The Adventures of Dixie Dandelion

by R. H. Burkett

  “You mean your mama saw Cinnamon in a vision?”

  “Seen her in a dream. Told me when I was just a little scraper I’d grow up and marry a woman with skin the color of creamed coffee, soft doe eyes, and teeth whiter than snow. She said I’d know the minute I took hold of her hand that we was destined to be together. That it was written in the stars.”

  “Your mama ever wrong?”

  His eyes got as round as dinner plates. Got the feeling I’d just insulted him big time.

  “Mama was never wrong.”

  Huh. Written in the stars. I remembered Spotted Owl’s story of the star lovers. About Jackson and me. Maybe there was more truth in that story than myth.

  “Dixcee. Come see. The house is magnifque.”

  Cinnamon bounced across the yard like one of those strange kangaroo animals I’d seen once in a picture book. Face flushed with excitement. Bright eyes shining like new pennies. Sure footed as a mountain goat. I saw Inky try to stifle a grin. Right then and there I knew Cinnamon’s little twisted ankle ruse hadn’t fooled him one bit. Oh the games lovers play.

  Why Cinnamon thought the house was magnificent was beyond me. Buckets of dirt everywhere, rats’ nests in every corner, and a smell that’d make a polecat turn tail and run slapped me full in the face.

  “Cinnamon, you’re loco. I’ve seen inside of caves better than this.”

  “Is because you look with your eyes, cheri. You must see with your heart. Here. I will show you. Take my hand.”

  She led me from room to room starting with the bedroom. “The rooms are full of, how you say? Possibilities? Rich curtains, a canopy bed, mirrors, and viola. A bedchamber fit for a queen. The sitting room with soft couches, rocking chairs, pillows, and a thick rug will soften the hard wood feel. Make a comfortable home. Oh Dixcee, you will see. We will scrub and sweep. I will help. No?”

  “It does sound good, but where am I going to get frilly curtains and rugs? Not to mention all that furniture?”

  “Is no problem. I am sure Peg will give you what you need.”

  “From the White Dove? Doubt it. She needs all that stuff.”

  “Oh, I forget. You do not know.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. “Know what?

  “Dixcee, I am sorry. Peg has closed the doors. The White Dove is no more.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I don’t know what galloped the fastest. Joe, or my heart. I bust through the back door of the Dove. Caught Peg at the kitchen table.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you sold the White Dove?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you bought a ranch?”

  “Well, I was headed here to tell all of ya. Then a huge Buffalo Soldier carried Cinnamon through the door, and everything went to hell in a hand basket.”

  “Same here. Now settle down, and I’ll explain.”

  I didn’t wait for her explanation. “You told me you’d never sell The White Dove.” Even I could tell my words came out too snappish. I deserved Peg’s irritated sigh.

  “To Calhoun. I told you I’d never sell to Calhoun. Besides, I didn’t sell The Dove. You gonna listen now instead of acting like I strangled the neighbor’s cat?”

  She pulled up a chair and sank heavy onto it. “There are two reasons why I closed the Dove. First. The railroad is almost finished. Folks will be moving west. Good folks who will not tolerate establishments like The White Dove. Better to quit on my terms instead of being run out of town on a rail. Second. I’m tired. Old and tired. Dixie, the type of business we doves are in takes its toll.”

  Jackson had said the same thing. He had an aggravating habit of being right about a lot of things. The catch in Peg’s voice jarred my thoughts back to her.

  “I’ve come to think of all my girls as family. Wayward daughters I admit. But daughters nonetheless. I don’t want to see any of them abused or sick. And I especially don’t want to be responsible for burying any of them or them burying me.”

  I understood. I thought of Peg and her girls as my family too. What was to become of them? “Does this mean you’re leaving Six Shooter?”

  “No. I’m not leaving. I bought a new place. The One-Eyed Jack, as a matter of fact.”

  “What! Calhoun’s old stomping grounds?”

  “The very same. Funny, ain’t it? Got plans to turn it into an Opera House. Bring in singers and actors. Make it a top-notch, respectable place.”

  “But. What’s going to happen with Sassy? And Fancy? And—”

  “I asked them to come with me, but they refused. Sassy has plans to marry Big Mike Donavon, settle down, and raise young’uns. Can you imagine?”

  I gasped. “I had no idea she wanted a family. Can’t you just see her? Dressed head to toe in peacock feathers, pushing a baby pram down the sidewalk? Wonder if Big Mike has any idea what’s in store for him?”

  “Oh, I hope not. It’d ruin all the fun.”

  We both laughed.

  “I have some news about marriage as well. Inky Hayes told me he’s going to ask Cinnamon to be his wife.”

  Peg leaned back in her chair and slapped her knee. “Well if that don’t beat all. Always figured I’d lose Debbie Ann and Fancy to matrimony but never Sassy and Cinnamon. Just goes to show you how much I know.”

  “Inky is going to be my foreman. He’s going to build his own cabin. Reckon he and Cinnamon will live at the ranch. That takes care of Sassy and Cinnamon, but what about the rest? What will they do?”

  “Did you know Debbie Ann can cypher in her head quicker than I can on paper? Sums comes easy to her. Fancy cooks like she was born with a spoon in her hand. Rebecca Sue and Mary Lou can…well, I’m not sure what they can do. If they were men, they could find work as farm hands. It’s very difficult for ex-doves to find respectable jobs. They’re judged before they even get a chance to prove themselves.”

  Sometimes ideas jump into my head from out of the blue. This was one of those times.

  “Peg. I just had a brainstorm. Can you round up all the girls and have them meet me here tonight?”

  “Well sure. They’re still here at the Dove. I ain’t thrown them out on their ear, ya know. Come by around supper time. We’ll have our last meal together.”

  A picture of Jesus and the Last Supper flashed through my head.

  Sure hoped my idea turned out better than His did.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I glanced around the kitchen table with high hopes dancing a jig with the butterflies in my belly. My plan was a huge gamble. No one had tried it before, or at least I’d never heard of anyone doing it. If it succeeded we’d be in high cotton. If not? I didn’t want to think about that right now.

  Inky sat beside Cinnamon. So close he’d might as well have been in her hip pocket. It was only fitting he’d be here as the plan would affect him almost as much as me. Every eye trained on me. Sweat tickled my armpits. Stupid to be nervous. These were my friends. My family. But my idea was wild and wooly.

  “Y’all know I’ve bought a ranch a few miles out of town, the old Double D. I plan to turn it into a profitable horse ranch. The place needs fixing up, I’ll admit, but it isn’t as bad as I first thought. With a lot of work, I figure I can stock it in a month. Two at the most. I’ve hired Inky as my foreman. Problem is. I don’t have any hands he can ramrod. That’s why I wanted to talk to all of you tonight.” I took a deep breath. “I want to hire you for my ranch hands.”

  I expected a burst of guffaws and laughs. I got stone-cold silence instead. Head pounding, I rushed on, looking each one square in the eye.

  “Debbie Ann? Peg told me you’re good at numbers, cyphering. I was taught sums and can manage them. But I hate them something fierce. I’m going to need a good bookkeeper. Someone I can trust. I’m offering you the job.

  “Fancy? Ain’t no secret I can’t boil water and spit at the same time. How would you like to cook for the ranch?

  “Rebecca Sue? Mary Lou? You’d work with the mares and foals. Feeding. Watering. Birthing. That sort
of thing.

  “All of us would have to work together at branding and round-up time. I can teach you to ride and rope. Inky and I can handle the breaking and training. Sounds loco, I know. Never heard of an all-woman outfit before. But why not? We’re strong. Smart. And have nothing to lose.”

  Plumb out of steam, I sucked in a breath and waited.

  “Dixcee, I am in love with this idea. It is bold. Exciting. Just like you. But. You did not say what I can do?”

  I shot Inky a look that would melt lead. Didn’t want to steal his thunder, but I needed him to tell Cinnamon something.

  “Miss Dixie, I’ll answer that,” Inky said.

  I knew what was fixin’ to happen. My heart flopped over.

  He turned toward Cinnamon. “Miss Cinnamon? I was waiting for the right time. Guess this is it. You’s gonna help me. Stand by my side. Keep me square. Keep me loving each and every day because I have you in my life.”

  All of us stopped breathing.

  “You are asking me to marry you? Oui?”

  “If’n you’ll have me.”

  I never, ever thought I’d see tough, little Cinnamon cry. But she did. Buckets. She threw her arms around Inky’s thick neck and dang near kissed his lips dry.

  “Well. Guess that answers that,” Sassy said.

  Laughter made all the feelings I had bottled up inside me bust wide open. Tears. Smiles. Hugs. Congratulations. Damnation. My head spun. After the commotion settled down, Sassy lit up a cheroot and glared at me.

  “Okay, Dixie girl. Where do I stand in all of this?”

  “Well Peg told me you were throwing a rope over Big Mike and tying the knot. Didn’t think you’d be interested.”

  Shouldn’t have said that. All hell broke loose again. Hoops. Hollers. Congratulations and kisses.

  “This calls for a drink,” Peg said.

  A bottle of tequila made its way around the table. I didn’t dare to even smell the cork.

  “Dixie? Did you really mean it when you said I could help with the foals?”

  “Why sure, Rebecca Sue. Is that ok?”

  Tears spilled over and ran down her chubby face. My heart shriveled like a dried raisin.

  “Rebecca Sue? Did I say something wrong? You don’t have to take care of them. I’ll find something else for you to do. Please. Don’t cry.”

  “No. You don’t understand.” She downed a shot. Mary Lou placed a hand on her twin’s shoulder and nodded like she was giving permission for something.

  “Ma left Mary Lou and me when we was young. Our step-pa treated us bad. Real bad. Said we deserved it ’cause we ate too much. Was too big. Too ugly. That Ma runned away because she hated the sight of us. Told us over and over how God-fearing, decent men would never want us for their own. Said we was good for only thing. Reckon you can figure out what that was without any trouble. You hear things like that all of your life, you start to believe it. We was soiled before we had time to be pure. We became Doves. ’Cause that’s all we thought we was good for.”

  Peg pushed back from the table and walked to the window. Her hands gripped the iron sink so hard her knuckles turned white.

  “Your step-daddy still alive?” Inky’s voice oozed venom.

  “No. Caught the fever and died. Suffered real bad.”

  “Good.”

  “Anyways, when we could get away from him, we’d run and hide at the neighbor’s farm. We’d sneak into the barn and spend the day in the hay loft. We watched mama horses, cows, pigs, and cats take care of their babies. Them mamas didn’t give two hoots and a holler about how their young’uns looked. They could be as ugly as the devil’s scaly butt. Didn’t matter. They loved them because they were their own flesh and blood. I know it sounds silly. But watching them love on their little ones made us feel better. Always been partial to animals. They love true. And now, because of you, we have a chance to give that comfort back.”

  Up until now I could count the number of times Rebecca Sue spoke to me on one hand. Mary Lou less than that. They always stood in the background. Quiet as church mice. Tonight the dam broke. Rebecca Sue talked a full-blown book full. What do you say after hearing something like that? I just wanted to curl in a corner and cry. Guess everyone felt the same way. Silence threw a wet blanket over us. Debbie Ann’s little wren’s voice broke the spell.

  “What are we going to name our new ranch?”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “This is so exciting,” Fancy squealed. “I never thought I’d be a part of something so grand. What’s the ranch look like, Dixie?”

  “Can we all ride out tomorrow and look at it?”

  My mouth damn near hit the tabletop. Mary Lou’s question floored me. I’d never seen her take one step away from the White Dove. Now she wanted to ride out into fresh air and woods?

  “Oh, I can’t wait till morning,” Debbie Ann said. “Draw us a picture of it now, Dixie.”

  “I agree,” Sassy said. “Let’s get this table cleared.”

  “I’ll get paper and pencil,” Peg said. “Then I’ll put a pot of coffee on. This is shaping up to be one hell of a night.”

  “Oui. Is like Christmas Eve. No?”

  Damnation. Plates, cups, and saucers dang near grew wings and flew from the table into soapy water. Hands moved so fast washing, drying, and stacking, it made me dizzy. Soon the aroma of fresh coffee filled the air. Excitement, joy, and anticipation bounced off the walls. I caught the fever. I pushed the paper over to Inky.

  “You draw it out, Inky. I can’t think straight right now.”

  Seven heads studied the picture Inky drew. Every breath latched on to his words. “Ya ride through this here gate. It’s rusty and faded, but paint and a little grease will fix it fine. The main house sits off a ways. Got a good well beside it. Over here is the barn.”

  “How many stalls?”

  “What about the hay loft?”

  “Where are you going to get the horses?”

  “Can we have chickens? A barn cat?”

  “Where are we going to stay?”

  “You got enough money for all of this?”

  Questions whizzed past my head faster than bullets. I raised my hands in mock surrender. “Stop! Give me a chance.”

  They settled down. Eagerness flushed every cheek to a rosy glow.

  “First of all, the horses are the least of our worries. I got them taken care of.

  “Second thing. The barn. Right now there are six stalls.” I glanced over at Inky. “If hard-pressed we can squeeze in a few more.”

  He nodded in agreement.

  “Third. The hay loft is sound. Tested it myself.

  “Finally. Of course we’ll have chickens. Plan on cows, maybe even a goat or two. And most definitely barn cats. Can’t have mice around.”

  “May I have a kitten of my own?”

  Oh God. I damn near died. I watched the faces around the table. All of them blinked back tears. We knew Rebecca Sue’s timid request was more than just a plea for a pet. It was a shout-out to be loved by something, be it human or animal. To be accepted for who she was. Hell, I’d give her the whole damn litter if she wanted. I cleared my throat. Tried to keep my voice light.

  “Sure. As many as you want.”

  “Dixie? How you gonna pay for all this?”

  Debbie Ann was already working as the book keeper. I did a fast total in my head of the notes I still had tucked in my boot. Because I’d gotten the ranch so cheap, I had enough money for repairs, provisions, and payroll. Payroll? Never thought I’d be thinking about that.

  “I should have enough to cover us for a while.”

  “Dare I ask how you got that much cash?” Sassy asked.

  “Nope.”

  She smiled. “You need to start talking to the Army and Stagecoach lines now about buying horses.”

  “Sassy! That’s it!”

  “That’s what?”

  “Your job. You can be my go-between. My voice. Broker deals and contracts. Not only for horse sales but for
feed and equipment too. Why, the way you wheel and deal not to mention flirt and twist men around your little finger, you’d be perfect. That would free me up to concentrate on the horses. It’s perfect.”

  “I like the sound of that. You got a deal.”

  “But where are we going to live?” Debbie Ann interrupted.

  “There’s a bunkhouse.”

  “Bunkhouse?”

  Their noses wrinkled and twitched. For the first time that night I felt panic crawl up my gullet. If not the bunkhouse, then where? I couldn’t afford to build cabins for all of them.

  “I can helps you there, Miss Dixie. I’s seen the bunkhouse. It’s got room for at least ten to fifteen men. I can makes rooms for y’alls.”

  “Won’t that be a lot of work, Inky?”

  “Don’t think so. I’s just build some walls so each can have their own little room.”

  “Oh cheri, such a wonderful idea.” Cinnamon chimed in. “Perhaps a small sitting room in the middle?”

  “I’ll give you all the furniture you want,” Peg said. “Consider it my contribution to the crazy notion.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. “Are you sure, Peg?”

  “Well hell yes, I’m sure. I ain’t got no use for this swanky stuff no more.”

  “The bathtubs too?” A second passed before laughter started. Dear, sweet Fancy.

  “Don’t see why not.”

  “How does all this sound?” I asked. Fingers and toes crossed.

  Debbie Ann spoke up. “Isn’t much different than the White Dove, is it?”

  “Oui. Is true. The spirit of the White Dove lives on.”

  My skin turned to gooseflesh. “Cinnamon, you just named the ranch.”

  “What name, cheri?”

  “Spirit Dove Ranch.”

  Everyone shouted at once. “Yee Haw! Let’s drink to Spirit Dove Ranch.”

  Coffee can be a toast same as tequila. Thank God.

  “We need a brand.”

  “A white dove. Oui?”

  “Too hard to make,” I said.

  “Why not an olive branch?”