The Wyoming Debt

by April Hill

  By morning, she had worked out a plan–or the beginnings of one. The town of Gopher Hole was only fifteen miles to the west–a long ride, but something she could surely manage–if she simply watched where she was going. She had already convinced herself that Daniel’s disparaging remarks about the town were exaggerated, and intended to discourage her. Of course, it was anyone’s guess whether Milo could even make it fifteen miles, but she had no other choice. The only question was how to find an opportunity to get away.

  Almost miraculously, the opportunity presented itself, just two days later.

  “Orville Crossing?” she repeated at breakfast, when Will explained where he was headed that morning.

  “It’s where we ship our cattle–from the rail spur, there. It doesn’t have the cultural attractions and the fine shopping that Big Dooley does, of course. Bawling cattle, manure, and dust, mostly, but without it, we’d be hard put to get by. I’d ask you to come along, but Hannah’s been begging to see how the business end of this ranch works, so I told her she could go with me, this trip. She’s already the best bookkeeper in the family, and she’s got a real head for haggling over prices, so it’s high time she got to know the cattle agent. Besides, I figured you could use a day without her whining. Gideon’s got Caleb with him down at the river, looking for trout, so you’ll have the cabin to yourself for a while. Maybe you can even take a bath in the kitchen without having to rig yourself a curtain. We’ll be back a little after supper.”

  And then, as he got up from the table and started for the front door, Will did something he’d never done before. He leaned down a placed a quick kiss on the top of his wife’s head. The impromptu kiss seemed to surprise him almost as much as it did Cathy, and his face flushed when she looked up at him curiously.

  “Sorry,” he murmured. “I just … Anyway, like I said, we’ll be back around suppertime, maybe a little after.” And then, he was gone. Cathy heard him in the yard, talking with Hannah, who had not made an appearance at breakfast. A few minutes later, the wide front gate creaked, and they were gone.

  If she started now, she would have an eight-hour start. Maybe more, if Will and Gideon didn’t try tracking her after dark. It wasn’t enough, and she knew that they would come after her, but it was her only chance. In another place, another town, perhaps she could reason more clearly with Will, and make him understand why she needed to get away.

  As she saddled Milo, she looked the horse over from his flop-eared head to his spindly tail. Several months of rest and eating heartily had done wonders, but he still wouldn’t win an equestrian beauty contest–if there were such a thing–and Cathy could only hope that his health had improved more than his appearance. She’d already calculated that it would be a long, hard day’s ride to Gopher Hole, and if she and Milo did get lost or stranded in the middle of nowhere, she was fairly sure that one of the first people to come along would be Will Cameron. And though it was the middle of nowhere, she was equally sure that her rescuer could find something to sit on while he dragged down her drawers and set to work blistering every naked inch of her, from waist to knee.

  Actually, Cathy thought glumly, what better place than the middle of nowhere? She could shriek and howl at the top of her lungs, and no one would hear–or care. An ideal location to wallop the living daylights out of a lying, thieving runaway wife.

  * * * *

  Not surprisingly, the trip took longer than she had planned, and by the time Milo clopped wearily into Gopher Hole, the saloon at the end of the street was the only place still open for business. The few shabby stores were locked up for the night, and in the dark, Cathy was unable to locate either the stage company’s ticket office, or a rooming house. At the livery stable, she was informed that while Milo could have a meal and a warm room for the night, similar accommodations would not be available for her.

  “No rooming house,” the proprietor explained. “Most fellas don’t stay the night in town. They just bed down with their herds. They got a couple upstairs rooms at The Bird’s Nest,” he continued, pointing down the dusty street to the saloon. “But those ain’t for ladies like you, if you take my meanin’.”

  Cathy understood his meaning perfectly. It meant she would be sleeping in a stall with Milo, if she could talk this gentleman into extending her credit until morning, when she could locate a place to exchange her wedding and engagement rings for cash. She paid for Milo’s bed and board with two of the four quarters she’d stolen from a small wooden box in Will’s dresser, and had hoped to invest her remaining fortune of fifty cents in a simple meal and a bath.

  The next morning, hungry, and smelling of damp straw and of Milo, Cathy found a tiny, unprosperous looking bank, and after a half an hour of bargaining, finally accepted a piteously small sum of money for the two rings. Her next disappointment came when she asked where to find the stage office.

  “Doesn’t come here, anymore,” the bank manager said, with a disinterested yawn. “Stopped running around six months ago. Not enough business. Won’t be surprised if we’re next. Bad times, all over, I hear.”

  Cathy sat on a bench in front of the bank for close to an hour, trying to avoid doing what she knew she had to do. Finally, she dusted most of the straw from her dress, straightened her hair as best she could by using the bank’s grimy window as an improvised mirror, and then set off down the street to The Bird’s Nest. She stopped at the front steps long enough to pinch a bit of color into her cheeks, trying to convince herself that this place couldn’t be any worse than some of the other places she and Jack had worked in. Her biggest concern was that The Bird’s Nest might not need help or only offer the sort of employment she wasn’t willing to provide.

  The Bird’s Nest was hiring, and though the manager would have preferred that she work the upstairs rooms as well as the two seedy gambling tables, Cathy politely declined the offer. He accepted her refusal gracefully. After all, a woman with this one’s looks and talent didn’t often show up in a place like Gopher Hole, or The Bird’s Nest. It was also obvious to him that the lady was in dire straits, and maybe on the run from the law. His secret hope was that she could eventually be enticed to offer more for sale than just her beautiful face and her proven ability to spot suckers.

  While the manager of The Bird’s Nest was planning a long stay for his stunning new employee, Cathy was promising herself a considerably shorter one.

  “One week,” she swore under her breath as she was outfitted in a brief, garishly feathered costume of bright green satin and black lace. “Two at most, and not a day longer, no matter what!”

  * * * *

  Cathy had been on the road to Gopher Hole for less than three hours when Will and Hannah rode up to the dusty railway spur at Orville Crossing. They dismounted, tied their horses to the wooden rail outside the cattle agent’s tiny office, and went inside. By the time they had finished their business there and concluded a quick tour of the pens and loading dock, it would still be hours before Cathy fell asleep on a pile of hay in Milo’s stall.

  When Will and Hannah arrived back at the cabin, Will knew something was wrong the moment they rode through the gate and into the yard. Gideon and Caleb were waiting on the front porch, and one look at his old friend’s face as he approached the cabin told Will that the problem was a big one.

  “Cathy?” Will asked, stopping at the bottom of the steps. Hannah stood behind him, pushing the dirt around with the toe of her boot, but saying nothing.

  “She lit out this morning,” Gideon replied. “From the looks of it, prob’ly right after you rode off. The boy and me come back around noon, and found this on the table.” he handed Will a sealed envelope. “Figured you’d want to read it for yourself.”

  Will ripped open the envelope and read the enclosed note. “She says she’s on her way to Big Dooley. She’s hoping to catch the first stage that comes through.”

  Gideon nodded. “Which means she’s headed the other direction,” he muttered.

  Will swore. “Gopher Hole,�
�� he agreed. “Did she take a decent horse, or the nag she came here with?”

  “Milo’s not in his stall,” Caleb offered, in a small, frightened voice. “And his saddle’s gone, too.”

  Will swore. “Trust her to start being honest at the wrong time. I’ll be surprised if she makes it halfway there on that flea-bitten animal. And if it turns colder, tonight, she’ll freeze her butt.” He turned to Caleb. “What else did she take with her, son?”

  Caleb merely shook his head, trying to fight back tears. When her brother started to sob, Hannah pushed past Will and went quickly inside. It was already getting dark, and neither Gideon nor her father noticed that the girl was pale and seemed nervous. A moment later, Caleb stumbled inside after her, still crying.

  “There’s a blanket gone, and some food, and her own stuff, of course, but nothin’ else I could see,” Gideon said.

  Will slammed his fist down on the porch railing. “The little idiot! It’ll be dark in half an hour. Any point going after her, tonight?”

  “Nope. There’s no moon, these old eyes of mine are too far gone to track a lone horse on hard ground. Besides, a night alone out there, bein’ cold and hungry might do the woman some good,” he growled. “That and one helluva hard lickin’ when we catch up to her. And if you won’t see to it, I damned sure will. She’s scared the shit outta’ the boy. He’s been pesterin’ me all day about Indians.”

  Will glanced up. “Has he got a reason to worry?”

  Gideon shook his head. “Nah. Truth is, I’ve been goin’ on about Shoshone raiding parties and all since she got here, hopin’ it would keep her close to home. Of course, if you was lookin’ to sell the lady, I reckon a couple of them fellas the boy seen wouldn’t mind takin’ home a real pretty, redheaded wife–‘til they found out she’s got the temper to go with it.” The old man shook his head doubtfully. “Trouble with that is, most of ‘em aren’t the sort to whip their women, and if I ever knew a woman who needed her backside set on fire, regular, it’s yours.” He got to his feet and stretched. “I’m goin’ in now and get some sleep, since my bed’s empty again. It’ll be a long day, tomorrow. You’d better turn in pretty soon, yourself.”

  Inside, Will found Caleb curled up in the rocking chair, still sniffling.

  “Cathy will be fine, Caleb,” Will said softly. “There’s no need to worry. Gideon and I are going after her in the morning. We’ll have her back here by supper tomorrow, safe and sound.”

  The boy rubbed his eyes. “But, why is everybody so mad at her?” he asked plaintively.

  Will sighed. “We’re not really mad, son. We were all just a little worried, at first, the same as you, and when grown-ups get worried, they sometimes act mad.”

  “Like when I took Gideon’s hunting knife and cut my finger?”

  “That’s right. I was afraid you’d hurt yourself real bad, so I got angry with you.”

  Caleb nodded. “Are you gonna just yell at Cathy when you find her, or take a switch to her, like you done to me?”

  Will grinned. Out of the mouths of babes, he thought. He was about to tell Caleb that Cathy was a grown up, and that grown ups don’t get switched, but then, he thought better of it. He’d always prided himself on being truthful with his children, and for a moment, while he pondered what to say, he didn’t say anything, at all.

  “The truth is, Caleb, I’m going to try real hard to not even yell at her,” he said finally, with what he hoped was a barely noticeable emphasis on the word, “try.”

  Caleb wiped his eyes, and frowned. “Why not? Poor Milo was prob’ly all wore out by the time he got there. I’d take a switch to her for that, for sure!”

  Caleb had been in bed and sleeping peacefully for an hour when Will Cameron’s other child began wailing loudly enough to wake the entire cabin.

  Will got up from his chair and walked to the kitchen, where Hannah was leaning over the sink, her hands still in a pan of soapy dishwater, sobbing inconsolably. He pulled the girl into his “For God’s sake, Hannah, what’s wrong?” he pleaded.

  “Oh, Pa!” she sobbed. “I did somethin’ awful. Just plain awful!”

  Will grabbed a dishcloth and wiped her face. “What could you have done that …”

  “While you were inside, talkin’ to the agent,” she stammered. “I was standin’ there, holdin’ the horses, and I seen this little poster like, stuck up on a pole. And there was another one, too, nailed on the door of the privy.”

  Will shook his head, bewildered. “Poster?”

  “With Cathy’s picture on it. Some fella in Denver says he’ll pay five hundred dollars to find out where she is, and another five hundred to anyone who brings her to him.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a crumpled wad of paper. “This is it. I’m sure it’s her in the picture, but …”

  Quickly, Will read the faded poster, and in one blinding instant, everything became clear. Everything that had happened since he rode into Big Dooley that day, and rode out with a wife he hadn’t wanted. Everything that Cathy had said and or done since the day he first saw her, standing at the counter of Peppmueller’s Mercantile.

  “Did you see any more of these, Hannah?” he asked urgently.

  “No, just those two, but …”

  “Well, that’s good, anyway. There’s no way knowing how many there were, or how many more of them are still floating around, but this one’s pretty old, so maybe it will be ok.”

  “Please, Pa!” she cried. “You need to listen to what I’m sayin’! While you were watering the horses, I sneaked back inside and talked to that agent, myself. That Mr. Hoskins?”

  “Why?”

  Tears began welling up in Hannah’s eyes, again, as she blurted out what she had done. “I told him all about Cathy–how the woman in the picture was livin’ here, and all. What she’s callin’ herself, now. Everything, Pa!” Hesitantly, she reached into her pocket again, and withdrew another crumpled bit of paper–a worn five-dollar bill. “He gave me this money, and made me swear not to tell anybody else. Oh, God, Pa, I’m sorry! I was just so mad at you, and at her. I didn’t mean to …”

  Five minutes later, Will had roused Gideon, warned him to be on the lookout for strangers, and saddled his horse again for the long ride to Gopher Hole.

  * * * *

  Cathy woke up the following morning with a headache, and crawled out of bed to face her first day in months as a “dancehall hostess,” a polite word for what she would be doing when the next cattle herd came through town, later that afternoon. Until then, the place would be quiet, as such places always were during the daytime. She would spend the day learning–or relearning–things she had hoped were far behind her. In two weeks, if she was careful, she could earn enough, or steal enough, to pay for a stage ticket west.

  It wasn’t stealing, in the purest sense, of course. When she wasn’t running a game table, she would simply prowl the premises, batting her eyelashes, and rub up against the likeliest sweaty cowhand. After that, it was simply a matter of collecting whatever gratuities he could be talked into offering for her company, and for the watered drinks she would order for the two of them. Half of these gratuities would be turned over to the floor manager–a burly man named George, who had already began watching her like a hawk, suspecting her motives, no doubt. The other half of her hard-earned gratuities would join the few dollars she had left from the sale of her rings, which were tucked deep inside her corset, for safekeeping. The owner of The Bird’s Nest, George had explained, was not in the business of outfitting whores, or even potential whores, which meant that the brief, gaudy bird costume she was wearing would cost her two days’ earnings up front. Jack had always selected and paid for her clothing, and his taste had been superb. The only positive thing that could be said of the highly revealing green stain outfit she would have to pay for out of her first night’s earnings was that it smelled slightly less offensive than the orange one she’d tried on, first.

  Cathy knew two things for certain, one of which she dreaded, and o
ne of which terrified her. The thing she dreaded was that Will Cameron would eventually come in, looking for her. The thing that terrified her was that Jack might show up, first. She had left a note for Will, hoping to send him off in the wrong direction, but she knew that the ruse probably wouldn’t work. She had two or three days, at most, before Will came though that door. Mad as a wet hen. Her hope was that when he did arrive, she could offer him enough money–or close to it–to settle her debt. In any case, she didn’t see him as the kind of man who would drag her out of The Bird’s Nest against her will, and with an audience. And once he had accepted the money and returned to the ranch–alone–he, Hannah and Caleb would be out of danger.

  Her only hope where Jack was concerned was to put together enough money to get far, far away, before he showed up.

  She was wrong about Will, though–on two counts.

  He arrived late that evening, and as it turned out, he wasn’t in the least bit shy about dragging her out of The Bird’s Nest against her will–in full view of a room filled with leering spectators.

  * * * *

  She was sitting at a back table with a drunken cowhand by the name of Jasper when Will came into The Bird’s Nest. Jasper was not a young man, and he was missing several teeth. The result, he explained quite cheerfully, of a dispute over a buxom lady called Helga, who had six toes on both her feet, which had put apparently put Helga in great demand among Jasper’s fellow cowhands. Cathy had managed to fend off most of Jasper’s clumsy attempts to get his hand inside the lower half of her green satin costume by jumping up regularly to get another round of watered drinks. She was prying Jasper’s roaming fingers off her inner thigh for the ninth time that evening when the saloon’s swinging doors swung wide open.