Territory (38 page)

And that made her laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever been asked to a dance by a man wearing quite that expression.”

“I’m surprised it doesn’t happen regularly.”

“Are you certain you want to spend an evening in such irksome company?”

“Yes.”

“Then I accept. Thank you very much, Mr. Fox.” Before she turned toward the door of the
Nugget
office, she saw his face go blank with surprise.

“Jesse,” he called after her.

She gave him a nod and a smile of what she hoped looked like queenly condescension. It wasn’t until she was in the office and halfway to Harry’s desk that she understood what she’d done. She pressed her fingers to her lips.

“Oh, blazes.”

“What?” said Harry.

The fuller implications of what she’d done occurred to her suddenly, and she said, “Oh, hell!”
“What?”

“The Fourth is two days away.”

“Yes, it is,” said Harry.

Mildred dropped into a chair, weak with the magnitude of the problem she’d created. “I haven’t got a gown.”

“Mildred,” Harry said. She was suddenly aware that he was not smiling. He ought to be gloating at her, at the way he’d gotten her out of the office in the company of a personable young man. Instead he sat very still, his hands on the arms of his chair, his face stiff.

“What is it?” she asked.

Harry looked down at his knees, then back up. “The president’s been shot.”

Doc leaned back on his elbows and looked up into the willow leaves that fluttered overhead. “You were right. This is worth the trip.” They were at the foot of the Dragoon Mountains, in the mouth of a canyon that was probably too small to have a name, on the lip of a spring, likewise. The sound of the water trickling from stone to stone was like harp strings brushed with a feather.

Kate sat beside the picnic blanket, smiling at him, her flowered cotton dress pooled around her. If the prairies and the high desert had spawned mermaids, they would look like that. “Did you get enough to eat?”

“I may need another piece of cake in a while.”

“There’s only the one piece left,” she said, her eyes narrowing.

“I am not going to have to wrassle you for it, am I?”

One of her dimples showed, and he felt delight quicken his heartbeat. Her hand crept toward the basket.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he growled, and grabbed for her. Kate shrieked and laughed, and ended up as she’d probably planned, pinned under him on the blanket.

“All right,” she said. “You can have your cake.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I shall.” Slowly he lowered his lips to her throat, and heard her breath hiss in through her teeth. She arched beneath him.

He pretended to be lazy about it, and took his time, though she groaned and clutched at him and tried to hurry him up. His reward was the look of her afterward, flushed and sleepy and sated. She looked like he felt, in fact. But there were too many people in the world who disliked him for him to be comfortable dozing outdoors in broad daylight.

He put most of his clothes back on and took the last piece of cake out of the basket. Kate watched him under her eyelids, pouting. “A man has to keep up his strength,” he told her. She continued to pout. He grinned and held the cake out, and she took a bite. He watched her lick the crumbs off her lips. “You missed one,” he said, and leaned over to touch his tongue to the corner of her mouth.

They finished the cake like that, alternating bites and kisses. “A girl needs her strength, too,” Kate said when it was done.

“If you were any stronger, I would be frightened.”

Kate quirked her mouth at him and proceeded to dress.

“Oh, don’t do that,” Doc said.

“You wouldn’t want me to get a sunburn, would you?”

“No, I would not.” He watched her dress, enjoying her self-possession.

They’d been happy together since the fire. Doc didn’t want to inquire into the reasons. But he thought he could get used to being happy, being comfortable, even.

Kate settled down next to him, her hip against his. “Doc, this town’s getting to be pretty flat.”

“That can’t be, darlin’. Don’t you read Mayor Clum’s editorials? Why, Tombstone is the Paris of the West.”

Kate made a rude noise. “I’m damned glad John Clum is having a good time. But I’ll bet even Paris gets slow after a while.”

“Where would you rather be?”

He heard her keeping her voice light, her words casual. “Leadville sounds lively.”

“I had heard that.”

She turned abruptly to him. “Doc, why don’t we go? We could make an excursion of it. We wouldn’t have to stay away forever. Come on, we’ll have a good time.”

He looked into her eyes. Her voice was bright and cheery, but her eyes were begging. Kate never begged for anything. “I imagine you would be the queen of Leadville.”

“Hell with that. As long as I’m with you, I don’t care.”

“You’d like to go.”

She nodded, and he saw hope creep into her face. He could make her happy. The enormity of it, that he had this glorious woman’s happiness in his two hands, humbled him.

“All right. Leadville it is.”

“Oh, Doc!” Kate threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck.

“My God, you would think I’d given you diamonds.” The smell of her hair engulfed him.

“Maybe you have. Who knows what we’ll find in Leadville?”

“I doubt it will be a diamond mine.”

She laughed. “When do we go?”

“Not until after the Fourth.” Wyatt would just have to do without him for a while. He’d done it before.

“Why not?”

He tipped her head up and kissed her fiercely. “Because I have bought two tickets to the Fourth of July ball, and I plan to dance with you.”

She took his face between her palms and studied it. “All right, then. But after the Fourth—”

“After the Fourth,” he agreed.

 16 

Allie Earp answered her door, pushing a strand of hair off her forehead with the back of her wrist. Even that careful gesture left a smudge of flour behind. “Millie! Lord, what a nice surprise. Come on in.”

Mildred suddenly felt ashamed of herself. Allie had enough to do without taking care of Mildred, and certainly without anything as frivolous as this. But oh, how she wanted to concentrate on frivolity for an hour or two! The news from Washington was bad, but inconclusive; Harry had taken to hovering around the telegraph office, waiting for reports on President Garfield’s condition.

She clutched her muslin-sheet-wrapped burden closer, and heard the taffeta inside whisper. “No, you’re working. I’ll come back some other time.”

“Gracious, no, I’m playin’. Virge is partial to sweet things, so I’m surprisin’ him with an angel cake.”

“I should let you get back to it.”

“It’s in the oven. Now come on, we’re letting flies in.” Allie peered at the bundle in Mildred’s arms.

Mildred looked down at it herself. Sunlight caught the crystals even through the muslin, and they winked at her.

So she stepped into the little parlor. “I’ve got myself in a fix, Allie. I’ve been invited to the July Fourth ball.”

Allie’s eyes got big. “Who by?”

“I don’t think you know him. His name is Jesse Fox.”

Allie squeaked and clapped her hands together. “Sure I do! The horse tamer!”

“Horse tamer?”
I don’t even know what he does for a living,
Mildred realized.

“He broke that bay of ours to drive in an afternoon. Lord, Millie, it was like the man with the lions at the circus. You’d think he’d put a spell on that horse.”

“Gracious.” Mildred sat down. “I wish I’d seen it.”

Allie frowned with remembering. “He was nice and polite. Handsome, too. Careless of his clothes, but men mostly are.”

Mildred could personally recall several instances of Jesse Fox being less than faultlessly dressed. She grinned, and hoped it would pass for a response to Allie’s words. “Speaking of clothes—that’s my fix. I had a perfectly decent evening gown, until the house burned down. Lucy Austerberg gave me this one,” Mildred said, hoisting the bundled dress, “but it needs to be altered to fit, and you’ve seen what I’m like with a needle.”

“Mighty good of her,” Allie said stiffly.

“I know she’s a terrible gossip. But she’ll empty her pantry for someone in trouble.”

Allie sighed. “Lord knows she just says what everybody else does. And it’s not so hard, knowing we’ve true friends out there.” She smiled shyly at Mildred.

Mildred recalled Wyatt Earp with Sadie Marcus in the ice cream saloon. He stirred up talk, and the Earp women had to listen to it. “I went to all the dressmakers in town, but they’re busy straight through until the ball, no time even for alterations. So I thought of you—but it’s awfully short notice, and you’re …” Mildred waved a hand around the parlor, trying to include house, chores, and husband in the gesture.

“Depends on how fussy it is to fit. Let’s see this dress.”

Mildred unwrapped the sheet. Allie’s mouth formed an “O,” but no sound came out. Finally she said, “I better go wash my hands.”

While Allie washed, Mildred looked down at the mass of changeable taffeta in her lap. It was brown and black by turns, shifting from one to the other as the folds of fabric moved. The color made her think of black coffee.

Allie bustled back in and scooped the pieces of the gown out of Mildred’s lap and laid them over the furniture. The cap-sleeved bodice opened down the front with tiny faceted jet buttons, on an overlaid panel of black reembroidered lace. The lace was sewn with crystals and edged with black satin cord. The overskirt had a pointed apron of the same black lace, glittering with crystals and edged with silk floss fringe; black silk cord and tassels appeared and disappeared in the folds at the back. The hem of the skirt was trimmed with knife pleats and satin cord. The three pieces, spread out in Allie’s parlor, looked exotic as an orchid. It was the sort of dress Mildred had dreamed of owning, when she was a debutante looking forward to wearing the sophisticated gowns of a married lady.

“My goodness,” Allie said, smiling softly at the parts of the dress. Then she
gave her head a shake, as if waking herself up. “You scoot across the street and fetch Lou and Mattie. Tell ’em to bring their silk pins.”

For the next half hour Mildred stood in the Earp parlor in various stages of undress while the Earp ladies tucked, pinned, and marked around her.

Finally Allie and Lou carried in the cheval mirror from the bedroom and set it in front of Mildred.

She was entirely held together with pins, and afraid to move for fear of being pricked to death. But the woman in the mirror didn’t look stiff or self-conscious. Beside the dark fabric her skin was creamy, and her hair showed sparks of red in the brown.

“You look like a queen of Spain,” Lou said proudly.

“If I get any compliments, I’m going to point across the room to you three and say, ‘Those are my fairy godmothers.’ ”

“Oh, we won’t be at the dance,” Allie replied, her voice flat and firm. Mildred glanced at the other two Earp women. Mattie was rolling up a tape measure with more than necessary care. Lou stood with her arms folded.

“Wyatt doesn’t like for me to go out much,” Mattie said quietly, to her lap. “He says Tombstone’s a rough town, and men wouldn’t show me proper respect.” Then she raised her head and met Mildred’s eyes. Hers were full of pain and pride.