The Outlaw's Kiss (an Old West Romance) (Wild West Brides) (10 page)

“No,” Mr. Bullock said. “Everything is fine. I
just need to ask him a few questions. You look pale, Miss James, are you
faint?”

I cooled my neck with a glass of iced water
briefly and regained my composure. “I’m fine, thank you. Just had a bit of a
spell.”

“If you need a doctor, I can escort you.”

“No, no need. Thank you, Mr. Bullock.”

He turned back to my father. “You’re sure you
haven’t seen him? Neither has Al Swearengen or that prospector who wears the
fancy hats. Your claim neighbor, whose name escapes me at the present.”

“Davis Clark?”

“There’s the one. Well,” he stood, brushing off
the table where he’d dirtied it with his dusty palms. “I apologize for
interrupting your meal. Thank you both.”

Mr. Bullock turned to leave, but I stopped him
with a light touch on the elbow. “I’m sorry to bother you, sheriff, but are you
going to look for him?”

Both men looked at me a bit dumbfounded. Father
had his suspicions about Eli and me, but as far as he knew, suspicions were all
they were. Seth, of course, was rather in the dark.

“I suppose I will. Can’t just leave matters like
this lying.”

“May I accompany you? I’d do well to take some air
after my faint spell. If you don’t mind, of course.”

“I may have to ask you to stand away when I speak
with Mr. Masterson. Legal business and all,” he said quickly when he saw my
confusion. “But I don’t mind the company. If, of course, your father this is
acceptable to your father, of course. I’d hate to tear you away from a pleasant
luncheon only to drag you around in the dirt. I fear the hem of your dress may
become soiled.” His voice was strained and hurried.

Father nodded. “We were just about finished
anyway. Could you escort her back to the house when you’re finished whatever
business you’ve got with Eli?”

“Yes sir, much obliged.” He turned to me, with a
dark look on his face. “You’re sure?”

I nodded and he lead me to the door, holding it
open for me, then offering his arm as we stepped into the street. “I don’t even
know what I’m looking for,” he said quietly to me. A horse slid by us, splashing
a bit of muck on his trousers. “Normal law work doesn’t happen very often in
this place. Usually things are well and settled, meaning someone has a bullet
in them, by the time I’m summoned.”

“Yes, sir,” I said with a grin. “I took your
meaning.” We strolled past a man being sick beside the Gem. Mr. Bullock drew my
attention away from the unfortunate fellow.

“How are you liking the camp? Present issue
excused, of course.”

“It’s all very new, still. I’ve spent a couple of
days with Father at the claim,” I paused to skirt around a muddy hole. “And
I’ve certainly become more nimble about dodging that sort of thing. I’ve met
people who simply don’t exist in the city. There are inconveniences, to be
certain, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“I’ve not known anyone so enthusiastic about
Deadwood unless they’d found a vein. Or a girl they like at the Gem.”

He clapped his hand over his mouth, but I laughed.
“It’s fine, Mr. Bullock. I’m a grown woman, and I live here. I’m aware of what
goes on. Mostly anyway. Father’s found some gold, though I’m sure Mr. Star’s
told you.”

“Actually, he hasn’t. Though with his recent
string of absences, I assumed something like that must be the case. Clara, look
out!” He pulled me to the side, lifting me off my feet and turning me about
like we were dancing.

As soon as he set my feet back on the ground, I
had to catch my breath a bit. “Well there’s something to write about, I
suppose. Why didn’t that man stop?” The carriage which had almost taken my head
off simply bobbled on down the road, hit a hole and just about pitched over
before righting itself.

“Unless I’m mistaken, the town doctor almost found
you.” He had an easy half-smile. “He didn’t mean nothing by it, I’m sure. Doc
Craig is a little distracted much of the time.” Mr. Bullock pushed his hat back
on his head and wiped his brow. “But at any rate, I can’t tell you how many
times I’ve almost been run down myself, and I’ve been here long enough to know
better.”

We walked in silence for a bit, past the camp’s
single launderer, a couple of buildings that looked to have stood empty for
some time, and a greengrocer’s stand. Before I knew it, we’d made almost a
complete circuit of the town with no sight at all of Eli.

“It’s a strange place, Deadwood. I never seen its
equal.”

“You were a lawman before, weren’t you, Mr.
Bullock? In Montana, I believe?”

“For a fact. And call me Seth. I don’t know why
I’ve let that go for so long.”

“Thank you, by all means, call me Clara.”

“Montana was my home for quite a time. Wait a
second,” he paused, staring across the street. “Don’t tell me that’s who I
think it is.”

I squinted against the slightly lowered sun, and
my stomach leapt into my throat.

My hands trembled, though I did my best to try and
pretend that wasn’t the case. “Is that Eli?”

Seth left me standing dumbly in the middle of the
street. “Sorry, Clara, please wait for me back there. Eli and I have some
business to attend,” he said with a vague wave toward the Gem. I stumbled to
one of the saloon’s horse ties and settled against it. Behind me stood that
monolith of sin, and in front, Eli and Seth drew near one another and exchanged
some loud words.

“You’re what? Arresting me for what?” Eli shouted.
“What’ve I done? You know me better than to think I set up some raid on the
camp, Seth!”

“Put your hands down, Eli. I know that I am
duty-bound to investigate whatever I’m told, and right now, I’m investigating a
claim implicating you in the Sioux raid on Deadwood three weeks past. You know
I can’t just ignore it.”

Eli was more flustered than I’d ever seen him,
even when he made his awkward admission of feeling. It wasn’t just frustration
I saw on his face though, it was hurt. He had the look of a man who had been
stabbed in the back.

“What are you saying, Seth?” Eli wrung his hands.
“How can you believe him over me?”

“Now, Eli,” Mr. Bullock moved nearer to Eli and
put his hand on his shoulder, speaking too quietly to hear.

“Where’s that book of yours? This’d be something
to write down.” It was a woman’s voice that broke my trance.

Surprised, I turned on my heel. “What’s that? I’m
sorry?” I stared blankly at the woman for a second. “You’ll have to forgive me.
I’ve forgotten your name. I’m awful at that sort of thing.”

“Tammy,” she said. “You never knew it. I was
mopping when you and your pa were in to get that place from Mr. Swearengen.”

“Yes, of course,” I said. I exhaled from somewhere
deep. Eli and Seth were still talking quietly. “This is unnerving me, I’m
afraid. I’ve not found myself in the middle of much excitement before, Miss
Tammy.”

“Just Tammy,” she said. “No
miss
business
when you’re talking to a whore. We don’t need that sort of formality around
here.” She exhibited a warm smile and surprisingly straight teeth. Tammy had a
warm look to her face that drew me in immediately. I admit that her brazenness
in wearing nothing but bloomers and a long shirt in the street scandalized me
somewhat, but I liked the honesty in her voice. “Anyway, this has been coming
for a while. I’m guessing from the way you’re glaring at them two that you know
the story? Eustace’n all that?”

“I do, but Eli gave me only the briefest of
explanations. She said something about the Comstock Lode and Mr. Rawls trying
to make off with in some kind of caper.”

“A ‘caper’, she says.” The other woman I’d
encountered before at the Gem emerged from the swinging doors. She had her grey
hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, and wore a harshly starched apron over
her high-necked dress. “Sugar, Eustace Rawls doesn’t have enough of a brain in
that thick skull of his to hatch a caper. I’m Gretchen if you don’t recall. I
think Al said my name around you. Since you’re a low enough sort of creature to
speak with Tammy, I assume you’re the sort I like.” The elder woman leaned near
a kerosene lamp and lit her cigarette. She pursed her lips, taking a lungful of
fragrant smoke and blowing it out in a thick cloud.

“Oh I don’t know about all that,” I looked down,
smoothed my skirts. “I don’t find Miss,” I caught myself. “I don’t find Tammy
to be base at all.”

“Base, she says. Oh we’ve got a charmer here.” She
exhaled another sweet smelling plume of smoke, then laughed, then coughed. “I
like you. Most women who come through this camp are either on the back of some
carriage destined for Oregon, as ugly as I am, or meant for Mr. Swearengen’s American
harem as he likes to call it. He says that’s good advertisement. Gives an air
of the exotic East.”

“I see, well, I’m flattered, Miss Gretchen, thank
you.” I said, not quite sure what to do, though very certain I enjoyed the
company.

“’Course, being as ugly as myself and joining Al’s
establishment, them things aren’t mutually exclusive you understand.”

I looked down again, laughing softly. “Yes ma’am,
indeed.”

“Seth, I can’t believe this!” Eli took to shouting
again. “You’re taking the word of that criminal! Over mine! We’re friends,
Seth! Why are you doing this?” By the time he began to rave at Mr. Bullock, the
few patrons who were drunk in the early afternoon shuffled out of the Gem to
catch a glimpse of the action. Joining them were the two barbers who kept a
shop opposite Bullock & Star hardware, four people from the inn and the inn
keeper himself.

In all, almost fifty people stood in a circle in
the middle of the dusty road watching my Eli fall apart before their eyes.
Eustace Rawls, I noted, was not among them. A shuffling sound overhead caught
my attention.

“You hate to see this sort of thing. Especially to
someone so plainly and obviously
un
crooked as Eli Masterson.” The voice
drifted down, between the planks above my head.

“Mr. Swearengen?” I looked up.

“None other. But don’t avert your eyes. Watch the
occurrence there in the street between your lover and the sheriff. This is, I
think, an act of desperation on the one hand, and of utter defeat on the
other.”

“Lover?” I said with a gasp, feigning shock. “I
don’t know what you’re talking about, I-”

“Do you make a habit of sitting across the lap of
someone while ahorse who you are not lover to?”

“No,” I said, flustered. “I don’t believe so. That
was to be kept secret.”

“Don’t worry. The goings on across the way is
distracting any ears from what I’m saying. There’s no reason to embarrass
either of you.” He fell silent for a time, pacing back and forth on his
balcony. Whenever I looked up at him, his eyes were fixed on Seth and Eli.

Gretchen got close enough that I could smell the
remainder of the cigarette she held in her slightly bent fingers.

Just about that time, Sheriff Bullock turned Eli
around. “Now, Eli,” he said loudly enough to hear, “I’m doing this because I
have to. Someone reported you had something to do with the Sioux raid, and so
the law of this territory says I
have
to investigate. No choice in the
matter.”

Eli struggled a bit as Seth put the shackles on
his wrists. Without even thinking about it, my hand went to my chest and I took
a deep breath, letting it out in a long shudder. “I don’t know what to say,” I
whispered.

“Don’t say nothin’,” Gretchen said softly. “Just
watch. It’s what he’s doin’.” She tilted her head upwards to indicate Mr.
Swearengen. “If he wanted he could put a stop to the whole thing, but he ain’t.
He’s just watching. This’d be a good time to find your little book and start
taking notes. Who is here, who ain’t here, that kind of thing. Just someone
being around can tell you a whole lot about a situation.”

I stared at her face. It was welcome respite from
watching my Eli being hauled off by his friend through a hostile crowd. Some
spat at him, some shouted horrible things, and someone even tried to haul off
and punch him, though Sheriff Bullock answered that with a swift unholstering
of his six-shooter. Shortly, Mr. Swearengen’s feet slid across his balcony
toward the door and he took a deep breath.

“Tammy, come up here. I’ve got an errand for you
to run,” he said.

“Yes sir,” Tammy gathered her bloomers about her
ankles and hopped into action. “Remember what Miss Gretchen said, young’un. You’re
not like to get better advice much of anywhere. She’s been around enough to
know what she’s sayin’.”

“Tammy!”

“Yes sir!” She retreated, swinging the door
closed.

“Clara!” It was Eli, shouting in a ragged voice as
Sheriff Bullock dragged him down the road. When I looked in his direction, he
shook Seth off. The sheriff didn’t try to stop him, and Eli didn’t try to run.
He stared at me, like he was trying to remember the details of my face.
“Remember what I said,” he shouted. “It never lies. Not ever.”

“Come on, Eli,” Mr. Bullock said, as he put his
hand on Eli’s shoulder and led him away.

My lips trembled so badly I couldn’t answer when
Gretchen spoke to me next, and my hands shook too much to hold my handkerchief
to my eyes. Tears rolled down my cheeks and all I wanted was to sit. To sit
with Eli, wherever he was, even in the jail, that’s what I wanted. To tell him
everything was going to be okay, that it would work out somehow.

“These things,” Gretchen said in her relaxed
drawl, “have a way of working out. Write in your little book. Write down what I
told you to. I learnt from the best.”

I squeezed my mouth closed, intent to stop my
blubbering. Gretchen patted my shoulder and turned to leave. I caught her
elbow. “Who? Learned from whom? About what?”

“She even says
whom
at the right times.
You’re a card, Clara. I learnt about how things work. I learnt from the best.
How to watch, how to see what’s going on behind the lines that try to obscure
things.”