Legend of the Lost

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Legend of the Lost Page 12

by Dicksion, William Wayne


  “I agree, son. Let’s get it over with.”

  “Well, you’d better get ready,” said a man looking through the batwing doors. “Hank is riding in now with Herv and two hired guns. If you’re going to leave, I suggest you do it through the back door.”

  “No, we’ll face them,” Vard said calmly. “I’ve never run from a fight, and I’m not going to start now.”

  “I feel the same way,” Alex said as he pushed his chair back.

  “Well, you’d better get ready,” another man said, “because they’ll be coming in about thirty seconds, and they have you outnumbered two to one.”

  Alex rose from his chair and walked slowly to one end of the bar. Vard walked calmly to the other end and stood with his back to the wall; Marl remained seated. Tobacco smoke hung in the dimly lit room. The place that was noisy only a moment ago was suddenly as silent as a tomb.

  Chapter 11

  Hank’s gunmen had just buried the two snipers who had come back to the Flying W Ranch tied over their saddles. Both were shot right between the eyes, and their rifles were missing. Hank and his men were ready for their drinks to erase the memory of that gruesome sight, and they stepped through the saloon doors and rushed to the bar. The men at the bar backed away. Then they noticed the two men they had been hired to kill standing at each end of the bar!

  Not a word was said. Fast as a rattlesnake striking, Herv Hamlin’s hand moved toward his gun. Alex’s gun belched flame. He fired twice—so rapidly that it sounded like once. The first bullet penetrated Herv Hamlin’s brain as Herv tried to raise the barrel of his gun, and the second bullet stopped one of the other gunmen before he could complete his draw.

  Vard put a bullet through the left pocket of hank Tyler’s vest. Alex heard two more shots fired and then felt a searing pain. A bullet had gone all the way through the chest muscle under his left arm, and it would have gone right through to his heart if he hadn’t turned. Alex watched the last gunman’s eyes glaze over as he dropped in slow motion to the floor. A tendril of smoke rose from Marl Nalor’s nickel-plated gun; the light of self-respect had returned to his eyes. Marl was the man who had put the finishing touches to the fight.

  “Don’t worry about the mess,” Nate, the bartender, said. “We’ll gladly clean it up.”

  The crowd that had gathered to see the shoot-out stood with their mouths agape. The shooting happened so fast that they all saw it differently, but stories of what happened would be told and retold in every saloon and around every campfire for years.

  The fight sobered Marl, and he walked from the Trail’s End with his head up. Vard and Alex made sure he got to his hotel room safely, and then they rode home to Thunder Canyon in the darkness of a different world. Everything had changed.

  * * *

  Eva almost fainted when she saw the blood under Alex’s arm.

  “Oh, Alex,” she cried. “First your ear and now your arm! I’m glad it didn’t go through to your heart!”

  She dressed his wound right away; fortunately, it wasn’t too serious. Vard had not been hurt. Like the wound his father had received in the fight with Tor and Carl, Alex would carry this scar to his grave.

  “Well, son, that was close,” Vard said. They looked at each other and breathed a sigh of relief. “I hope we won’t need to worry about being ambushed or shot at again.”

  When Alex asked his mother if Cindy and Marian had come home last night, she shook her head and looked away.

  A change had come over Vard. He seemed quieter, more distant. he hugged Eva a little tighter while she comforted him, but there was something missing. The strain on Vard’s body and mind was relieved by Eva's closeness, and he went to sleep, but Eva lay staring at the ceiling for hours.

  Eva loved her husband and her son, but everything had changed, and she didn’t know why. She, too, had heard the story the Ute tell of the curse the Ancient ones had placed on Thunder Canyon. That story was fine for superstitious Indians, but it was foolishness. Or was it?

  * * *

  Vard spent his time at the ranch learning the cattle business. He couldn’t help wondering what Frank Fadden had that drew women to him. Frank was a big man—he had black hair, and his dark eyes had a smoky look. He had been a lawman in Dodge and Abilene, which meant that he was probably good with his gun. Vard wondered why he had left that profession. Frank did his job competently, but he seemed to be avoiding Vard. Vard noticed that Eva seemed to enjoy spending time with Frank, and they laughed a lot when they were together. Eva was always a good wife, but lately she seemed less eager in bed.

  * * *

  After the gunfight at the saloon, Alex went looking for Cindy. She hadn’t met him at their rendezvous, and she wasn’t at home. Marian admitted that she had received a note from Cindy saying she was leaving with Raphe, but she didn’t say where they were going.

  Then Alex learned from the banker that Cindy had withdrawn a large amount from their family account. The banker said she didn’t tell him why she needed the money, but he had noticed that Raphe was waiting in the wagon, so he assumed they had gone away somewhere together. Alex wanted to find them and bring Cindy back. He went to talk to the man at the train station and was told that Cindy and Raphe had bought tickets to St. Louis, and they were going somewhere from there. Alex still loved her, but it did him no good. She had made her choice, and he would have to learn to live without her.

  * * *

  Earlier that day, when Alex and Vard rode by the barn on their way into Timberland, Cindy and Raphe were in the hayloft. She had watched them ride by, but Raphe hadn’t seen them because he was looking down at her with his back to the wall, and she was looking over his shoulder. She knew that Alex couldn’t see her and Raphe because it was bright outside and the hayloft was shadowed.

  Seeing Alex leaving the ranch distracted her, and although she lay passively, she was still rewarded with pleasure. Was she falling in love with Raphe?

  “Cindy,” Raphe said interrupting her thoughts, “Why don’t we go to New Orleans? We could have so much fun there. I have many friends there, and I could show you a life so exciting that you would never want to return to this dull life.”

  “What do we do for money? Do you have a job there? Don’t you like to work on the ranch anymore?”

  “Well, you and I could spend more time together, and we’d have so much fun. I’m bored with being a cowboy, and Frank doesn’t need me anymore. How’s about it, Cindy? I know you’ve got a lot of money in the bank. You could draw some out until I find something to do in New Orleans.”

  Raphe continued kissing Cindy, and soon she relented although she didn’t want to because she thought she still loved Alex. She had loved Alex ever since she was old enough to know what love was, but Raphe was right about one thing: Alex was dull. Twice she had tried to get Alex to make love to her, and each time he said they should wait. Well, she was tired of waiting. Raphe didn’t want to wait—he caressed her until she trembled, and it was wonderful. He was the handsomest, most exciting man she had ever known. She couldn’t bear the thought that he might leave, and she might never see him again. She liked Raphe’s strong arms around her.

  “Okay, Raphe,” Cindy agreed, “let’s leave right away before I change my mind!”

  They wasted no time withdrawing funds from the bank and catching the next train going east. As the train was leaving Timberland, they heard gunfire coming from the Trail’s End Saloon, but they were too absorbed in each other to care.

  * * *

  Cindy had never been farther from home than the town of Timberland, so everything was new to her. She and Raphe rode the train to St. Louis and then caught a riverboat to New Orleans. The ride down the river was magnificent and she had the companionship of the handsomest man on the boat.

  The Civil War had left the South devastated, but New Orleans was booming as the central terminus for all the ships that went up or down the Mississippi.

  Since Cindy had plenty of money, they stayed in the best hotels. It
was not unusual for southern women to bring their lovers to hotels, so no one asked if they were married. The bellmen looked at Cindy with knowing smiles. Cindy wondered what they thought about them, but it didn’t matter because she was having such a wonderful time.

  Raphe was the perfect gentleman, and he looked splendid in his dark suits and highly polished shoes. He escorted her to the fancy nightspots and helped her pick out some beautiful gowns like the ones that the fashionable ladies in town wore.

  Cindy loved the southern music, so she occasionally went up on stage and sang with the bands. The club owner asked her to sing in the show, and since most club entertainers were prostitutes, the men who didn’t know Cindy thought she was for sale and offered large sums of money for a few moments of her time. She was flattered that they wanted her enough to pay that much money, but she turned them down with a smile.

  Chapter 12

  Time passed quickly. Cindy and Raphe had lived in New Orleans for four years before Cindy learned that Raphe was not quite the man she thought he was. Mysteriously, all her money was gone—she didn’t know that Raphe had gambled it away.

  In Timberland Raphe had been a cowboy, but in New Orleans he was known as Raphael Rojas, the playboy. Women, both married and single, sought his company, but instead of paying him with money, they bought him fancy clothes and jewelry. Otherwise, the women thought that paying for Raphe would make them no better than the husbands who were paying for their whores.

  Since Cindy’s money had run out, Raphael suggested that she accept some of the extravagant offers made by rich playboys for a few hours in bed with her, but the idea of selling her body was repulsive, and she told Raphe that in no uncertain terms.

  She sang in the Bamboo Curtain for fun and drew a crowd, so Mr. Berk, the owner, offered to pay her to sing. But without her knowledge, Cindy’s earnings went directly to Raphe, who immediately gambled the money away.

  * * *

  One night, Raphael introduced Cindy to a good-looking young man named Richard Rowland. Richard was the son of a prosperous businessman only a couple of years older than Cindy. Richard fell madly in love with Cindy and wanted to marry her, but when Raphael told him that she was a whore, that ended his desire to marry her. Still attracted to her, he paid Raphe a lot of money for her services without her knowing. . . . Cindy was not used to drinking, so it didn’t take much for Raphe to get her so drunk that she was unable to make rational decisions. She was flattered by the attention she was getting from the rich and handsome Richard who pursued her with a passion that overwhelmed her drunken resistance. He was young, strong, and vigorous, and Cindy enjoyed him more than she could have imagined.

  Soon Raphael brought other men to her and insisted that she earn money by satisfying their needs. He explained that if she didn’t make money, the hotel would throw them out. Raphael didn’t really love her and didn’t care how she earned the money, so when she still refused to work as a whore, he beat her and then left.

  Cindy awoke the following morning bruised and sore. Raphael was nowhere to be found, so she asked the bell captain where he had gone.

  “Mr. Rojas left during the night with a wealthy, widowed woman,” the bell captain replied. “he told me to tell you that the hotel is evicting you, and that the owner of the Bamboo Curtain will take care of you while he’s gone.”

  Before Cindy could finish her breakfast, two burly men came and escorted her to the Bamboo Curtain. Only one of the men did the talking. His name was Gripton; he was about six foot four, with a heavy torso. His silent partner was even bigger, a dark hulk of a man who walked like a gorilla.

  Raphe had brought Cindy to the Bamboo Curtain several times, and she knew it was a front for an expensive whorehouse, but since she had no money and no other place to go, she had no choice.

  The room they escorted her to was simply appointed with a bed and a small dresser. At noon, two beautiful dark-skinned girls brought her the midday meal. The girls were nice and treated her with utmost respect. After Cindy ate, they bathed and dressed her in the prettiest gown Cindy had ever worn. It was a royal blue form-fitted silk fabric gown with white puffy sleeves. The low neckline was bordered in white lace, which enhanced her fair, porcelain skin. The girls pinned her hair in such a way that her golden curls dropped onto her bare shoulders.

  Cindy looked and felt beautiful, so she decided to venture out. When she tried to open the door, it was locked. The girls must have accidentally flipped the latch when they left, she thought. She knocked on the door to attract someone’s attention, and the two burly men who had escorted her to the nightclub answered the knock. Cindy smiled and thanked them for opening the door, but when she tried to leave, they restrained her.

  “Why are you stopping me?” Cindy asked.

  “It’s for your protection,” Gripton told her, “and to preserve our boss’s investment. Mr. Berk, the owner of this place, paid your pimp thousands of dollars for you, and Mr. Berk never pays for anything without making a profit. He’ll treat you well and allow you to buy your freedom by paying him back what he paid for you. If you need anything, all you have to do is ask and we’ll get it for you, but in the meantime we’re to watch you day and night until Mr. Berk tells us otherwise.”

  “How can I pay Mr. Berk back?” Cindy started to wring her hands. “Raphael took all my money, and I’m all alone,” she cried. She was beginning to realize the desperate situation she was in.

  Gripton replied, “You can, and you will, pay Mr. Berk back by working in his nightclub. Mr. Berk will provide everything you need, and he’ll treat you well because unless you’re beautiful, you’re worth nothing. And you can’t be beautiful unless you’re well cared for. A professional whore will train you in the techniques of pleasing men. She’ll be here soon, so relax and get ready.”

  There’s that word “relax” again, Cindy thought. The last time I heard that, I was being raped. It looks like I’m going to be raped again. Only this time Alex isn’t here to save me, and strange men will rape me again and again until I pay the owner back the money he paid Raphe.

  “What am I supposed to do?” Cindy asked Gripton with tears in her eyes.

  “You’ll do your duty tonight, and every night, by singing for the customers, and then you’ll be auctioned off to the highest bidder. You’ll take the highest bidder to a room that has been provided for just one purpose, and you’ll make him happy by tending to his needs. For a whore as gorgeous as you are, that should be easy. If you’d like, we’ll take you to the saloon and show you where you’ll be singing, and you can meet some of the girls you’ll be working with.”

  Cindy realized there was nothing else she could do at the moment. “Well, I guess I’d better meet those girls. It’s better than being locked up in this room,” Cindy said angrily and dried her eyes. “The man I trusted brought me here several times as a customer, but I never thought I’d be working as a whore.”

  “Perhaps you’d rather mop floors and clean spittoons?” Gripton said with a sneer. “But you’re too beautiful for that. Now sit back and wait for a lady to escort you.”

  I’ll let you know after my first night as a whore, Cindy thought with a sinking heart. A ruthless man was holding her prisoner. She was friendless and penniless in a strange town. Oh, Alex, where are you tonight?

  Cindy paced the floor wondering what she could do. There was a knock on the door, and a stunningly beautiful young woman entered the room. The professional whore looked Cindy up and down.

  “My name is Andrea,” she said with a delightful foreign accent. “You’ll bring a big price. I’ll teach you how to please your customers, but from what I heard from your friend Raphael, you don’t need much training. If you satisfy your customers quickly, you’ll make a lot of money. Being a whore isn’t all that bad.”

  Chapter 13

  Alex remained in Timberland and was trying to get on with his life. He worked at the Bar H as a cowboy for a time and was liked by the men, but his mind was muddled. He needed time to
sort things out and to try to forget Cindy. He decided to live with the Ute at the Indian village.

  Morning Flower showed Alex the quiet pleasure a man can share with a woman who loves him. The two walked nightly beside Thunder Creek. Morning Flower loved him with a tenderness that broke his heart because he couldn’t return her love. He was still in love with Cindy.

  He helped Gray Wolf and Soaring Eagle drive a small herd of cattle from the Bar H and put them in a corral they had built downwind from the village. He tried to show his two Ute friends how to raise their own beef, but they preferred to hunt.

  Morning Flower learned to speak English, read books, and use numbers. What Alex taught her enriched her life as she learned about a world she had never known. He offered to pay for her education so she could decide if she wanted to enter the larger world, but she chose to stay with her people.

  Alex was surprised to learn that Morning Flower’s mother died giving birth to her, and her father was a white mountain man. She was only three years old when her father died in a flashflood while he was out hunting, and then her grandfather, Talking Drum, raised her.

 

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