Long Road to Cheyenne (3 page)

By the time they rolled into Hat Creek Station, the sun was already poised on the horizon, preparing to settle down in the hills to the west. They were met by Fred Johnson, who was the acting manager in the absence of John Bowman or Joe Walters, the men who built the ranch. “You folks are running a little late, ain’t you?” Johnson asked when greeting them. Taking note of the two bodies atop the Concord coach, he commented, “You’ve took to haulin’ some unusual freight.”

“I reckon you could sure ’nough say that,” Bob replied as he climbed down from the seat. “One of them bodies up there is Wilbur Bean. He was ridin’ messenger. The other’n is a passenger. I reckon we’ll have to put ’em in the ground. I’ll notify the office about the passenger, and they can contact his family. Then if they wanna come dig him up and have a funeral, that’s up to them. Poor ol’ Wilbur, he ain’t got no family that I know of.” He went on to tell Fred about the holdup. “The young feller on the buckskin is Cam Sutton. If he hadn’t come along when he did, you and me wouldn’t be talking about it right now.”

Bob took it upon himself to get Mary and the girls settled in a room in the hotel while Cam helped Larry with the horses and the coach. There was the matter of the two bodies lying atop the coach that would have to be dealt with, but the first thing to do, after Mary was settled, was to notify the office in Cheyenne about the robbery and the deaths that resulted. Fred Johnson went with Bob to the telegraph office to send the message.

Cam had been to the stage station half a dozen times over the past couple of years, and he knew the hotel had a good cook. In addition to the hotel, there was a telegraph office, a post office, a bakery, a grocery, a blacksmith, and even a small brewery. It always seemed like a regular city to him with little else to be desired. Built below a ridge of pine-covered hills separating the high plain from the valley at the foot of those hills, it was not really located on Hat Creek. Back in 1875, some army troops were sent from Fort Laramie to establish a fort on Hat Creek in Nebraska to protect travelers from Indian attacks. The soldiers never got to Nebraska, but thought they had when they reached Sage Creek in Wyoming Territory. They called it Hat Creek anyway, and set up their camp. It never did develop into a fort, but it had turned into a fine stagecoach station now that the Indian threat was reduced and the Black Hills were open to prospectors.

“Let’s go get ourselves some supper,” Bob sang out when he returned from the telegraph office.

“Since we’re so late, I thought we might skip it tonight,” Larry said, and winked at Cam. He couldn’t help japing his partner a little, knowing full well that Bob Allen would never swing through Hat Creek without visiting the hotel dining room. The little Japanese woman who ran the kitchen had caught his eye. Atsuko was the lady’s name, and Bob got all tongue-tied whenever he tried to have a conversation with her. She seemed to know it and made a point of sidling up to his table and talking to him whenever he came in.

“Suit yourself,” Bob advised him. “Damned if I’m gonna skip supper. I’ve had a busy day. I need some vittles.” He then turned to Cam. “I know a young feller like you can always eat, so come on, I’ll gladly buy your supper. I owe you a helluva lot more than that.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Cam insisted. “You’da helped me if it had been the other way around.” He flashed a wide grin. “But I’ll take you up on the supper.”

“Good,” Bob said, “let’s go, then.” He threw a hand up on Cam’s shoulder as they started out toward the hotel. “I expect you’ll want a room for the night, too.”

“Ah, no.” Cam hesitated. “I don’t need a room. I expect I’ll just find a place in the barn to bed down.” He had to conserve what cash he had, so he didn’t intend to squander any of it on a hotel bed.

Bob suspected as much but refrained from expressing it for fear of embarrassing him. “Sometimes the hotel rooms
can
get a little stuffy this time of year. You’re welcome to bunk in the coach if you wanna.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” Cam quickly accepted. As far as he was concerned, that was almost as plush.

“Might as well put your horse in the stable,” Larry suggested, “feed him some grain. Fred can put it on the company’s bill.”

“Much obliged,” Cam said.

“You watch ol’ Bob when we get in there,” Larry whispered to Cam.

All three men nodded respectfully toward Mary Bishop, who was already seated at a table with Grace and Emma. She acknowledged the greetings with a pleasant smile. Bob headed straight for a table opposite the kitchen door and seated himself so as to be able to see partway inside. He turned his plate, which had been lying facedown, over, tied the ends of his napkin around his neck, and waited anxiously. In a few minutes, a small, trim Oriental woman emerged from the kitchen carrying a large metal coffeepot. She smiled in their direction as she passed by on her way to fill Mary’s cup. Bob’s eyes followed her every step of the way. Larry nudged Cam and motioned toward his partner, grinning.

“Ah, Mr. Allen,” Atsuko drew out in a voice almost lyrical when she came to their table. “You come to see us again.” Larry nudged Cam again. He was thoroughly enjoying Bob’s reaction. “Do you want coffee?” Atsuko asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Bob replied, almost choking on his tongue.

Larry chuckled openly. “We do, too, ma’am, me and Cam here.” All three turned their cups over to be filled.

“You want steak?” Atsuko asked Bob. “You always want steak.” He nodded, unable to organize his words to form a reasonable answer.

“I’ll have the same,” Larry announced loudly. “How ’bout you, Cam?” When Cam nodded, Larry went on. “With whatever else goes with it.” She spread a smile around for the three of them, then headed for the kitchen.

Once the woman was out of his presence, Bob found his tongue again. “That’s a mighty fine-lookin’ woman there, from China or someplace.”

“Japan,” Larry corrected. “She’s Japanese.”

“Don’t make no difference,” Bob said. “She’s a real looker, and her cookin’s hard to beat. You can’t ask for much more than that in a woman. Ain’t that right, Cam?”

“Reckon not,” Cam replied, “maybe if she was rich to boot.”

Bob chuckled and said, “You got that right. I wonder why she ain’t got no old man. I bet she ain’t much younger than me. Some feller oughta be lookin’ to throw a rope on her.”

“That wouldn’t be you,” Larry teased. “She can’t be that desperate.”

“I don’t know about that,” Bob replied with a mischievous grin. He reached up with a finger to smooth his mustache, then removed his hat and hung it on the back of his chair. Running his fingers through his thick gray-streaked hair, he commented, “She just needs to meet a distinguished-lookin’ gentleman like myself. Then she’d see what she’s been missing all her life.” He took a long sip from his coffee cup while Larry snorted a laugh. “Damn,” he exclaimed, making a face, “that coffee’s strong enough to float a horseshoe. Slide that sugar bowl over this way.” He dropped two heaping teaspoons of the sugar into his coffee and proceeded to stir it vigorously. “Maybe that’ll cut the bitter just a little.” He glanced at Cam then and asked, “Want some sugar in yours?”

“No, thanks,” Cam replied. He had never become accustomed to using sugar in his coffee, primarily because sugar had always seemed to be in short supply when driving cattle or riding the range. Further conversation on the quality of the coffee was interrupted when Grace Bishop got out of her chair and walked over to their table.

Tapping Cam on the shoulder, she said, “Mama would like to talk to you.”

“Right now?” Cam asked.

Grace shrugged. Her mother hadn’t specified when. She looked back at Mary as if hoping for an answer. “I don’t know,” she finally said.

Cam smiled. “All right, I’ll go over and talk to your mama.” He picked up his cup and followed Grace back to her table.

“Look out, Cam,” Larry whispered. “That woman mighta come out here lookin’ for a husband.”

“Watch your mouth,” Bob scolded. “Young’uns her age has got ears like a coyote. Besides, that lady might like a man a mite older than Cam, anyway.” He smoothed his mustache again and smiled. “If she was lookin’ for a husband, she’da most likely called me over to her table.”

“Did you need to talk to me?” Cam asked when he approached the table.

“Yes, I do,” Mary responded. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your supper, though. I should have told Grace that I just meant sometime before you decided to leave.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cam said, “just whenever you say. It’s no interruption. She ain’t even brought my supper yet.”

Mary hesitated for a second, then suggested, “Why don’t you sit down here for a moment? What I have to say won’t take long.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He pulled the empty chair back and sat down facing her.

“I haven’t heard you say where you’re going, or what you plan on doing,” she began. “But I’ve been thinking about a business proposition that I’d like to hear your opinion of. I’m gambling here on a gut feeling about you, a feeling that you’re an honest man. It’s not a good idea for a woman and two young girls to travel alone in the country I’m bound for.” She paused. “This terrible incident we just survived served to emphasize that fact. I’m determined to make my way to a little camp named Destiny. According to the map my husband sent me, it’s about six miles from Custer City. That’s why I want to talk to you. I have enough money to buy horses and supplies when we get to Custer City, and maybe enough left over to hire a guide to help me find Destiny. I’ve worried some over how I might find a man I could trust to guide me and help protect my family. I think you’re such a man. Please tell me I’m right.”

Her proposal certainly took him by surprise, and he had to stop and think about it for a few moments. “Well, yes, ma’am, you can trust me, all right, but if you don’t mind me askin’, how come you’re travelin’ up here by yourself? Where’s your husband?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Sutton. I received a telegram from him over three months ago, saying he was going to come home. He never did, and I haven’t heard from him since. I’m hoping to find him, because he would have let me know if there was a reason he changed his plans. I fear something terrible has happened, and I need someone to help me. Will you?”

He hesitated while he tried to decide if he wanted to consider it or not. After a moment or two, he said, “To tell you the truth, I ain’t sure where I was headed, or what I was gonna do when I got there. I just figured I’d decide when I did get there.” He hesitated again, and turned to look back at Bob and Larry when Atsuko came from the kitchen with three plates of food. Unwilling to let his steak get cold, he quickly decided. “Well, like I said, I was just gonna do whatever landed in front of me, so I reckon goin’ to Destiny with you and these young ladies is what came up. I’ll do it.”

“Excellent,” Mary said, greatly relieved. “Now go back and eat your supper before it gets cold. We’ll talk about your pay and anything else we need to after supper.” She smiled warmly and extended her hand to shake on the deal.

Cam returned to his table and sat down to eat his supper, ignoring the pair of grinning faces beaming expectantly up at him, eager for a report. He took knife and fork in hand and sawed off a generous hunk of beef. “Pass me that shaker of salt,” he forced through the mouthful of tough steak.

“Pass me the salt, hell!” Bob responded impatiently. “What the hell was that little social all about?”

“Yeah,” Larry chimed in. “Me and Bob noticed that lady lookin’ you over a couple of times. She lookin’ for a daddy for them girls? She’d be a little too much for you, wouldn’t she? I mean, with a couple of young’uns already hatched.”

“Yeah,” Bob agreed. “She’d do better lookin’ at a man like me.” He cocked his head and winked. “You know, she ain’t a bad-lookin’ woman. I wouldn’t kick her outta the covers, and that’s a fact.”

Cam put his knife and fork down but continued chewing the tough bite of meat for a moment while his eyes shifted from one expectant face to the other, then back again. He rose halfway from his chair to reach across the table and grab the saltshaker. Seated again, he finally spoke. “I swear if you two don’t beat all I’ve ever seen. That lady ain’t lookin’ for nothin’ like that. She wants to hire me to guide her and her daughters to someplace outside Custer City, someplace she called Destiny. You ever hear of it?”

Larry shook his head, and Bob replied, “Can’t say as I have. It couldn’t be a very big place. What does she wanna go there for?”

“Lookin’ for her husband, I reckon—said we’d talk more about it tomorrow.”

“You gonna do it?” Bob asked, no longer joking.

“I reckon,” Cam answered with a shrug. “I ain’t really got nothin’ else to do.”

“Well, I think it’s a damn good idea,” Bob said, completely serious now. “That nice lady and them two little girls ain’t got no business headin’ off into the hills without no protection at all.” He turned to look at Mary and her daughters when another thought entered his mind. When he turned back, he looked at Larry and asked, “Bishop, ain’t that the name of that feller that got shot in that holdup near Cheyenne Crossin’ a little while back?”

“Mighta been,” Larry replied with a shrug while he gave it more thought. “Come to think of it, it was Bishop, same as hers. You reckon she’s kin?”

Bob gave it another few moments’ thought, then decided. “Nah, I doubt it. There’s a heap of folks name of Bishop.”

Mildly curious, Cam asked, “What happened at Cheyenne Crossin’?”

“Like I said,” Bob replied, “a couple of fellers held up the stage a few miles north of the Crossin’. Johnny Peaks was drivin’ it. He said they wasn’t carryin’ anythin’ but passengers—wasn’t even drivin’ one of the big coaches. Johnny said one of ’em was carryin’ one of them big ol’ Sharps buffalo rifles. Anyway, they made ever’body get outta the coach, and they took whatever the passengers had on ’em. They didn’t get much and I reckon it riled the two bandits, because the one totin’ the Sharps turned it on one of the passengers, this feller named Bishop, and blew a hole through his chest big as your fist. Then they jumped on their horses and lit out. Johnny said there wasn’t no particular reason to shoot the feller. He didn’t say anythin’, just turned his pockets inside out like everybody else. I reckon they just didn’t like his looks.”