Wicked Wyoming Nights (41 page)

“I don’t suppose I should be saying anything, not living anywhere near town,” said Cord, taking advantage of a momentary lull, “but since it looks like neither side is going to budge, maybe some of us outsiders will be the ones to decide the issue.

“As you all know, there’s a good bit of bad feeling between the big ranchers and the little ranchers and homesteaders. It’s been a dividing factor in this county for nearly two years, and it’s getting worse. Each seems to think the other is out to ruin him, and the two camps regard each other with open hostility. The big ranchers gather down in Cheyenne. The folks here gather in the saloons and talk of nothing but their wrongs, imagined slights, and what can be done to get even.

“This talk is bad at any time, bad for the men, bad for the community, but it’s especially bad when the men doing the talking are too drunk to think straight. If everyone had at least one day to look at things with unclouded judgment, maybe this situation could be defused.” Cord paused a moment. “I think it would be mighty interesting if Miss Smallwood would tell us what she thinks,” he said, and sat down.

Eliza nearly jumped out of her skin. After what had happened between them, she was surprised Cord had any interest at all in her opinions. She had only attended the meeting at her uncle’s insistence, and hadn’t given the matter any serious thought, yet a brief look around showed everyone was waiting for her to speak. She rose to her feet desperately trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make her look like a fool.

“Mr. Stedman referred to outsiders, and that’s very much how I feel,” she began tentatively, “but I suppose people are the same everywhere, and their problems aren’t much different. Maybe there is a way each side can give up a little in order to keep what’s most important.” Eliza paused, hardly daring to put the barely formed idea into words.

“Is it possible for the saloons to remain open on Sunday”— the murmur from the women nearly drowned her out—"but not serve spirits?” Now it was the men’s turn to mutter. “The merchants could still make money, the citizens would still have a place to eat and sleep, and the ladies would be confronted by none but sober men.”

“Why didn’t we think of that?” Ella asked. “It’s so simple one of the men could have come up with it.”

“Let’s have none of that, Ella,” said Sanford, taking charge. “I think Miss Smallwood has given us an excellent suggestion.”

“But we make twice as much money on liquor as everything else put together” protested one owner.

“You won’t get a dime if we set a match to that firetrap you run, Craig Little,” snapped Ella, “Take what you can get before we overturn the whole table in your lap.”

Naturally that exchange couldn’t be taken lying down, and it was several minutes before Sanford could be heard. However, when Colonel Davis, the commander of the army fort outside of town stood up, the noise abated quickly.

“I’m not a local citizen either, but since my soldiers are some of the most frequent patrons of your saloons, I think you should know I’m being forced to consider placing Buffalo off limits, at least during the weekend. I don’t blame anyone here, but I can’t afford to have my men coming back too drunk to be of any use.”

A stunned silence fell over the gathering. There were only a couple of hundred soldiers at the fort, along with the wives and children of some of the officers, but the money they spent was a major prop to Buffalo’s economy. Without it, some businesses would close up. Taking advantage of the silence, Sanford stated Eliza’s suggestion as a motion, and it was voted on and accepted with only the most diehard holding out. There being no further business to discuss, they broke up into groups of like views, each determined to hold to its position while trying to belittle the opposition.

“That was an admirable speech, Miss Smallwood,” said Sanford, cornering Eliza. “But then one expects a school teacher to be an arbiter in this kind of debate.”

“Brains are where you find them,” Ella told Sanford. “It’s got nothing to do with teaching school.”

“You were most impressive, Miss Smallwood,” Jessica agreed primly. “I can see why the children admire you so much.”

“I can see other reasons for her popularity,” Cord said, coming up. “At least with the boys.”

“That doesn’t account for the success of her female pupils,” Jessica said austerely.

“Don’t fool yourself into thinking it’s not easier for a girl to be taught by a pretty face than one screwed up like a sour prune,” Ella declared. “I can still remember the green persimmon who tried to terrorize me into learning my letters. Gave me such a distaste for books I can’t stand to read more than a mail-order catalog to this day.”

“A lot of women in Buffalo must have gone to the same school,” noted Mr. Burton, chuckling.

“It’s time to bid our guests good evening,” Jessica said, bearing her husband away.

“Sanford won’t be allowed to forget
that
remark any time soon,” Ella declared.

“I’m surprised he supported our side,” said Eliza.

“He thought it was the best he was likely to get,” Cord explained. “Things have been getting a little rough lately, and it’s not at all unlikely the ladies could have voted to close the saloons altogether. Since they vote in a block, he wasn’t at all certain of the outcome.”

“Is everything always decided by money?” Eliza asked, dismayed.

“No. Sometimes it’s an unfortunate misunderstanding or a bad combination of circumstances—” Cord began.

“Or not knowing when to leave well enough alone,” Ella finished up for him.

“You don’t have to talk for him, Ella. I know what he’s talking about.” Eliza colored, and then continued. “I know I sometimes don’t understand why people act the way they do, but I have come to realize there is more than one way to look at everything.”

“And …” prompted Ella.

Eliza hesitated, and then faced Cord squarely. “Do not take this to mean I have changed my position, but I am aware I have been unfair to you. Your kindness to Sam and Susan and your sensitive stating of a very difficult situation prove that beyond question. Now I must go. Uncle Ira has threatened to come after me if I’m late.”

Ella trod on Cord’s toe before he opened his mouth. “Won’t you ever learn when to shut up?” she whispered urgently as Eliza moved away.

“But she practically said she was changing her mind,” Cord pointed out.

“I know what she said. I’m not deaf. Neither am I fool enough to go rushing at her and scaring her off again.”

“You think I was going to scare her?”

“Do you deny you were bursting your buttons to ask her to marry you?”

“I guess so,” Cord admitted, smiling so charmingly a woman across the room who thoroughly disliked Ella almost decided to come over and inquire after her corns.

“You know you were, just like before when you couldn’t wait to shove Ira’s guilt in her face. Let her alone. She’s as shy as can be, but she’s not a frightened little girl anymore. You push her too far, and she’s capable of leaving Wyoming altogether.”

“But what would she do?”

“With her looks and voice she could perform almost anywhere she wants. Any place has got to be better than singing in a saloon in Buffalo, Wyoming.”

Cord watched Eliza intently as, across the room, she said good night to Jessica. “She won’t leave,” Cord said finally.

“No, I don’t think she will either, though the thought has crossed her mind, but neither will she jump through your hoop. She knows she can make her own way now, alone if she has to.”

“No matter what way she has to make, she’ll never do it alone,” Cord replied.

Chapter 30

“Do you think you can talk him into it, Sam?” asked one of several men gathered around the cookstove in Sam’s old cabin on one bitterly cold afternoon. The little stove glowed bright red in its effort to heat the small room.

“How do we know we can trust him?” objected another.

“When are you people ever going to learn?” Sam asked in disgust. “Stedman was just where you are when he bought the Matador, but he’s a lot smarter, he works a lot harder, and he’s gambled everything he has over and over again to build up his spread. Sure he’s a big rancher now, but has any of you ever forgotten what it was like to ride roundup for somebody else?”

“Of course we haven’t, but Cord’s never been one of us. He keeps to himself, and nobody’s at all sure where he stands on things.”

“He keeps to himself because he’s too busy to stand around talking. Besides, what do you expect a man to do when you back away every time he comes up to the bar.”

“Who wants to drink with a man who hardly says two words and stares at that singer like there weren’t nobody else in the room?”

“And if you say something he doesn’t like, he looks like he’s going to take you apart right there.”

“You’re making a big mistake not to trust him,” Sam insisted.

“Why should we trust
you
? You’re taking his money? You’re even living in his house.”

“And I’m also taking Croley Blame’s money,” Sam said, aware every one present knew of Croley’s attempt to steal Cord’s herd on Christmas day, “but I don’t see any of you accusing me of taking his side.”

“I don’t trust Blaine either.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m saying you’re a fool to keep distrusting Stedman just because he’s got more cows than you. You’ll never find a better leader for your roundup.
He’s
not about to back down before rustlers or the Association foremen, and if you think they’re not going to come down on you when they hear you’ll be dividing up the mavericks, then you don’t know the Association.”

“Well, I’m still not sure. I heard tell he attended a ranchers’ meeting in Burton’s office last week.”

“If you heard that much, you ought to know he walked out on them. Go ask Burton’s clerk. The man’s dying to tell it to anyone who’ll stand still long enough.”

“I say we ask him,” argued the first speaker. “Even if he does tell the Association, we haven’t lost anything. They’re going to hear it from somebody the minute it’s announced, and there’s nobody better able to stand up to that bunch of crooks than Stedman. And I’ll tell you something else. I intend to ask him to take my steers to the railhead along with his this year. Those Association inspectors don’t dare impound his herd and they know it. I’m still owed money for beeves I sold eighteen months ago. The only reason I haven’t gone under yet is I borrowed money from Burton at enough interest to keep both his wife and daughter in furs.”

“Then you want me to talk to him?” Sam asked. There was a discontented rumbling and a reluctant assent. “Make up your minds. I’m not sticking my neck out and having you change your minds. You need Stedman, but he can do without you.”

Realizing the bitter truth of that statement, the men agreed to invite Cord to lead their independent roundup, thereby dividing northern Wyoming into two hostile camps.

“But I don’t know anything about contracts.”

Eliza was in a quandary. Lucy had come up twenty minutes earlier to tell her a theatrical agent was downstairs and insisted upon hearing her sing before he would even begin to talk about terms.

“They don’t ever want to give you more than they have to. Make sure you do your best. Then tell him you want twice what he offers.”

“I wouldn’t know what to ask for.”

“Then you let me do the talking. I know all about what to do.”

“I imagine it will take a lot of money for both of us to live.”

“You mean you’re taking me with you?”

“I’d be lost without you.”

“The agent will take care of you,” Lucy said, trying to hide her pleasure.

“I can’t trust a stranger.”

“You can’t trust anybody if he’s a man,” Lucy stated unequivocally. “Now you get warmed up while I’ll talk to this fella and find out just what he’s got in mind.”

Eliza wasn’t at all sure she wanted to go East. At first it seemed like a good way to get away from Cord, but she hadn’t been wanting to get away from him so very much lately. Now that an agent was actually downstairs and she was faced with what leaving Buffalo would mean, she didn’t know if she had enough courage to go to Chicago and meet all those strange people, even if it did help her to keep from thinking about Cord all the time.

But she knew she wouldn’t forget him, not even if she traveled to every major city in the country. The more she thought about it, the less important their differences seemed to be.

The night he ruthlessly exposed her uncle and threatened Sam and Susan, he became a veritable demon in her eyes; he was awful, terrible, and she wanted nothing else to do with him. But when he let them invade his house to have Susan’s baby and then gave Sam a job, he unquestionably blunted the cutting edge of her anger and disappointment. Seeing him at Mrs. Burton’s meeting only stoked her great physical hunger and reminded her of how much she longed to be in his arms. She had no doubt that, in time, her heart and body would overrule her mind.

And it didn’t help to have Susan Haughton singing his praises until Eliza almost dreaded to see her coming. Living in Cord’s house and sharing confidences with Ginny, Susan knew how deeply he felt about Eliza and how greatly he suffered, and she had made it her special duty to mend the rift between them. Every time Susan came into town to supervise the construction of her new house, she took the opportunity to launch another attack on Eliza’s crumbling defenses.