Friends and Enemies

by Stephen A. Bly

  No … no … no!

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Jamie Sue jumped when the telephone rang. Dropping her crocheting on the sofa, she scurried into the kitchen. If I’m ever mending when that thing rings, I’ll sew my fingers together.

  “I need to speak to Fortune!” The shouting voice was almost too high for a man, too low for a woman.

  “This is Mrs. Robert Fortune,” Jamie Sue replied.

  “Are you the wife?”

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “This is Raxton. I need to speak to Robert Fortune.”

  “Mr. Raxton, I’m sorry, but my husband is not here.”

  “Miss Raxton!”

  Jamie Sue pulled back the receiver and stared at it. Oh, dear … “Excuse me, the, eh, telephone is a little scratchy. May I be of some help to you?”

  “I doubt it. Fortune said if we wanted to come to Deadwood, he’d line up some backers for our mine.”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, we’re here!”

  “In Deadwood?”

  “There ain’t telephones out at the mine. At least, not until that other Fortune, the one with gray hair and dancin’ eyes, strings one out to us.”

  “That’s Sammy. He should be in town. Would you like to speak to him?”

  “Yep. Put him on.”

  “He’s not here … this is …”

  “How many telephones you Fortunes got?”

  “Samuel owns the telephone exchange,” Jamie Sue explained. “Just ring the operator and ask for number 1 or number 10.”

  “Where’s Robert at?”

  “He’s on a train to Rapid City and won’t be back until late tomorrow.”

  “What’s he doin’ there?”

  “Miss Raxton, that’s his job. He works for the railroad.”

  “He said he’d meet us here. What are we going to do?”

  “Where are you?”

  “At the train depot. We need a place to stay.”

  “Why don’t you register at a hotel? Is money a problem?”

  “We’ve got enough gold to buy us a hotel, I reckon. But they won’t let us register. They claim we’re too dirty. Ain’t that somethin’?”

  Jamie Sue shifted the receiver to the other ear. I’ve never heard of any hotel refusing gold-paying customers. “Well, you will want to clean up to meet with financial backers.”

  “How can we clean up if a hotel won’t have us? All the bath houses are for men. We ain’t goin’ into one of them.”

  “Miss Raxton, would you just wait at the depot? I’ll make some arrangements for you.”

  “They already said we have to wait outside. I reckon we are a little rank.”

  “Miss Raxton, how many rooms will you be needing?”

  “Two … Augusta and me can bunk together. Then we’ll need one for Puddin.”

  “Who?”

  “Our crew boss, Oscar Puddin. Byron, I mean Mr. Chambers, already has a room at the Merchant’s Hotel, but he’s up at Lead talkin’ to some men about our mine. He won’t be back until tonight.”

  “I’ll make some telephone calls and then come down to the depot. I will see you shortly,” Jamie Sue said.

  “I’ll be the one with the dirty brown dress and the trapdoor rifle.”

  “And I’ll be wearing a straw hat with a yellow ribbon.”

  Jamie Sue sauntered into the entry and began tying on her hat in front of the mirror. I’ll call Abby … Rebekah … Dacee June … perhaps the March sisters can take the children … Abby will find the clothing, Rebekah the … and I’ll … Lord, this is what I’m meant to do. To help others. They need me and for the first time in my life, I have a team to help me. I like that. I like that a lot.

  Patricia and Veronica reached the front door at the exact same moment and argued over who should enter first. While Veronica danced in the doorway, tongue-chewing Patricia shoved past her.

  “Mama,” Patricia began, “can Veronica and I go with Little Frank and the boys down to watch the horses run laps?”

  “You are not going to a horse race.”

  “Please, Mama,” Veronica pleaded. “This is just warm-up laps. The race isn’t until Sunday. Everyone is going.”

  Jamie Sue picked some lint off Patricia’s navy blue dress. “Everyone?”

  “Little Frank, Quintin, Fern, Sarah, Jimmy, Hank …”

  Jamie Sue raised her eyebrows. “Rebekah is letting Hank go off Forest Hill without her supervision?”

  “Yes, Amber is going up to get him,” Veronica explained.

  Patricia ran her tongue all the way around her lips, then puckered them. “That’s not all who will be there.”

  “Shhh!” Veronica said.

  “And just who else is going to be there?” Jamie Sue reached over and straightened the lace collar on Veronica’s navy blue dress.

  “Tricia,” Veronica fumed. “Why did you have to …”

  Patricia bit her lip. “Eachan and …”

  Jamie Sue gently lifted Patricia’s chin until their eyes met. “The Moraines will let Eachan be seen in public with that many Fortunes?”

  “Mrs. Moraine said he could go places with us but not come over to our house,” Patricia announced.

  “Well, that is an improvement.”

  Veronica stood in one place, rocking back and forth on the toes of her black lace-up boots. “And Curly Mac will be there too.”

  Jamie Sue stared into the entry hall mirror and adjusted her hat. “Curly Mac is in Deadwood?”

  “His aunt sold her saloon in Central City,” Veronica reported.

  Jamie Sue stepped to the open doorway. I don’t think I’ll need a wrap. The clouds are very scattered.

  “She’s buying a saloon in Montana City,” Veronica continued. “But they are going to live at the Merchant’s Hotel for a few weeks.”

  Jamie Sue turned back and stood between the girls. “And just how did you learn all of this?”

  “He told me …”

  Jamie Sue crossed her arms and could feel a tightness in her neck. “But you two were just supposed to take the mince cookies to Grandpa Brazos.”

  “But Mama, Deadwood is a small town. Sometimes we see people on the street and we don’t want to shun them,” Veronica explained.

  “Please, please …” Patricia chimed in.

  “Yes, well … go on. But this is your test. If you get into trouble over this outing, it will be a long time before I’ll let you do it again.”

  Patricia grinned. “Thank you, Mama.”

  “Exactly what would you consider getting into trouble?” Veronica mumbled.

  Patricia grabbed her arm and dragged her out the door.

  The four-car train was one hour and thirty-two minutes late getting into Rapid City. Robert rode in the open-door baggage car with two wounded prisoners, a busted trunk, and two-thirds of the original currency.

  The sheriff, two deputies, various railroad officials, and Stillman Taite met him as he debarked.

  “You look like you was drug behind the train all the way from Deadwood,” Taite called out.

  Robert tried brushing off his ripped wool trousers. “Stillman, get us two sturdy horses and a little grub. We have thieves to catch, and they have a head start. We’ll take the afternoon train back as far as we can.”

  “Your telegraph said it was Guthrie Holter. I can’t hardly believe it.”

  “The lady stole the diamonds, and he drove the wagon. No mistaking that part.”

  “What direction is Guthrie headin’?”

  “Back along the telegraph road,” Robert reported.

  “Toward Deadwood?”

  “At least, to start with.”

  “You didn’t try to stop them?”

  “A bullet could’ve hit the boys, and there was no way I’d catch a buckboard on foot. I figured it best if they didn’t know I spotted them.”

  Taite rubbed his chin. “Yeah, that was probably best.”

  “We’ll find that out soon enough.”

 
It was two hectic hours before the afternoon northbound pulled out. Robert sent Taite to ride the passenger car. He rode with the horses in a flatcar pulled behind the caboose. He sat on the floor of the car with his back toward the engine and watched the disappearing scenery behind the train.

  Lord, maybe I’m not the best one for this job. If I’d been doin’ a better job, maybe I could have seen this happening. I hired a brawler in the train yard. And I hired wrong. I thought I knew the man. I instantly decided about him, and I was wrong.

  All this talk about being separated from a wife and boys … he was suckerin’ me all along… . He wrote that note to Moraine on my stationery. He figured I’d either get shot or delayed. It would have been easier if he was on the train. Moraine, at least, was an open and honest enemy. Better to have honest enemies than deceptive friends.

  The most suspicious person in the railroad car was the one flirting with me. Lord, I’m ashamed I was so easy a target. I’ll capture Holter, then resign. The railroad needs a better man for the job. I can always sell bolts for Todd or install telephone lines for Sammy.

  A man who can’t tell friends from enemies shouldn’t be put in a responsible job. Maybe army life isolated me too much. I suspected Stillman Taite but hired him anyway. I trusted Guthrie …

  Lord, I don’t know if I’m more disgusted with Guthrie Holter … or me. But I’ll catch him. And he’ll face a just punishment.

  And the woman too … I’ll …

  The Cokesburg siding was water and wood only. There was no building. No platform. And no loading ramp.

  Robert and Stillman mounted the horses while they were still loaded on the flatcar.

  “We going to jump them off the side?” Stillman asked.

  Robert pointed to the opposite direction. “Let’s try the uphill side.”

  “If we run them toward the back maybe we could leap over to that embankment. It wouldn’t be any worse than jumpin’ a crick.”

  “You’re an optimistic cuss, Taite. Let’s do it.”

  Stillman Taite stood in the stirrups, then shoved his hat back so that one lone tuft of hair lapped down across his forehead. “‘Course, if we slip down between the flatcar and that embankment, the horse will kick us to death.”

  “Then I suggest we don’t slip!” Robert sunk his silver rowels into the flanks of the black horse. At the same time he slapped Taite’s chestnut with his hat. Both startled horses bolted in terror toward the back of the flatcar, their hooves thundering panic on the rough wooden floor of the car. As if a team pulling a carriage of fear, they turned in unison and leaped for the embankment.

  Robert thrust his full weight on the balls of his feet. As he rode the stirrups, his knees flexed, his head leaned over the horse’s neck.

  Taite’s chestnut staggered, but Fortune’s mount didn’t. They let both horses run the “scared-to-death” out of them. When they finally reined up at least nine hundred yards from the track, Stillman Taite yanked off his round bowler and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

  “Mr. Fortune, remind me never to do that again.”

  Robert could feel his white shirt soaked with perspiration. “I trust that’s the last stupid thing I do today.”

  Taite slipped off his horse and began to tighten the cinch. “Where do we go from here?”

  “We follow that telegraph road.”

  “How can we follow tracks on a road?”

  “I have a clue.”

  “Oh?”

  “When they pulled out, I went down and looked at the tracks. One of the right wheels was repaired by three carriage bolts.”

  “That would be a bumpy ride if you was in a hurry.”

  Robert yanked the latigo tight on the Texas saddle, then remounted. “I figure if they head northeast, they don’t have to be in a hurry.”

  “Why northeast? There’s nothin’ up there.”

  “Precisely.”

  Robert rode on the east side of the telegraph road, Taite on the right. They had ridden at a medium walk for an hour and a half when Robert shouted, “Here it is!”

  “Is that a road?”

  “It’s a wagon track with three round-top carriage bolts sticking through the rim.”

  “He must have a four-hour head start. He could be in Wyomin’ by now.”

  “Why leave the cover of the Black Hills and wander out on the prairie? Those boys will get tired. They’ll spend the night in the hills for sure,” Robert asserted.

  “You think they’ll head for Myersville or Diamond City or one of those other gold camps?”

  “If I was them, I’d just hole up in one of those limestone caves. Todd says there’s dozens of them up here.”

  Taite fingered his thick handlebar mustache. “It will be hard to find them then.”

  Robert spurred the horse into a trot. “But not many of them will be accessible to a wagon,” he called back.

  The sun slipped down to the west. The ponderosa pine shadows now blended into night shadows. Robert and Stillman continued to scour every coulee and draw wide enough to drive a wagon through.

  “Boss, I can’t see ground clear. We should stop,” Taite insisted.

  Robert reined up and rubbed the black horse’s neck. “I reckon you’re right. Did you find any grub?”

  “Six pork chops and a dozen cold biscuits,” Taite reported.

  In the shadows Robert glanced down at his open, now-buttonless vest. Jamie Sue, if you could see Captain Fortune now. “Cold pork chops and biscuits? Then it’s time to stop. Let’s ride up this little creek until the water is running clean.”

  Miss Sandra Raxton was, without a doubt, the dirtiest woman Jamie Sue Fortune had ever seen.

  That is, until she spied Miss Augusta Raxton.

  Lord, how does a sane, civilized person ever get that bad? I don’t know whether to cry or get the smelling salts. I trust I know what I’m doing. If You sent me to a primitive land, I suppose I’d do the same. It could be worse … but not much. I’m not sure the others knew what they were getting into.

  After polite introductions from ten feet away, Jamie Sue led the Raxton sisters up the alley to the back of the Paris Dress Shoppe. Two nicely dressed women waited at the top of the rough wooden stairway. An elegantly dressed woman stood in the dress shop’s back door.

  “Miss Sandra Raxton, and Miss Augusta Raxton, this is Abby Fortune. She’s Sammy’s wife …”

  “No wonder he’s as happy as a pup with a new bone!” Sandra chuckled.

  “She owns the dress shop and will be selecting some ready-made dresses for you,” Jamie Sue announced.

  “Don’t reckon we’ve ever had ready-mades,” Augusta added. “Not since we was little girls.”

  “We haven’t had any new dresses since we were little,” Sandra added. “Mama died when we were young. We’re payin’ for these dresses. We got gold.” She glanced up and down the alley, then leaned so close that Jamie Sue had to cover her mouth to keep from coughing. “I’ve got eight thousand dollars worth of gold on me at this very minute!”

  Jamie Sue watched Abby roll her eyes. She tried to smile at Sandra Raxton. Where in the world does a woman that thin hide eight thousand dollars worth of gold? I don’t think I want to know.

  “We’re kind of tall, and skinny as a post. You don’t have somethin’ that would make us look fluffed up, do you?” Augusta asked. “Not like you two, of course. We don’t expect miracles.”

  Abby stepped back a bit to take a breath of air, then smiled. “I might just have something. Now that I know your sizes, I’ll see what we can do. Undoubtedly there will be some alterations needed.”

  “Alterations in what?” Sandra Raxton demanded.

  “Why, in the dresses, of course. Ready-made dresses never fit anyone just right.” Abby slipped back into the store and closed the door behind her.

  Jamie Sue led the sisters up the stairway. “Now, this tall, stately lady is my sister-in-law, Rebekah Fortune.”

  “Which one is she married to?” Sandra Raxto
n asked.

  “Todd. I don’t believe you’ve met him yet,” Rebekah reported.

  “Ain’t you got none that aren’t married?” Augusta asked.

  “Augusta Raxton, you told me you already picked out a beau!” her sister chided.

  Jamie Sue scurried up a few more stairs. A beau? My word, I hope he lost his nose in the war … Lord, how shameful of me. I’m glad Your love for us isn’t dependent on our looks … or our smell! “Ladies, this young woman is my sister-in-law, Dacee June.”

  “You mean there’s four Fortune boys?” Miss Sandra quizzed.

  “No,” Dacee June grinned. “I’m their sister, Dacee June Fortune Toluca. We’ve got two tubs ready. One in the room on the left and one on the right.”

  “Private baths? Unused water?” Sandra added. “Ain’t we actin’ nobby?”

  “Rebekah is in charge of washing your hair and fixing it. She’s very good at that!” Jamie Sue reported.

  “I don’t know that it’s time to wash my hair,” Augusta protested.

  “Nonsense, I can still see the gold dust from the mine stuck to it.” Rebekah stepped to the side and took three deep breaths. “When was the last time you washed it?”

  “Last summer,” Augusta declared.

  “No it wasn’t. It was the summer before, in Miles City,” Sandra challenged.

  “How about that time we got thrown out of the coach in the middle of the Yellowstone River?” Augusta reminded her sister.

  “That don’t count for hair-washin’. Does it, Mrs. Fortune?” Sandra huffed.

  “Certainly not,” Jamie Sue declared. “Dacee June is in charge of hauling hot water for you, Miss Sandra. And I’ll do the same for Miss Augusta. We’ll help you scrub up too.”

  “We don’t need no help takin’ a bath,” Augusta announced.

  “Oh,” Dacee June added, “it’s what all the rich ladies do. They have bath attendants. We’re volunteering this one time to give you a taste of being wealthy mine owners. You’ll have to get used to it sooner or later.”

  “Well, if this is what the rich do …” Sandra grinned, revealing perfectly straight, very white teeth. “I reckon we’ll jist have to get used to it.”

  “Are you ready for this?” Jamie Sue whispered to Rebekah.