Legend of the Lost

by Dicksion, William Wayne

  Chapter 15

  A Flying W rider saw Alex coming and rode his horse at a run to notify Joe Tyler. As Alex rode up, Joe, a young man of Alex’s age, tall and lanky, stood on his porch holding a double-barreled shotgun, and it was pointed at Alex.

  “You’ve got some gall riding in here like this. What do you want?” Joe asked.

  “We’ve never met,” Alex answered, “but I’ve heard from people whom I trust that you’re a good man. If you are, we will in time become friends. I think you know me. My name is Alex Vanor, and I’m looking for the sniper who shot my father. he was killed crossing the creek near the entrance to this ranch, so this seemed like the obvious place to start. Can we talk?”

  “Unbuckle that gun belt real slow and hang it on your saddle horn. Then get off that horse on this side so I can keep an eye on you. We’ll talk while I keep this shotgun pointed at you. If you don’t like the terms, then I suggest you turn that horse around and ride out.”

  Alex smiled as he slowly unbuckled his gun belt. “You’re talking straight, and I think that what I was told about you is true.”

  “I’ve heard a lot of stories about what happened in that saloon,” Joe said. “Everybody said it was a fair fight, and if I was you, and I had your skills, I might have done the same thing. But that was four years ago. Why are you here now?”

  “My father never hurt anyone who wasn’t trying to hurt him,” Alex said. “A few months ago, he was ambushed on the road passing this ranch not more than three miles from here.” Alex held up the spent shell. “He was killed by the bullet from this cartridge. I’m looking for the man who fired it.”

  Joe took the shell and examined it. “Well, I didn’t do it, and I don’t know who did. Rumor has it that he was killed with a Henry. My foreman owns a Henry, but he hasn’t fired it for years. He keeps it stored in his closet. Come, I’ll show you.” Joe pointed the barrel of the shotgun at the ground as he led the way.

  He’s told me the truth, Alex thought. He didn’t do it.

  Joe looked behind the door where Pete Cayman usually kept the Henry rifle. It wasn’t there. Joe looked confused as he continued searching through Pete’s things. He turned to Alex looking contrite. “It isn’t here! If you’ll wait, I’ll call Pete and ask him about it.”

  “Don’t bother. Your foreman had no reason to kill my father, and I don’t think he did. I know you didn’t, but if you find that rifle, or if you find out who has it, I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know—because I’m going to keep looking.” Alex turned to look directly at Joe. “There’s no reason for you and me to be enemies. I’d like to be your friend.”

  “Being friends with you right now is a little sudden for me,” Joe responded. “I’ve been expecting you to come a-shooting, and I’ve heard how good you are. I don’t think you can blame me for being a little careful.”

  “If you had walked out on your porch with a henry in your hand instead of that double-barreled shotgun, I would have killed you.” Alex tipped his hat and extended his hand in a gesture of friendship. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore, and I’m serious about wanting to be your friend.”

  Joe cautiously laid the shotgun down and hesitatingly shook Alex’s hand. “I’m not a drinking man, but this is a thing to celebrate. I’ll buy you a drink next time you’re in town.”

  “I’ll drink it,” Alex said, smiling.

  * * *

  Alex rode back to Timberland feeling frustrated and alone. The search for his father’s killer was proving to be a real struggle. It helped to voice his disappointment, so he talked to his horse.

  “Midnight, I’d sure like to know who Pete Cayman loaned that rifle to. Maybe he didn’t loan it; maybe someone stole it.”

  Midnight snorted as though he understood. When they got to the stable, Alex curried Midnight and gave him a bucket of oats.

  It was getting dark, and the Trail’s End was filling up. It was the most popular saloon in town, and drunks sometimes talk, so Alex went there to see what might turn up. The noise was reverberating off the walls; the smell of whiskey, chewing tobacco, and smoke blanketed the room.

  The bartender saw Alex come in and spoke to the bouncer, who hurried to Alex and said respectfully, “Mr. Vanor, sit anywhere you want. I’ll bring a bottle of our best whiskey and one of our prettiest girls.” he pointed to a table. “here, take this table; I’ll have these guys move.”

  The men took one look at Alex and started to move.

  “Keep your seats, gentlemen,” Alex said apologetically, “and have a drink on me. I’ll take that empty table over there.”

  The men looked relieved and sat down. The barmaid who had been assigned to Alex heard what he said about buying a round for the table, knew what the men were drinking, and hurried to get their drinks.

  “Do you know who that is?” Alex overheard one of the men ask.

  “No, but one look at him and the way people react to him tells me all I need to know.”

  The pretty barmaid wore a gaudy red dress with a low-cut bodice. her hair was pinned back to enhance her oval face and fair complexion. She sat down at Alex’s table without being invited.

  “My name’s Elsa,” she smiled. “Would you like some company?”

  Something about Elsa reminded Alex of Cindy, and he wondered if there were a young men somewhere who was in love with this barmaid and wanted to marry her. he also wondered why a girl like this was working as a whore in a saloon.

  “Sure, I’d like having a pretty girl to talk to.”

  “We’d be more comfortable in my room,” Elsa smiled enticingly. “I don’t get paid for talking. I make my living by satisfying the sexual needs of men.”

  It had been a long time since Alex spent his last night with Morning Flower, and he needed a woman, but there were only a few things he was afraid of, and a woman was one of them. He didn’t trust women. Women had the capacity to hurt men, and men had no honorable way to defend themselves.

  “I’m comfortable right here,” he said, “and conversation is all I want. I’ll pay you for just talking.”

  “The house gets a cut, you know.”

  “Don’t worry about the house. The bartender knows I’m good for it.”

  “The girls are going to think I’m losing my appeal. Don’t you like me?”

  Men outnumbered women twenty to one and women were in high demand. Cowboys were paid fifteen dollars a month plus room and board. An attractive whore made more money in one night than a cowboy made in three months. Women were limited to teaching school, working as waitresses, or clerking in stores, and if they didn’t get married right away, many had to work in saloons. Saloon girls sold drinks, entertained, and prostituted.

  Elsa counted on selling herself for livelihood.

  “Of course I like you. You’re very attractive . . . . Oh, all right, we’ll go to your room so you won’t lose your reputation, but we’ll still just talk,” he said, and followed her to her room. The room was peaceful and attractive with soft velvet drapes hanging from the ceiling to the floor. The bed was graced with pink, fluffy pillows and looked inviting. They sat in a beautiful red velvet loveseat.

  “What do you want to talk about?” Elsa asked. “You don’t look like a man who likes to just talk.”

  “I want you to tell me about you. Where did you come from? how did you end up here? What will you do when you can’t do this anymore? You can’t do this forever, you know.”

  “Why do you want to know all that? What business is it of yours?” she answered in anger, but Alex saw that she was curious.

  “I’ve been hurt by a woman,” he replied, “and I want to know why.”

  “She slept with another man, huh? He must have been really something if she left you for him.”

  “Is that why you left the man who loved you? Did you meet a man who was really something?”

  “Women have needs too, you know,” she retorted, still a little angry. “A man sees a beautiful girl, takes her to bed, and he’s co
nsidered manly. A woman sees a man who excites her, and if she sleeps with him, she’s considered a tramp. Explain that!”

  “I can’t; that’s why I want to talk to you. You’re lovely. Any man would want you. That’s why I know that there’s a man somewhere who loves you and wants to make a life with you.”

  “Yeah, there was a man like that back in Ohio,” she sighed, “but I don’t think he’ll have me any more.” her face turned into a scowl.

  “Why? What did you do?”

  Elsa offered Alex a glass of wine, filled her glass, and took a sip. “Well, it’s a long story, but you’re paying for the time, so I’ll tell you. I became a woman at a young age and filled out quickly, and by the time I was thirteen, men were watching me walk down the street. I liked to tease them by displaying myself while I pretended not to notice. I had a boyfriend named Greg who really liked me, and I liked him.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  “I knew I looked good to men, and I was at the age when a girl wants to confirm her attractiveness, so I started looking at older men. Then something happened.” Elsa paused, wondering if she should go on. Alex watched her, waiting to hear the rest of the story, so she continued.

  “The trail from our school went through a wooded area. One evening, as I was walking home alone, two high school boys pulled me into the woods and raped me.”

  “Did it repulse you? Frighten you? What?”

  “I was frightened. I fought them because I didn’t know what they were going to do, and I didn’t want to be forced to do anything. I wasn’t strong enough to hold them off, so after a while I just lay there while they took turns.”

  “That must have hurt . . . ?”

  “I was more frightened and humiliated than hurt. I don’t know why, but I felt guilty.” Elsa was reliving the episode in her mind. “I hated what they were doing, but I might have enjoyed it if they had been gentle instead of forcing me.”

  Alex nodded, and Elsa continued. “I never told anyone, and I kept seeing Greg for about another year. Being raised the way he was, he wanted to wait until we married. I didn’t want to wait; I wanted him to make love to me. I guess being raped made me feel unworthy.”

  Elsa sighed, but since Alex didn’t show disapproval, she went on. “An older man who worked for my father lived in a cottage behind the barn. They called him Big Mike. every night before going to bed, he bathed in a water tank behind the barn. I had never seen a man without his clothes on, and I wanted to know what one looked like. one evening after Big Mike came in from the field I hid in the barn and watched him bathe.”

  Elsa giggled and then continued. “He was almost as old as my father, but he had big, bulging muscles, and he was beautiful. Night after night I went to bed thinking about Big Mike. Then one warm summer night when I looked out the window the full moon lit the pathway to the barn. I got up and went through the barn and tried the door to Big Mike’s cottage. The door was unlocked, so I entered. Moonlight lit the room and there was Big Mike lying on the bed, naked. I just stood there looking at him. I had watched him bathe, but something about seeing him lying there made me want to crawl into bed with him.”

  Elsa looked at Alex and giggled again recollecting what happened. “When I got into the bed, he awoke with a start, took one look at me, and I could see that he was scared. I quickly stood up and let him see me completely nude, and then I watched his fear slowly fade. I know now that he couldn’t say no, because a woman is like a rose, and a rose is never more beautiful than when its petals are first opening. Plenty of men would die for what I was offering Big Mike.”

  Elsa thought she was talking too much so she paused. Alex kept looking at her so she continued. “When Big Mike recovered enough to talk, he looked at me and said, ‘elsa, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?’ At first, I couldn’t say a word. Then I reached out to him and asked him to hold me. I told him, ‘I want to feel your arms around me. I know you want me; I’ve felt your eyes on me when I come into the barn, and I liked it when you looked at me. Don’t you want to hold me?’

  “He still looked frightened. ‘of course I want to hold you,’ he said. ‘You’re beautiful, but I could get into a lot of trouble. You’re only fifteen. If anyone ever finds out that you were in my bedroom, I could be hanged.’”

  Elsa stopped to watch Alex stand up and pour some more wine, and then she continued. “I reassured him that I wouldn’t tell anyone; I just need to be held. I took his hand and laid it on my breast. his hand was calloused, but it was strong. My knees turned to jelly, and I pulled his face to mine and kissed him.”

  She enjoyed thinking about Big Mike. “Then he made love to me. He was gentle, and my body responded. After about an hour, Big Mike got a bucket of water from the trough and bathed me where only my mother had bathed me before. Then I put my clothes on, sneaked back into the house, and went to my bed. I had no trouble sleeping that time. When I got up the next morning, I awoke to a world that I had never known. I felt exhilarated and vibrantly alive. I was hooked. I went back to that cottage every chance I got and was never disappointed.”

  She smiled as she took another sip of wine. “Am I boring you?” Elsa asked.

  “No, please continue.” Elsa was telling Alex what he needed to know, and he didn’t want her to stop.

  “Well, one afternoon, Mother and Father went to town, and I took advantage of the opportunity and went to see Big Mike. Unfortunately, that was the same time Greg decided to come over. When Greg didn’t find me in the house, he came to the barn looking for me and saw me with Big Mike. I looked past Big Mike and saw Greg’s eyes registering pure disbelief. I watched him turn around and heard him hurry away. That’s the last time I ever saw him.” She looked down and shook her head.

  “I knew that I could never explain Big Mike to Greg, so I left home and finished high school at another town. I loved Greg, but at night in my dorm I lay awake and dreamed about Big Mike.”

  The way Elsa was touching him and what she was saying was exciting Alex. She noticed, but he had said that he only wanted to talk, so she went on.

  “On special occasions I went home, but Greg never even attempted to see me. I had my eighteenth birthday before I graduated from high school. I found out later that Mother knew what I was doing, and when I left, she replaced me in Big Mike’s bed. Mother was a little older than Big Mike, but she was still beautiful.

  “I went home one day when I wasn’t expected. Father was away buying cattle, so the house was empty. I looked in the cabin and there was Mother. She and Big Mike were so occupied that they never even knew I was there. I quietly closed the door to the cottage and went back to my room at the dorm. I dropped my scarf when I closed the cottage door but didn’t notice it was missing until I got back to the dorm.

  “At the time, I couldn’t understand why Mother would be in bed with Big Mike. I knew she loved my father and for sure my father adored her.” Elsa paused as she pulled the pins out of her hair and started to unbutton her blouse. Alex couldn’t help but stare.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said.

  Elsa smiled and casually continued. “It was strange watching Mother with Big Mike.” She smiled a knowing smile, which soon changed into a frown. “I wanted to go to Greg, but how could I explain? I rummaged through the house, took all the money I could find, and caught the train west. I’ve been out here ever since.”

  Alex searched Elsa's eyes. “Do you enjoy the men you sell your services to?”

  “Sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t, but I always try to make sure they enjoy me.”

  “Would you go back to Greg if he wanted you?”

  “Of course! Every woman wants babies and a family. It’s every whore’s dream to have a man love her enough to take care of her and the children they produce. It seems strange, but I learned that from my mother.”

  “If you and Greg should get married, would you dream of Big Mike some night and wish it was Big Mike you were in bed with?”

  “I might—no, not just might�
�I probably would. I’m not going to lie to you; every woman at times fantasizes about her special man or some man she saw that day that she found attractive. What harm is there in that?” elsa looked directly at Alex. “I’ve told you my story—now tell me yours.”

  Alex pulled Elsa from the loveseat and placed her on the bed. “Elsa, I’ll have to tell my story later.”

  * * *

  After they were both satisfied and rested a bit, with Elsa cradled in his arms, Alex said, “My story is the same story Greg might tell. I loved a beautiful girl named Cindy, whom I had known all my life. I thought we both understood that we would be married when we grew up, but two strangers had their way with her just after I told her that we should wait because she was too young. Like the boys who raped you, one of the men held her down while the other forced her to have sex. I hit the one raping her on the head with my pistol and chased both of them away. At that time, I didn’t know that she had been raped. Later my father, her father, and I went to seek revenge and killed the men who raped her. Soon after, this beautiful girl met a handsome rogue, and he seduced her.”

  “After Cindy was raped, did she offer herself to you?”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “And did you give her what she wanted?”