by Sharon Sala
This time, Letty cried for the man who’d died, and not the one she’d killed. Even Eulis was hard-pressed to keep a straight face. When he died, he doubted a single man—or woman—would shed tears over his body. It was a soul-searching thought and one on which to end the occasion.
“Well now,” Eulis said, thumping the old trapper on the back. “It seems you’ve been a true friend to this man. Giving him a proper burial was a fine thing to do.”
“Oh hell,” Henry said, as he turned to catch his horse’s reins. “I didn’t bring him all this way just for a funeral. I brought him so that a real preacher could say the right words over his body. It’s what he always wanted. Now he can rest easy in heaven.”
With that, Henry Wainwright mounted and rode off. West out of Lizard Flats. Back toward the Rockies and his untended traps. He just hoped to hell that when he got there, the danged Indians hadn’t made off with them all.
Eulis couldn’t look at Letty, and Letty couldn’t find the words to say to make it right. Because of their deception, a man’s dying wish had not been fulfilled. And then Eulis had a thought.
“Well hell,” he said, and pulled at the brocade vest over his belly. “Maybe a real preacher didn’t say words over his body, but by God, he’s gonna spend eternity in the arms of one.”
Letty brightened. She hadn’t looked at it all that way.
“You’re right,” she said. “Come on. We’ve got to get back.”
“What for?” Eulis asked. “I done performed the wedding and buried the corpse. What else could possibly be left?”
Letty grabbed him by the arm and aimed him toward town. It only stood to reason there would be more who needed the services of a man of God. It didn’t occur to either of them that some might wonder why the town whore had taken it upon herself to be the escort for the preacher they’d waited so long to meet, and they were too busy trying to save their own hides to care.
Isaac Jessup sat on the bench in front of Matt Goslin’s general store, waiting patiently for the preacher to come back from the funeral on the hill outside of town. He knew the worthy reverend would be a busy man. He also knew that the preacher had already married some and buried another, but Isaac had his own urgent need for the man of the cloth.
He needed God to give a blessing on his one and only son. If he and Minna lost Baby Boy, she wouldn’t survive another burying. Truth was, he would lose her, too. And if he lost Minna, he might as well put a gun to his own head and do himself in while he was at it. Going on without her didn’t bear consideration.
While he watched for the preacher, Minna and Baby were inside the general store, marveling at the new-fangled goods that marked Lizard Flats as a place of unbelievable refinement. Even Isaac had been stunned to see real peaches in tin cans, and had been disbelieving of the marvel until Matt Goslin had opened a can right before their eyes and offered them all a bite.
Isaac leaned his head against the outer wall of the store and licked his lips. He could still taste the peach juice.
A horse neighed. He looked up. A man and a woman were walking down the sidewalk. Isaac took a deep breath and stood up. Although he’d never seen Reverend Randall Ward Howe in his life, he recognized the man by his clothing.
Just as Letty and Eulis thought they had things under control, a man stepped into their path.
“You’d be the preacher?”
It was more question than statement, but Eulis knew what the response demanded.
“Why, yes I am,” he said. “What can I do for you, my son?”
Isaac shifted his stance. He’d found the right man after all. The fellow even talked like a preacher.
“I reckon I’ll be needin’ you to baptize my boy,” he said shortly.
Eulis relaxed. Surely he could handle the naming of one small infant without causing a disaster.
“And where would the sweet child be?” Eulis asked kindly, hoping he sounded as fatherly as his position demanded.
Isaac turned toward the store. “Baby Boy! Minna! Come on out here! I found the preacher!”
Eulis gawked. He’d never heard a man shout that way at an infant in his life. His confusion increased when a strapping youth and a pretty woman came running from the store.
“Who are they?” Eulis asked, wondering where the baby was.
“That there’s my wife, Minna, and our son, Baby Boy.”
“But where is the child you want baptized?”
Letty elbowed him so hard he stumbled.
“That’s him, you dolt. She pointed at the tow-headed youngster at his father’s feet. “It’s got to be him. He called him Baby, remember?”
Eulis was sorely in need of a drink and an explanation. He didn’t get the drink, but he did get an explanation as Minna Jessup began to speak.
“We buried seven babies before this one here came along,” she said softly, and then combed her fingers through Baby Boy’s hair to smooth it down. “Isaac couldn’t bring hisself to name this one for fear of jinxin’ him, too. But Baby’s growed some, and he’s a mind to take a name, so we brought him along for you to give the blessing.”
Eulis swallowed a knot of panic. They want me to bless a child for good luck? Dear Lord, I haven’t had a run of good luck in so long, I wouldn’t know it if it ran up my ass and shouted whoopee!
Letty began to sweat. This was getting too complicated for words.
“Son, have you decided what you’re gonna call yourself?” Minna asked.
Baby Boy straightened up and stepped away from his mother’s touch. He needed to act like a man when he took a man’s name.
“I’m gonna call myself Isaac,” he said. “After my pa.”
Isaac felt the ground swaying at his feet, and then his spirit rose inside him so high that at that moment if he’d suddenly taken flight, he wouldn’t have been surprised.
“Why, Baby, I think that’s a wonderful idea.” Minna threaded her fingers through her husband’s hand and squeezed gently for comfort.
“Come on, preacher, let’s do it,” Isaac said suddenly. “Where do we go and what do we do?”
“We’ll be needin’ water to sprinkle on his head,” Minna said. She remembered seeing her younger sisters and brothers christened back home in Massachusetts.
“How ’bout some peach juice?” Baby Boy asked. “It was right tasty, and there’s plenty left in the can inside.”
Before anyone could stop him, he’d bolted for the store to retrieve the can from Matt Goslin, and not a grown-up among them could bring themselves to stop his intent. It was, after all, his christening. He should be able to have it done the way he wanted.
Eulis leaned against the hitching post to still his rolling belly. “This is a fine mess,” he whispered.
“Suck it up,” Letty whispered back, and goosed him in the ribs to make her point just as Minna turned to them and smiled.
Eulis wiped the sweat from his brow and nodded. “Right hot for this time of year, don’t you think?”
Minna smiled as Baby Boy came back with his juice.
Eulis accepted the can with all the dignity he could manage, and right there in the middle of the street in Lizard Flats, Baby Boy Jessup changed his name with a sprinkling of peach juice and the blessing of a man who, until yesterday, had only used the word of God in profanity.
“I christen thee, Isaac… uh, what’s your last name, sir?” Eulis looked to Isaac for an answer.
“Jessup.”
Eulis nodded and repeated. “I christen thee Isaac Jessup. And, uh… let no man put asunder.”
Letty groaned then muttered beneath her breath. “That’s for weddings you dolt.”
But the Jessups didn’t seem to mind. And when Eulis sprinkled another dollop of peach juice on the child’s head for good measure, there wasn’t a dry eye among the family from Crawler’s Mill.
For lack of something else to say, Eulis suddenly lifted the can of peach juice in a toast.
“To young Isaac Jessup,” he said, then took a sip fr
om the edge, careful not to cut his lip on the jagged opening.
As if it were every day that a preacher baptized with a can of peach juice, the can was passed from hand to hand with dignity as if it had been a magnum of champagne.
Each witness to Baby Boy’s emergence from the chrysalis of childhood into manhood sipped from the tin. When it came to Isaac, the father, he had to swallow tears before he could swallow the juice.
Eulis beamed. It was over and he hadn’t messed up yet. “Congratulations, young man. It’s been a pleasure to meet you.”
Baby Boy threw back his shoulders and tilted his chin. “My name is Isaac.”
Minna cupped the back of her son’s head. “Come along home, young Isaac. You and your pa have a lot of work to catch up on, and you’ve got a week’s worth of schoolin’ that you missed.”
“Yes, ma’am,” young Isaac said proudly.
“Yes, ma’am,” his father echoed, and winked at his wife.
About the time that the Jessup family was leaving Lizard Flats, Miles Crutchaw was pulling his team and wagon to a halt in front of the White Dove Saloon.
“Whoa!” he cried. The mules slowed and then stopped.
He wrapped the reins around the handbrake and then smiled down at the woman sleeping in his lap. Truly was not a woman accustomed to the trail, and had suffered greatly through the trip from Sweetgrass Junction to Lizard Flats. She’d been bounced and bruised until Miles had taken pity and cradled her on his lap.
As he watched her, Truly sighed and then started to stretch, and as she did, came close to falling out of her dress. The once-yellow satin was now nearer in color to dusty butter and her henna-red curls had come down long ago and hung around her face in wild abandon. The rouge that she wore on her cheeks and her mouth had long since disappeared. She’d never been so mussed, nor had Miles thought she’d been prettier.
“We’re here, Truly. Just like I promised. While you’re getting a bath and some new clothes, I’m gonna find us that preacher. Before we leave here today, you’ll be Mrs. Miles Crutchaw or I’ll know the reason why.”
Truly wiggled with joy. She’d never believed that a whore like her could be redeemed by the love of a good man, but she was about to change her mind. Right now, she’d lie down and die for Miles Crutchaw.
A man and a woman turned the corner and headed down the street toward Miles’s wagon. When he saw the white clerical collar around Eulis’s neck, he grinned.
“Hey Preacher!”
Eulis groaned beneath his breath. He wanted a drink and something to eat. But he could tell by the look on Letty’s face that it wasn’t about to happen. Not here. Not yet.
“Yes sir, I’m Reverend Howe.”
“I reckon I’ll be needing your services,” Miles said. “This here is Truly Fine, my fiancée.”
He pronounced the word, fi-ancy. Truly could have cared less. He loved her. He could call her mud for all she cared and it would make her no difference.
“We want to be married today. Got ourselves a long way to go and want to do this proper.”
Letty’s eyes widened. She tried not to stare, but it was impossible to stop. The big man in the wagon was dressed to the hilt. Fine clothes. Good leather on his shoes. A smile that was as bright as all outdoors. And he was sitting there claiming to be in love with Truly? Her friend, but still a whore in a yellow satin dress?
Truly’s chin went up. She saw the look of disbelief on the woman’s face, but at first didn’t recognize her old friend, Letty. The faded dress from Matt Goslin’s store window had gone a long way toward changing Letty’s appearance. Without the red satin and black fringe, her brown curls almost looked proper.
“I’ll be needing a bath first,” Truly said.
“And clothes,” Miles added. “Whatever she wants, she can have. Nothin’s too good for my Truly.”
Letty’s eyes teared with envy and remorse. She thought of her Jim, who lay rotting in his grave, and of the preacher that she’d killed, then she sighed. It was too late for her to realize her dreams. James Dupree was dead and so was the preacher, and she was in cahoots with the town drunk in the name of God and all He stood for. She looked away, believing that Truly didn’t want her man to know that they’d been friends. But once Truly was down off the wagon, Letty whispered in her ear.
“Truly, it’s me, Letty. Matt Goslin is down at a wedding. I’ll help you find some clothes and show you where you can bathe.”
“Letty? Is it really you?” Truly cried, and then promptly threw her arms around Letty’s neck and started to cry.
Concerned, Miles started toward her when Truly turned and hugged him next.
“Miles, this is my dear friend, Leticia Murphy. She and I worked together at the White Dove.”
Relieved, Miles grinned and held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Murphy. I trust that you’ll stand up for my Truly as her maid of honor?”
Letty gasped as if she’d been stomach punched as her heart filled with shame. She didn’t deserve such an honor. Could this day get any worse?
“Let’s hurry,” Truly said. “I’ve put this off far too long.”
Still pondering Truly’s good luck, Letty led the way while Truly tried to ignore the fact that Letty’s dress was faded in front and not in the back, then shrugged off the thought as no concern of hers. The only one who mattered in her life was Miles. She’d see to it that he spent the rest of his life with a smile on his face.
The store offered little in the way of choice, but a brown homespun with a narrow white collar and a fitted bodice suddenly became the most beautiful of dresses on Truly Fine.
Still damp from her borrowed bath, she pulled and tugged at the fabric, anxious to get back to Miles and bolted out of the back room of the general store with the last two buttons still undone. Letty followed in a daze, hoping that Eulis hadn’t disappeared on her.
When Miles saw her, the smile slid off his face. He inhaled slowly, amazed by her transformation. The worldly look was gone with the satin. The fussy red curls were pulled back from her face, giving her the appearance of a girl, rather than the woman she’d been for years.
“Oh my, Truly, you look just fine—truly fine.”
She grinned.
“I’m ready, Miles.”
He swooped her from the sidewalk and into his arms, twirling her around beneath the noonday sun and laughing at the dust that coated his boots and pant legs.
“Not half as ready as I am, girl. Not nearly by half.”
For the first time in her entire life, Truly Fine blushed.
“Preacher man. Do your thing,” Miles ordered, and set his blushing bride down beside him before she could change her mind.
“Here? You want me to marry you right here in the street?”
Miles shrugged at the preacher’s question. “Why not? One place is as good as another. Beside, it ain’t the place, it’s the woman that matters.”
At the vow of love, Letty couldn’t hold back. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She was sick at heart by the hand fate had dealt her.
“Stop sniveling, Letty, and hand me my book,” Eulis grumbled. Every time he looked at her, Letty seemed to be bawling. She should have the headache he had, then she’d have something to bawl about.
Letty did as she was told.
“Ashes to ashes… dust to…”
Letty kicked him in the shins. “That was for the buryin’,” she muttered. “This is a wedding, you dolt.”
It had ceased to matter to Letty or Eulis that anyone should think their banter strange. They were too busy trying to endure that which they had wrought.
“I knew that,” Eulis argued, and turned several pages in his book. He smiled benignly at Miles. “I had turned to the wrong page,” he said. “Please excuse me.”
Truly smiled and leaned against Miles’ massive arm. She didn’t care what page they were on as long as it got her married.
Eulis began. “Dearly beloved—,”And a few minutes later, he stood on the side
walk, watching with a bemused expression as the big man scooped his new wife into his arms and carried her to the wagon across the street without letting her feet touch the ground. Then to Eulis’s surprise, Miles Crutchaw came back.
“Here,” Miles said, and handed Eulis a small pouch.
“What’s this?” Eulis asked.
Miles grinned. “I reckon you could call it payment for services rendered.”
Eulis’s eyes brightened. He hadn’t thought about getting paid for any of this—only getting it over without being hanged.
“Well now, this is very thoughtful of you,” Eulis said. But when he peeked inside, the smile on his face froze. He gasped then poked a finger into the sack, just to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.
“Is this—”
Miles nodded. “Struck it rich a while back. Thought I ought to share some with the man who made my dream come true.”
“And that would be me?” Eulis asked.
“Thanks to you, Truly is now my wife.”
Eulis beamed. “It was my pleasure, I’m sure.”
Miles grinned. “I reckon we’ll be movin’ on,” he said. “It’s a ways to Dodge City.”
“Is that where you live?” Eulis asked.
“No. I’m thinkin’ of takin’ Truly to San Francisco. I here tell they’ve got a lot of refinement out there. Truly deserves to live like a lady. The west is hard on women, you know.”
Eulis kept fingering the pouch full of nuggets. Making small talk wasn’t easy for a man who hadn’t said much more than, ‘give me a drink,’ for the last ten years of his life. But the man had paid him in gold, and he felt obligated to visit until the man called it quits.
“So, Dodge City is just a whistle-stop on your way to bigger and better things is it?”
Miles shook his head. “Naw. But I heard tell that they’re hangin’ Kiowa Bill up there sometime next week. He once killed a friend of mine. Thought I might stay around long enough to see that.”
Miles Crutchaw’s voice faded away as Eulis’s head started to pound.
Kiowa Bill was in Dodge City. He was going to hang.
