Friends and Enemies (5 page)

“Rebekah has a tough streak . . . just like all the Fortune women,” Robert said.

“If the Telephone Exchange is closed, are we goin' to hike up to Uncle Todd and Aunt Rebekah's?” Little Frank quizzed.

“That's seventy-two stair steps above Main Street!” Veronica whimpered. She stopped in a slump.

Patricia leaned her back against her sister's. “I'm tired, too, Daddy.”

“I'm sure the Telephone Exchange is open . . .” he insisted. “Come on, it's just around the corner.”

The blind was pulled on the glass-and-oak front door of the Deadwood-Lead Telephone Exchange. And, like the others, the door was bolted.

Robert Fortune and family trooped back out to the curb of the boardwalk. The girls collapsed on their satchels.

“What are we going to do now, Daddy?” Veronica asked.

“I think that fire must be getting worse,” Little Frank reported. “The smoke is so thick we can't see the homes up on Forest Hill.”

“Look, Daddy, here comes some men up the middle of the street,” Patricia pointed back down Main Street.

Veronica scooted her satchel to the curb and sat facing the street. “It's like a parade!”

A string of twenty men, each carrying a bucket in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other, serpentined up the center of the street.

“Where are you headed?” Robert called out.

The lead man pulled off a greasy felt hat and staggered toward them, then shouted as if they were a hundred yards away, instead of ten feet. “We're goin' to fight the fire!” he hollered, almost tipping over backwards.

“Free beer at the Piedmont Saloon for all who fight the fire!” another shouted.

“I thought we was goin' to get a whole bucket of beer, but all we got was a bottle,” a third reported.

“Where's the fire?” Robert questioned.

“At the mill!” another hollered.

“In Lead?”

“Shoot, mister, we ain't hikin' to Lead. This fire is right up there where the road turns toward Central City.” He swayed and wobbled back to the column of volunteers.

“There's a reduction mill there?” It was as if Robert had swallowed a lit firecracker and was waiting for it to explode in the pit of his stomach.

“Reduction mill? Mister, it's the sawmill that's on fire.”

The internal explosion went off. “Sawmill?” The word shot from his mouth like a Fourth of July cannon.

“Yeah, the one them Fortunes bought from Quiet Jim Troop. We hear it's burning to the ground and a-threatenin' to jump the yard to miner's hall and even the church.”

“Oh, no!” Jamie Sue gasped.

The cortege of drunks continued their haphazard march up Main Street.

“That's our mill!” Little Frank moaned.

Patricia's tongue stuck out the side of her mouth and she chewed away. “What are we going to do, Daddy?”

“Go fight a fire,” he replied.

“Do I have to carry this satchel?” Veronica pleaded. “I'm really tired, Daddy.” There was no dance in her step.

“You and the girls stay here. Little Frank and I will . . .”

“Oh, no you don't. If we can kill snakes and catch train robbers, we can fight fires!” Jamie Sue blurted back. “You've made the point about the toughness of your family's women. We do not intend to be stranded on the streets of Deadwood while the rest of the family is in peril. Come on, girls, it's time to join the Fortunes of the Black Hills.”

They were all winded by the time they rounded the corner by the Belmont Hotel and could see what was left of the Troop-Fortune Lumbermill and Yard. A tall, thin black smudge-faced woman with tangled hair half unpinned stared at the charred remains. Her hands, with grimy fingernails, were on her hips, and two small dirty boys were at her side.

“Is that Rebekah?” Jamie Sue whispered. “I've never in my life seen her dirty.”

“Aunt Rebekah!” Patricia called. “What happened to our lumberyard?”

The woman spun around and a white-toothed smile glowed out from the grimy face.

“Veronica! Oh . . . Robert . . . Jamie Sue . . .” Rebekah started to cry.

“It's OK, Mama,” the taller of the two boys tried to console. “It's alright.”

“Little Frank, take Stuart and Casey over to those whitewood trees for a minute. . . . Show them your baseball bat and your leather glove,” Robert motioned. Then he held out his arms to his sister-in-law.

“I'm filthy,” Rebekah whimpered.

“Who cares?” Robert grabbed her and held her tight. “What happened, darlin'?” he asked as Jamie Sue stepped up and also hugged her weeping sister-in-law.

Tears cut furrows into the grime on Rebekah's high, square cheek bone. “There was an explosion in the sawdust burner. It just blew up like dynamite, scattering flames all over the mill.”

Even in the heat and smoke of the dying cinders, Robert felt a chill run down his back. “Who got hurt?”

“No one seriously, praise God. That part was a miracle. Some of the men were singed bad and some were hit with flying boards, but no one has reported anything more than a broken arm so far.” Rebekah took the blue bandanna Robert offered her and began to wipe her eyes and cheeks.

“What do you mean, so far?” Patricia asked.

“Oh . . . girls!” Rebekah clapped her hand over her chapped, dirty mouth. “You are so grown-up looking!” She held out her arms and they scooted next to her.

“What did you mean, no one is hurt so far?” Veronica echoed the challenge.

“There's always a possibility someone was at the mill we don't know about. Todd's trying to determine that now.”

Patricia chewed on her lip. “You mean they could have burnt up, Aunt Rebekah?”

“Oh, no, I'm sure there was no one else there.” She stared at the boys by the trees. “Stuart and Casey spent yesterday down at the mill with Todd. I shudder to think what would have happened if the fire was yesterday.” She began to cry again and tried to hold the tears back with the bandanna.

“The ‘what ifs' of life will drive us insane,” Robert counseled. “It's only a mill. The family is safe.”

“That's exactly what Todd said. We didn't even try to put out the mill, just kept it from spreading,” Rebekah added. “It's been a gruesome afternoon.”

“We've had quite a day as well,” Jamie Sue said.

“We heard there was a hold-up attempt on the train,” Rebekah replied.

“Yes, and then this man from the railroad offered Robert . . .”

“Enough of that,” Robert interrupted. “We'll have plenty of time for talk later. What can we do to help?” he asked.

“I think there's nothing left but to make sure the fire doesn't start back up.” Rebekah surveyed the ruins, then her eyes rested on the boys by the aspens. “How did Little Frank get so tall? I can't believe how much he looks like a young Todd,” she added.

Jamie Sue pointed at the taller of Rebekah's boys. “And your Stuart looks so much like Robert.”

“I know it. Todd often forgets and calls him Bobby.”

“Which Fortune do I look like, Aunt Rebekah?” one of the twins asked.

“Why, darling . . . you look . . . you look identical to . . . Patricia!”

“Aunt Rebekah, I am Patricia.”

A wide, relaxed smile broke across Rebekah's dirty face. “You see, I'm right.”

A fortyish-looking gray-haired man, with a dirty white shirt, no tie or suit coat, and an empty wooden bucket jogged up toward them. “If it isn't the Fortunes of Arizona! Just like little brother to show up after all the hard work is done.”

“Sammy, you look like the time you got stuck under Lesa Bufford's front porch with that family of mad raccoons,” Robert greeted.

Samuel Fortune threw an arm around his brother's shoulder and purposely rubbed soot on Robert's forehead. “The raccoons were nothin' next to the whippin' ol' man Bufford gave me when I finally crawled out.”

Veronica's blue eyes widened. “Really?”

Samuel stepped back and surveyed the twins. “Say, Bobby, you didn't introduce me to these two fancy ladies from Paris.”

Patricia bit her lip, then giggled. “It's me and Veronica, Uncle Sammy!”

Samuel pushed back his hat and spread open his arms. “Patricia? Veronica? I can't believe it! You both look so charming and mature.”

“Uncle Sammy, don't you try to sweet-talk us. We know all about you!” Veronica giggled.

“You do?”

“Yes,” Patricia continued. “Mama said if we ever meet a boy like Daddy we should marry him, and if we meet one who reminds us of Uncle Sammy, we should run the other direction.”

Sam laughed. “You've got a very wise Mama.”

“That wasn't exactly the way I worded it,” Jamie Sue protested.

With one arm around Robert's shoulders and the other around Jamie Sue's, Samuel stared at the ruins. “Well, little brother . . . what do you think about the lumberyard? Think you can make a go of it?”

“Sammy, it's not a laughin' matter,” Rebekah protested.

“Rebekah, darlin', Fortune men aren't very good at cryin', so we might as well laugh. Right, Bobby?” Samuel insisted.

Robert studied the ruins and shook his head. “You're right about that.”

Samuel Fortune dropped his arms and turned to the twins. “Amber took most all the other kids up to the schoolyard. Do you want to go up there?”

“Can we, Daddy?” Veronica asked.

“Take Little Frank and the boys with you. We'll be up in a bit,” Robert instructed.

All five children scampered down a smoke-filled Main Street.

To the north, clumps of bucket-toting men huddled around smoldering ashes. Two dark-haired ladies, soot-covered and sweaty, scurried out of the alley.

“Bobby! Jamie Sue!” the younger called out as she threw her arms around Robert's neck and planted a sooty kiss on his cheek.

He hugged her tight, then pulled back. “Well, Lil' Sis, I do believe you have a slight smudge on your face.”

Jamie Sue hugged the other woman. “Abby, it looks like you've had an exciting day.”

“It started out peaceful enough. We all hiked down to the depot right before noon to meet lil' brother and his family,” she explained.

“And she does mean everyone . . .” Samuel added. “Abby actually had Garrett's cowlick combed down and his face clean. Rebekah had her gang slicked up like military school cadets.”

“Sammy, don't exaggerate . . .”

“Lil' Sis and Carty even dressed up those three little princesses of theirs.”

“Where are your girls now?” Jamie Sue asked Dacee June.

“Thelma Speaker and Louise Edwards are with them.”

“Anyway,” Sam continued, “Daddy shaved, washed his hair, and put on a new boiled shirt for the occasion.”

“How's he doin', Sammy?” Robert pressed.

“Oh, you know Daddy.” Samuel stared down at his dirty boots. “He just keeps goin', no matter how he feels.”

Robert turned to Dacee June. “How's Daddy really doing?”

The near-permanent smile dropped off Dacee June's face. Her chin sagged. “He hurts every time he takes a breath, Bobby. You can see it in his face and his eyes. He doesn't hike up to Forest Hill any more.”

“Is that apartment over the hardware workin' out for him?”

“Yes, but some mornings Todd comes in and Daddy's asleep on the cot by the woodstove. He couldn't make it up one flight of stairs the night before.” Tears trickled down her cheeks.

Robert clutched Jamie Sue's hand.
Did I come to Deadwood just to watch Daddy die? Lord, maybe that's the real reason You drew us to this place.

“I trust you all are speaking kindly of me!”

A tall man with grayish-brown goatee and mustache strolled toward them.

Todd Fortune slipped an arm around Jamie Sue. She kissed his cheek. “Jamie Sue, where are Little Frank and the girls?”

She squeezed his hand. “At the school with the others, Todd.”

Todd stared out at the smoldering embers and slapped Robert's shoulder. “Well, lil' brother, just think . . . it's all yours!”

“From the description in your letters, I was expecting it to be in a little better shape.”

“Oh, no,” Todd protested. “Didn't I tell you it would need a little work?”

“Little? I don't think there is one thing that is salvageable!”

“The dirt didn't burn,” Samuel laughed. “You still got the dirt, Bobby.”

Todd glanced back at the women. “I suppose they told you about us all waitin' for you?”

“I was just describing it,” Rebekah said.

“Twenty of us were lined up at the depot when word came about a delay.” Todd pulled out a clean white handkerchief and handed it to Rebekah. She returned Robert's bandanna. “Something about a hold-up attempt?”

“What happened?” Samuel asked.

It was the first time Robert noticed he was the only one wearing a gun. “Three old boys tried to rob the train, that's all. But they were dispatched quickly enough.”

“Who stopped them?” Abigail asked.

“The Robert Fortune family,” Jamie Sue explained.

“No foolin'?” Samuel laughed. “Who were the hombres?”

“They called themselves the Wild Bunch,” Robert explained. “I never heard of them. They aren't friends of yours, are they?”

“Oh, no, not those.” Abby stepped over and slipped her arm into Samuel's. “That's the bunch of rustlers that hang around over near Sundance, Wyoming.”

“Are those the ones you stopped?” Dacee June prodded.

“I reckon. But it was a family activity,” Robert reported. “I clobbered one, the kids coldcocked the second, and Mama here shot the third one.”

Dacee June turned to Jamie Sue. “You did? You shot one! I think every Fortune woman has shot an outlaw, except me!”