, “Is there anythin’ else fer me to do, ma’am?”

“Not tonight, dear. In the morning we’ll have to put our heads together and make plans. There will be a hundred things to do between now and Sunday. We’ll have to figure out what day we’ll go to town. What do you think, Kain?”

“Give me another day and I’ll ride in with you. I need to call on the preacher and see if he can come out next Sunday. Come to think of it, I should see him before I send out the letters asking folks to come.”

Henry lifted Mary Ben’s coat off the peg, put it around her, and they slipped quietly out the door. As soon as it closed behind them he wrapped her in his arms, kissed her, then held her away from him and looked down into her face.

“What’s a whorehouse, Mary Ben? I heard talk about it, but nobody would tell me what it is.”

“It’s a house where women’ll do
it
with men for pay.”

“Do what?”

“Get in bed with ’em, couple with ’em. Ya know, like what we’ll do when we marry.”

“They want to do it with women they don’t even
know
?”

“If’n they don’t have a woman they do. There’s a lot a women who do it. It be the way they make their livin’.”

“I’ll have my own woman, won’t I? We’re going to get married! After next Sunday you’ll be mine forever.”

“I’m already yores, Henry Hill!”

“I know it, but then everybody will know it, too. I’m just so proud of you, Mary Ben. Kiss me again, my sweet and pretty girl. I thought you’d never get through with those old dishes.”