“Is that when you ran off?” Perley asked.
“I figured I wouldn’t likely get a better chance, with ol’ Mott up ahead, leadin’ the horse. So, I just rolled over to the side of the trail and gave him about five minutes to miss me. He was too busy tryin’ to get the horse up that trail, and Belle and Lucy didn’t give a damn if I was all right or not, so I got up and took off across the side of the mountain.”
“How long ago was that?” Perley wanted to know.
She paused to recall. “I swear, I ain’t sure. I ran around that mountain till almost dark. Then I found me a place to hide in a gully. I fell asleep after a while, and when I woke up, it was daylight, so I took off again, between that mountain and another’n, tryin’ to head north. That night, I piled up a bunch of leaves and slept under ’em. I know I walked two more days before I started up this stream.”
Perley handed her another strip of venison when it was done, which she took eagerly, tearing into it like a hungry wolf. A few minutes before, she had said she hadn’t eaten in a week, causing him to be a little skeptical, since she didn’t appear to be as weak as she would have been if her story was true. He asked, “Did you really eat a frog?”
She screwed her face up like she had eaten a sour pickle. “A little bit of one. I was so hungry I thought I could eat the whole thing, but his legs were still kickin’ when I tried to chew him up, and I spit him out.”
What the hell am I going to do with her? This was the question Perley now asked himself. “You said you were tryin’ to head north. Where were you thinkin’ about goin’?”
“Deadwood,” she answered, and when he asked why, she said, “’cause Mott Mason is goin’ to Custer City. And Deadwood is where most people are headin’ now, so I figure I’ve got a chance to find myself somethin’ I can do there to survive—washin’ dishes, cleanin’ up, washin’ clothes—somethin’.”
She could read it in his face that he was trying to decide what to do with her. After a long moment when he said nothing, she pressed, “That’s the reason I wanna go to Deadwood with you. I don’t know how to get there by myself, and I won’t cause you no trouble. Like I said, I’ll do for you and help you out all I can, and when we get to Deadwood, I’ll just say thank you and good-bye, all right?” She studied his face intently, hoping that when she said she would do for him, he wouldn’t take that to mean the same thing Mott Mason expected of her. The thought of Mott caused a feeling of nausea momentarily. At least with Perley, it would not be as disgusting. “So whaddaya say, Perley? Can I go with you?”
“I reckon,” he answered right away. He had no choice. He couldn’t leave her to find her own way. She had no means to even stay alive unless he took care of her. “I oughta tell you, though, I’ve never been to Deadwood, so I’m just followin’ the stagecoach road, and it passes through Custer City before it goes to Deadwood. So, I reckon we’ll have to go around Custer, if that’s where this fellow Mason is headin’.” He took a long look at her and shook his head. “Too bad you didn’t run off with some more clothes with you. That dress looks like it’s just holdin’ together. I’ve got a coat in my packs. You can put that on, and I’ve got an extra blanket I figured I might need if I was still here when cold weather hits. We can make you up a bedroll with that.”
She was suddenly all smiles. “I won’t be no trouble, Perley. You won’t be sorry.”
I already am, he thought, wondering how he happened to attract one stray after another, starting with Liz and Stella, then Ethel Steiner, now Lena Rooney. He wasn’t sure how far he was from Custer City. He had told her he would ride around it, but he didn’t want to do that. It might be the very place he could strike his grandpa’s trail. I reckon I’ll have to hide her someplace while I go into town, he told himself.
“Well, let’s get you a bed fixed up,” he said and went to his packs to find the extra blanket. “If you wanna help, you can rinse out the coffeepot and cups.”
Without waiting for him to suggest it, she busied herself collecting firewood to keep the fire going while he went to check on his horses. He hobbled the sorrel’s front legs, then spent some time checking Buck to see how the new shoes were working out.
“What’s his name?” Lena asked when she walked up to Perley and the bay gelding.
“His name’s Buck,” Perley answered.
She gave that a moment’s thought, then asked, “What’s the other one’s name.”
“Packhorse,” Perley answered with a chuckle, since the sorrel didn’t have a name. He had cut him out of the remuda at Ogallala, never thinking about naming him. “You can think up a name for him while we’re ridin’ to Deadwood.”
“I’ll think on it,” she said.
“Well, I’m turnin’ in,” Perley announced. “You need some help with that blanket?”
“Nope, I’m just gonna roll up in it.” That’s just what she did, while Perley walked downstream to find a place to take care of business in private.
Still a little concerned about her own safety, even as nice as Perley seemed, she lay there, stone still and stiff as a board, awaiting his return. If he had any ideas about crawling into that blanket with her, now was the time, and she listened as he approached from the creek bank. She could hear his footsteps as he walked through the low bushes under the pines. Then, after what seemed a short period with no sound at all, she turned her head slowly in his direction. He was settled in his bedroll, and by all appearances, already on his way to sleep. Thank you, Lord, she said in a silent prayer of gratitude. You sent me a decent man. She turned over on her side and went to sleep.
* * *
She awoke the following morning to the aroma of coffee bubbling in the pot. After a moment of confusion while she remembered where she was, she suddenly sat straight up. “Oh, shit!” she exclaimed. “I shoulda been up before now.”
“What for?” Perley asked.
“To cook our breakfast,” she said. “I shoulda been up before you.”
“I think you needed the sleep. You looked like you hadn’t had any decent sleep for a while, so I didn’t think you’d mind if I went ahead and started it.”
“Well, I’ll take over,” she declared, scrambling out of the blanket. “Just give me a minute to visit those bushes over near the clearin’. I’ll be right back.” She took off without waiting for his reply.
“Take your time—ain’t no hurry,” he said, even though she was already out of earshot. “I reckon I oughta be used to travelin’ with women by now.” He turned his attention back to the bacon in the frying pan.
Squatting in a thick row of serviceberry bushes close to the grassy clearing and a considerable distance from the fire, Lena was busy getting rid of some of the coffee she had consumed the night before. About to thank her lucky stars for having been sent a Good Samaritan in her time of need, she froze when she heard the bushes parting behind her. At once frightened and angry at the same time, she turned to defend herself, only to find the big bay gelding gazing at her in idle curiosity.
Unable to contain it, she let out a whoop, and laughed at her immediate presumption. Finishing up her business, she grasped the nosy horse’s bridle and stroked his neck and face. Then, for the hell of it, she jumped up on his back and, taking the reins, turned him toward the campfire and rode back, to pull up before a startled Perley.
Still sitting astride the big horse, Lena was puzzled by the look of amazement on Perley’s face. “What is it?” she asked.
“Nothin’,” he answered, not sure himself. Unable to resist finding out for certain, he had to ask, “You done much ridin’ before?”
“I used to ride my pa’s horses all the time when he had the farm,” she said.
“How ’bout ridin’ Buck down there and lead the sorrel back up here near the fire, so I can saddle ’em?”
“All right,” she said and wheeled Buck around. In a few minutes, she returned, leading the packhorse. When she saw the same strange expression on Perley’s face, she asked, “Is everything all r
ight? Did I do somethin’ wrong?”
“Nope,” he answered as she slid off the horse’s back. “It’s just that you’re the first person I’ve ever seen come offa Buck of their own accord. Buck don’t let anybody ride him but me.” He paused and scratched his head. “And now, I reckon, you.”
His declaration pleased her, and she immediately took over the cooking. “Have you got any flour?”
“In the packs,” he replied, pointing to one, still puzzling over the fact that Buck didn’t buck her off.
“You go saddle up, and I’ll see what you’ve got to cook with. We’ll have us a good breakfast before we get started to Deadwood.”
He did as she instructed, not realizing that she had taken charge of things in short order. He was yet to learn that it was her nature to tend to do things as she thought they should be done. One thing he found out right away, however, was her ability to cook, which almost made him glad she had crossed his path. This, even though he had no idea what he would do with her when they reached Deadwood.
It was not until they had finished eating and Lena had washed the cups and pan that she asked why he was going to Deadwood. So, he told her about his grandfather, whose name he shared, and his quest to find the old man. She listened with rapt attention.
“So, you ain’t goin’ to Deadwood lookin’ to hunt gold like everybody else?” she asked when he had finished. “And your grandpa don’t even know about you?”
“That’s right,” Perley answered.
She was impressed. “I reckon you’re pretty proud to be wearin’ your grandpa’s name, then.”
“Well,” he hesitated, “I reckon I ain’t ashamed of it, but sometimes it’s caused me a little trouble.”
CHAPTER 15
With Lena riding behind him, holding the packhorse’s lead rope, Perley guided Buck back down the stream and returned to the Cheyenne-Deadwood Stage road. They would travel about fifteen miles, following the sometimes treacherous road, before Perley decided the horses were working too hard on the mountain trail. When they came to a parklike campground that looked to be a change-up station for the stage line, he let the horses rest.
There was grass on the hillside and a strong creek for water. A man who had been standing on the porch of the large log house, watching them approach, stepped down to meet them.
“Good day to ya,” he said, as he continued to study Perley and the young girl behind him.
“Howdy,” Perley replied. “Mind if we water our horses outta your creek there and let ’em rest awhile?”
“Don’t mind at all,” the man said. “We don’t own the creek anyway, and if you wanna graze your horses, you can turn ’em out in my pasture, there.” He talked to Perley, but he continued to study the bedraggled-looking girl behind him. “How ’bout you and your lady friend, there? My missus can cook you up some dinner for twenty-five cents apiece.”
“I was figurin’ on cookin’ my own dinner,” Perley said and turned to give Lena a look. “But maybe it’d be a nice thing to treat you to a good hot dinner. Whaddaya say, Lena?”
“That’d be real nice,” Lena replied, “as long as you ain’t expectin’ me to come up with a quarter.”
“I reckon we’ll buy some dinner, then,” Perley said to the man.
“Good,” he said. “My name’s John Potter. I’ll tell my wife to fix up a couple of plates. Just come right on in the house after you take care of your horses. The young lady can come on in while you’re doin’ that.”
“Much obliged,” Perley said while Lena climbed down. Then he rode Buck over by the creek to leave him and the packhorse to drink.
Once inside the house, Potter turned at once to face Lena. “Are you all right, young lady?”
Surprised by the question, Lena hesitated, thinking the man might be touched in the head. Then she remembered that she must look a sight, and she couldn’t help laughing. “I will be after I eat—if your wife can cook halfway decent.” She realized that Potter might be thinking Perley had abducted her and treated her badly. “I fell out of a wagon back yonder in the mountains, and if Perley hadn’t come along, I’d still be wanderin’ around in the woods.”
Potter looked relieved. He had summoned his courage to step in and do the right thing if the situation was, in fact, what it first appeared to be. He was now happy to take Lena’s word that she was not being abused. “Come on in the kitchen,” he said, then called his wife. “Sarah, we’ve got two travelers that wanna buy some dinner.”
When they walked into the kitchen, Sarah was standing there waiting. Like her husband, her initial reaction to Lena was to gasp in alarm.
“Child,” she cried, “what happened to you?”
Lena told them of her sale to the cruel Mott Mason and of her accident while pushing his wagon up a steep trail.
“You poor child!” Sarah Potter wailed. “Then, who is the man who brought you here?”
“Like I told your husband,” Lena said, “he found me after I’d been wanderin’ around lost. He said he’d take me to Deadwood.” She hung her head to affect a convincing appearance of disgrace. “I know I look a sight, but I ain’t got no clothes. Mott Mason rode off with every stitch I had.”
Sarah shook her head, overcome with compassion for the unfortunate young girl. “Well, thank the Lord for guiding you to us. I can clean you up a little, and I’m sure I’ve got an old dress that would at least give you something better than that ragged one you’re wearing.”
“That’s mighty kind of you, Mrs. Potter, but I know Perley’s in a hurry to get to Deadwood. He’s tryin’ to find his old grandpa, and I wouldn’t wanna hold him up. He coulda left me in the mountains like Mott Mason did, but he said he’d take me to Deadwood, so I don’t wanna make no fuss.”
“Well, he can just wait till we take care of you,” the resolute woman said. “You can’t go a step farther till we fix you up. And that’ll start with a good meal. You’re too late to eat with the hired hands, but I can rustle up some ham and eggs in a jiffy.” Hands on hips, she turned to face the door when she heard Perley walking across the porch.
Somewhat startled because of the frowning faces he was met with from John and Sarah Potter, Perley felt as if he had walked into a courtroom and he was on trial. In contrast, Lena’s face was lit up with a satisfied smile that reached from ear to ear. He was about to ask what Lena had told them, but Sarah Potter didn’t give him the chance before she began telling him what was going to happen.
“Welcome to our home, young man,” she started. “You’re doing the right thing, taking this girl to Deadwood, and you should be applauded for that. She says you’re in a big hurry to get there, but she needs some attention before she’ll be ready to go on. So, you’ll just have to cool your heels for a little while till she’s ready.” When she was met with a look of pure astonishment on Perley’s part, she added, “To make up for it, there won’t be any charge for your dinner—or hers.” She stared sternly at him, waiting for his response as if she anticipated some disagreement from him.
He didn’t reply right away, glancing again at Lena, who was still smiling. It was easy to guess that she had painted a picture for them, and he wasn’t sure if he had been depicted as the villain or not. “Whatever Lena thinks is best,” he said.
“Oh,” Sarah blurted in surprise, obviously expecting an argument. Then, not sure he realized what she meant, she went on. “She needs a good bath and something decent to put on, not just food.”
“I reckon you’re right about that,” he agreed. “But I didn’t think she’d appreciate it if I tried to give her a bath.”
Lena couldn’t help laughing outright at that. It served to alleviate the tension John Potter had begun to build up when his wife started to lay down the law to the young stranger. He realized that Perley was joking and nodded his approval, when Perley continued.
“I don’t normally carry a spare dress in my packs, but I did let her use my coat till we got to a place where we might buy one.” He gave Lena a wink and
concluded, “If it’s gonna take too long before you get her ready to ride, I can just leave her here with you folks, and I’ll go along about my business.”
“No, no,” Sarah quickly replied. “It won’t take us that long. I’ve got several old dresses that I can’t wear anymore. At least one of them oughta be just right for her. We won’t delay you any more than necessary to take a nip and tuck in it, and you’ll be on your way. To look for your grandpa, was that it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Perley replied.
Feeling comfortable now and enjoying his wife’s retreat, Potter laughed and asked, “What’s your name, young feller?”
“Perley Gates,” he answered. Seeing the reaction in Potter’s face, and accustomed to it, he went on to explain that he was named for his grandfather.
More interested in Perley then, Potter asked if his grandpa knew he was coming to find him, so Perley told them the whole story behind his trip, all the way from Texas, to search for his grandfather.
“And he ain’t ever seen you?” Potter asked when Perley had finished. “And he don’t even know his grandson is named after him?”
“That’s a fact,” Perley said. “And now that my pa’s dead, my ma thought Grandpa oughta know about it.”
Potter shook his head, thinking about it. “That’s a powerful long way, just to tell that old man you’re his grandson.”
“My ma thinks it’s important,” Perley declared, “and that’s enough reason for me.”
Potter’s wife nodded approvingly after that remark, deciding that she liked Perley even more. She finished slicing strips from a salt-cured ham to fry with some eggs and serve with cold biscuits and hot coffee. “You folks sit down and eat, and I’ll heat some water for a bath after you’re done,” she announced.
While they ate the ham and eggs Sarah Potter had prepared, Lena watched Perley for a few long minutes before she asked, “Are you thinkin’ about stoppin’ in Custer City?” She wanted to remind him that Custer City was where Mott Mason was heading and Perley had told her they would go around that town.
The Legend of Perley Gates Page 23
