Long Road to Cheyenne

by Charles G. West

  “Good,” Bob said, “let’s go, then.” He threw a hand up on Cam’s shoulder as they started out toward the hotel. “I expect you’ll want a room for the night, too.”

  “Ah, no.” Cam hesitated. “I don’t need a room. I expect I’ll just find a place in the barn to bed down.” He had to conserve what cash he had, so he didn’t intend to squander any of it on a hotel bed.

  Bob suspected as much but refrained from expressing it for fear of embarrassing him. “Sometimes the hotel rooms can get a little stuffy this time of year. You’re welcome to bunk in the coach if you wanna.”

  “I’ll take you up on that,” Cam quickly accepted. As far as he was concerned, that was almost as plush.

  “Might as well put your horse in the stable,” Larry suggested, “feed him some grain. Fred can put it on the company’s bill.”

  “Much obliged,” Cam said.

  “You watch ol’ Bob when we get in there,” Larry whispered to Cam.

  All three men nodded respectfully toward Mary Bishop, who was already seated at a table with Grace and Emma. She acknowledged the greetings with a pleasant smile. Bob headed straight for a table opposite the kitchen door and seated himself so as to be able to see partway inside. He turned his plate, which had been lying facedown, over, tied the ends of his napkin around his neck, and waited anxiously. In a few minutes, a small, trim Oriental woman emerged from the kitchen carrying a large metal coffeepot. She smiled in their direction as she passed by on her way to fill Mary’s cup. Bob’s eyes followed her every step of the way. Larry nudged Cam and motioned toward his partner, grinning.

  “Ah, Mr. Allen,” Atsuko drew out in a voice almost lyrical when she came to their table. “You come to see us again.” Larry nudged Cam again. He was thoroughly enjoying Bob’s reaction. “Do you want coffee?” Atsuko asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Bob replied, almost choking on his tongue.

  Larry chuckled openly. “We do, too, ma’am, me and Cam here.” All three turned their cups over to be filled.

  “You want steak?” Atsuko asked Bob. “You always want steak.” He nodded, unable to organize his words to form a reasonable answer.

  “I’ll have the same,” Larry announced loudly. “How ’bout you, Cam?” When Cam nodded, Larry went on. “With whatever else goes with it.” She spread a smile around for the three of them, then headed for the kitchen.

  Once the woman was out of his presence, Bob found his tongue again. “That’s a mighty fine-lookin’ woman there, from China or someplace.”

  “Japan,” Larry corrected. “She’s Japanese.”

  “Don’t make no difference,” Bob said. “She’s a real looker, and her cookin’s hard to beat. You can’t ask for much more than that in a woman. Ain’t that right, Cam?”

  “Reckon not,” Cam replied, “maybe if she was rich to boot.”

  Bob chuckled and said, “You got that right. I wonder why she ain’t got no old man. I bet she ain’t much younger than me. Some feller oughta be lookin’ to throw a rope on her.”

  “That wouldn’t be you,” Larry teased. “She can’t be that desperate.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Bob replied with a mischievous grin. He reached up with a finger to smooth his mustache, then removed his hat and hung it on the back of his chair. Running his fingers through his thick gray-streaked hair, he commented, “She just needs to meet a distinguished-lookin’ gentleman like myself. Then she’d see what she’s been missing all her life.” He took a long sip from his coffee cup while Larry snorted a laugh. “Damn,” he exclaimed, making a face, “that coffee’s strong enough to float a horseshoe. Slide that sugar bowl over this way.” He dropped two heaping teaspoons of the sugar into his coffee and proceeded to stir it vigorously. “Maybe that’ll cut the bitter just a little.” He glanced at Cam then and asked, “Want some sugar in yours?”

  “No, thanks,” Cam replied. He had never become accustomed to using sugar in his coffee, primarily because sugar had always seemed to be in short supply when driving cattle or riding the range. Further conversation on the quality of the coffee was interrupted when Grace Bishop got out of her chair and walked over to their table.

  Tapping Cam on the shoulder, she said, “Mama would like to talk to you.”

  “Right now?” Cam asked.

  Grace shrugged. Her mother hadn’t specified when. She looked back at Mary as if hoping for an answer. “I don’t know,” she finally said.

  Cam smiled. “All right, I’ll go over and talk to your mama.” He picked up his cup and followed Grace back to her table.

  “Look out, Cam,” Larry whispered. “That woman mighta come out here lookin’ for a husband.”

  “Watch your mouth,” Bob scolded. “Young’uns her age has got ears like a coyote. Besides, that lady might like a man a mite older than Cam, anyway.” He smoothed his mustache again and smiled. “If she was lookin’ for a husband, she’da most likely called me over to her table.”

  “Did you need to talk to me?” Cam asked when he approached the table.

  “Yes, I do,” Mary responded. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your supper, though. I should have told Grace that I just meant sometime before you decided to leave.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Cam said, “just whenever you say. It’s no interruption. She ain’t even brought my supper yet.”

  Mary hesitated for a second, then suggested, “Why don’t you sit down here for a moment? What I have to say won’t take long.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He pulled the empty chair back and sat down facing her.

  “I haven’t heard you say where you’re going, or what you plan on doing,” she began. “But I’ve been thinking about a business proposition that I’d like to hear your opinion of. I’m gambling here on a gut feeling about you, a feeling that you’re an honest man. It’s not a good idea for a woman and two young girls to travel alone in the country I’m bound for.” She paused. “This terrible incident we just survived served to emphasize that fact. I’m determined to make my way to a little camp named Destiny. According to the map my husband sent me, it’s about six miles from Custer City. That’s why I want to talk to you. I have enough money to buy horses and supplies when we get to Custer City, and maybe enough left over to hire a guide to help me find Destiny. I’ve worried some over how I might find a man I could trust to guide me and help protect my family. I think you’re such a man. Please tell me I’m right.”

  Her proposal certainly took him by surprise, and he had to stop and think about it for a few moments. “Well, yes, ma’am, you can trust me, all right, but if you don’t mind me askin’, how come you’re travelin’ up here by yourself? Where’s your husband?”

  “I don’t know, Mr. Sutton. I received a telegram from him over three months ago, saying he was going to come home. He never did, and I haven’t heard from him since. I’m hoping to find him, because he would have let me know if there was a reason he changed his plans. I fear something terrible has happened, and I need someone to help me. Will you?”

  He hesitated while he tried to decide if he wanted to consider it or not. After a moment or two, he said, “To tell you the truth, I ain’t sure where I was headed, or what I was gonna do when I got there. I just figured I’d decide when I did get there.” He hesitated again, and turned to look back at Bob and Larry when Atsuko came from the kitchen with three plates of food. Unwilling to let his steak get cold, he quickly decided. “Well, like I said, I was just gonna do whatever landed in front of me, so I reckon goin’ to Destiny with you and these young ladies is what came up. I’ll do it.”

  “Excellent,” Mary said, greatly relieved. “Now go back and eat your supper before it gets cold. We’ll talk about your pay and anything else we need to after supper.” She smiled warmly and extended her hand to shake on the deal.

  Cam returned to his table and sat down to eat his supper, ignoring the pair of grinning faces b
eaming expectantly up at him, eager for a report. He took knife and fork in hand and sawed off a generous hunk of beef. “Pass me that shaker of salt,” he forced through the mouthful of tough steak.

  “Pass me the salt, hell!” Bob responded impatiently. “What the hell was that little social all about?”

  “Yeah,” Larry chimed in. “Me and Bob noticed that lady lookin’ you over a couple of times. She lookin’ for a daddy for them girls? She’d be a little too much for you, wouldn’t she? I mean, with a couple of young’uns already hatched.”

  “Yeah,” Bob agreed. “She’d do better lookin’ at a man like me.” He cocked his head and winked. “You know, she ain’t a bad-lookin’ woman. I wouldn’t kick her outta the covers, and that’s a fact.”

  Cam put his knife and fork down but continued chewing the tough bite of meat for a moment while his eyes shifted from one expectant face to the other, then back again. He rose halfway from his chair to reach across the table and grab the saltshaker. Seated again, he finally spoke. “I swear if you two don’t beat all I’ve ever seen. That lady ain’t lookin’ for nothin’ like that. She wants to hire me to guide her and her daughters to someplace outside Custer City, someplace she called Destiny. You ever hear of it?”

  Larry shook his head, and Bob replied, “Can’t say as I have. It couldn’t be a very big place. What does she wanna go there for?”

  “Lookin’ for her husband, I reckon—said we’d talk more about it tomorrow.”

  “You gonna do it?” Bob asked, no longer joking.

  “I reckon,” Cam answered with a shrug. “I ain’t really got nothin’ else to do.”

  “Well, I think it’s a damn good idea,” Bob said, completely serious now. “That nice lady and them two little girls ain’t got no business headin’ off into the hills without no protection at all.” He turned to look at Mary and her daughters when another thought entered his mind. When he turned back, he looked at Larry and asked, “Bishop, ain’t that the name of that feller that got shot in that holdup near Cheyenne Crossin’ a little while back?”

  “Mighta been,” Larry replied with a shrug while he gave it more thought. “Come to think of it, it was Bishop, same as hers. You reckon she’s kin?”

  Bob gave it another few moments’ thought, then decided. “Nah, I doubt it. There’s a heap of folks name of Bishop.”

  Mildly curious, Cam asked, “What happened at Cheyenne Crossin’?”

  “Like I said,” Bob replied, “a couple of fellers held up the stage a few miles north of the Crossin’. Johnny Peaks was drivin’ it. He said they wasn’t carryin’ anythin’ but passengers—wasn’t even drivin’ one of the big coaches. Johnny said one of ’em was carryin’ one of them big ol’ Sharps buffalo rifles. Anyway, they made ever’body get outta the coach, and they took whatever the passengers had on ’em. They didn’t get much and I reckon it riled the two bandits, because the one totin’ the Sharps turned it on one of the passengers, this feller named Bishop, and blew a hole through his chest big as your fist. Then they jumped on their horses and lit out. Johnny said there wasn’t no particular reason to shoot the feller. He didn’t say anythin’, just turned his pockets inside out like everybody else. I reckon they just didn’t like his looks.”

  “They never caught them two,” Larry commented.

  “That ain’t surprisin’,” Bob remarked. “They most times don’t.”

  Cam took another glance at Mary, wondering if there could possibly be any connection with the Cheyenne Crossing victim. Maybe I’ll find out after supper, he thought. Back to Bob then, he asked, “How long will it take you to get to Custer City?”

  “I ain’t sure,” he answered. “I aim to get outta here early in the mornin’. And if there ain’t no trouble at any of the changeovers, we might be able to make it to Custer City late tomorrow night.”

  Cam nodded thoughtfully. As best he could estimate, Custer City was probably around ninety miles, give or take, and it would take him two days, maybe more, to cover that distance on Toby. That would have to be discussed at his meeting with Mary Bishop.

  • • •

  “Well, Mr. Sutton,” Mary said as she led him into the hotel parlor, “are you still planning on guiding me to Destiny?”

  “Why, yes, ma’am,” Cam replied. “We shook on it.” He was a little uncomfortable for having been addressed as Mister. “Please, ma’am, just call me Cam.”

  “All right, Cam,” she said, her tone businesslike but friendly. She then proceeded to tell him that her husband and his brother had gone into the Black Hills in search of gold. “He was going to stay for one year only, and then return whether or not they had been successful. As I’ve already told you, three months ago, he sent a telegram from Custer City, telling me that they had had some luck, and he was coming home the following week.” Her eyelids blinked nervously at this point, but she maintained her demeanor. “That telegram was the last contact I’ve had with my husband. He never came home. I’ve sent several telegrams to him at Custer City, but they were never answered. And looking at the map he sent me, I would have to assume the telegraph office had no way to know him or where to find him.”

  Cam swallowed hard, knowing that the man killed in the holdup at Cheyenne Crossing had to have been her husband. It was too close to be a coincidence involving similar names. He hesitated a few moments, trying to decide how best to tell her what Bob had told him. In the end, he felt it would be wrong not to tell her. “Mrs. Bishop—” he started.

  “Mary,” she interrupted.

  “Mary,” he corrected. “I don’t like bein’ the one to tell you this, but I think it’s somethin’ you oughta know.” He proceeded to tell her about the fatal holdup. Her expression was one of profound shock, but she managed to hold on to her emotions. He could guess the total despair his news had wrought, and he tried to give her some hope. “That mighta been some other man named Bishop. The stage company oughta be able to tell you the man’s name. If you want, I’ll go with you to the telegraph office here and see if they can wire Custer City and find out.” He paused, seeing she was trying to collect her nerves. “Or I can go find out for you,” he suggested.

  “No,” she said softly, “I can do that myself.” Feeling suddenly faint, she fought to maintain her composure. She had tried to steel herself to the possibility of finding out such news, for deep down she had known that something this tragic had to have happened. But to actually hear it was devastating. In a moment, she felt she was in control again. She pulled herself upright and announced, “I’ll go do that now. I’ll let you know what I find out when I get back.” She got up to go. “Where can I find you? Do you have a room in the hotel?”

  “No, ma’am. I’ll be sleepin’ in the stagecoach tonight, so I’ll be there.” He walked out the door behind her and stood watching her from the porch as she made her way across the clearing toward the telegraph office. Well, I didn’t hold that job for very long, he thought, certain that the murdered man had to have been her husband.

  • • •

  It was a couple of hours before she returned. Walking out to the corral where the stage was parked, she found him already in his blanket, asleep in the coach. She called out his name softly and he immediately responded. “Were you asleep?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. I just naturally wake up easy.” He stepped out of the coach and stood up. “I had a little fire goin’, but it went out.” Actually, he was surprised to see her again. He assumed that if she verified her husband’s death, she’d cancel her trip to Destiny and go back home, wherever that might be. Had he not thought so, he would not have turned in for the night. “Did you find out about your husband?” he asked.

  “Yes, I did,” she replied. “The man murdered by that outlaw was my husband, William Warren Bishop. He still had the watch I gave him on our fifth anniversary. The bandits didn’t even take it.”

  “Well, I am right sorry, ma’am.
I hated to be the one to tell you about it, but I figured you’d surely want to know, instead of goin’ all the way to Custer City to find out. I expect you’ll be stayin’ over here and wait for a coach headin’ back to Cheyenne.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m still going to find Destiny. My poor husband’s brother should know that Warren never got back. If I don’t find him, he may never know that his brother was killed.”

  He was surprised, but when he thought about it, he could see that it was the right thing to do. “So you still want me to go up there with you?”

  “Yes, I do. I’ve never had to hire a guide before, so maybe you have a figure in mind. How much do you think it’s worth for your help?”

  “I’ve never done it before, either,” he replied, and gave it a few moments’ thought. “I don’t know. Is ten dollars too much?”

  She couldn’t help chuckling. “No, that’s not too much. It’s worth more than that. I was thinking more along the lines of fifty dollars.” When he hesitated, she said, “You know you’re going to have to travel with two precocious little girls. Fifty might not be a fair amount.”

  He shook his head and grinned. “Why don’t we settle on forty?” he said.

  “Agreed,” she said at once; then she remarked, “You’d make a mighty poor businessman.” They shook on it again. “Now, we’ll take the stage to Custer City in the morning, and when we get there, I’d like your help in buying horses and supplies.”

  “I won’t be goin’ with you in the mornin’,” he replied. When her eyebrows went up in surprise, he explained. “I can’t just tie my horse onto the back of the stage and go with you. That would wear my horse plumb out. It’s gonna take me at least two days to get up there and maybe a shade more. I can make pretty good time on that buckskin of mine, but I expect you’ll get to Custer City at least a day ahead of me and Toby, even if you stop over for one night.”

  “I’m sorry. I forgot that they change to fresh horses every ten or twelve miles.” She made an impatient face, then thought about it a moment. “Of course you can’t leave your horse behind. Well, I guess there’s no longer a need to hurry. I plan to take a room in a hotel, if they have one.”