Buckskin

by Robert Knott

  The saloon was always busy these days, from the time the doors opened until they closed. People were changing, too. Folks were becoming more refined. They seemed happier, too, in general. No doubt because there were plenty of jobs to be had and there was more money. People were living better lives. The population of Appaloosa was now nearing four thousand, and it seemed that everywhere you went you would most likely have to wait on one thing or the other. When Wallis finally did make it over to me, he had sweat dripping off his nose, but he smiled wide.

  “Well, take a look at you.”

  “What?”

  “What? What do you mean ‘what’? Don’t think I have ever seen you looking so fine and dandy, Everett. I mean, you have always been a sharp dresser, but you have outdone yourself. Damn dandy. What’s the special occasion?”

  “I’m going to the theater.”

  “The theater?”

  “Yep.”

  Wallis shook his head as he collected a mug.

  “As I live and breathe.”

  He chuckled as he poured me a beer.

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think there might be a woman that is seriously involved with this theater business.”

  “I’ll take a shot of whiskey with that.”

  Wallis set the foaming beer in front of me, then placed a glass next to it and poured.

  “I’m dying of thirst over here,” somebody called out from the opposite end of the bar.

  “Hold your horses,” Wallis said over his shoulder, then leaned in toward me. “What’s her name?”

  “None of your business,” I said.

  “Well, hell, Everett,” he said. “How can I ever be of consoling service if I don’t know her name?”

  “Martha Kathryn,” I said. “And I just met her.”

  “Ohh. I like the sound of that.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Everett,” Virgil said.

  Wallis eyed Virgil behind me. Allie was in front of him as they moved past a few customers standing near the bar. I got out of my seat and reached for Allie’s hand.

  “Here, Allie. Sit.”

  “Why, thank you, Everett,” she said as she stepped up onto the stool, eyeing my attire.

  “Brandy, Allie?” Wallis said.

  “Why, yes, Wallis, thank you.”

  Virgil nodded to my beer and whiskey.

  “Same as Everett there.”

  Allie leaned her head left, then right, looking me up and down.

  “My, oh, my.”

  “You told me to dress up.”

  “And you look so handsome, Everett. Don’t you think, Virgil?”

  “Well, hell, Allie. He did what you asked him to do.”

  “I did.”

  “I’ve tried to get Virgil to step out of the black and he just won’t do it.”

  “I’m clean, my suit is clean, and my hat is clean,” Virgil said as Wallis handed him a mug of beer.

  “Look here,” I said.

  Virgil followed my look to see a tall and skinny man with long hair and a beard. He was looking in our direction.

  The bearded man held up his beer to us and nodded.

  “That’d be none other than Victor Bartholomew,” I said.

  “None other,” Virgil said.

  He stood with two other men. He stared at us over the top of a beer mug as he took a swig.

  “Know those other two?” I said.

  “They was with him before, weren’t they?” Virgil said.

  “Yep, the Mexican I remember. He’s Johnny Rodriguez,” I said. “The other, the big one, not sure, but I think he’s Ward . . . Ward something?”

  “Sounds right,” Virgil said.

  Victor lowered the mug and smiled wide, like we were all old friends.

  “Here they come,” I said.

  “Allie, do me a favor.”

  “Yes, Virgil.”

  “Just take a little fresh air out the side door there so Everett and me can talk to these fellas.”

  Allie regarded the men we were talking about, then turned to Virgil.

  “Be a good idea,” Virgil said to Allie.

  She raised her hand and I helped her off the stool. She moved off through the folks crowded around the bar and walked toward the door. Victor came striding over and the two men with him followed.

  “Virgil,” he said with a nod.

  Then his eyes drifted to where Allie walked. She turned back, and Victor tipped his hat. Then he smiled at me like he was my friend.

  “Everett,” he said.

  He tipped his head toward his men.

  “You boys remember Johnny and Wayne, don’t you?”

  “Not much to remember,” I said.

  Virgil did not acknowledge them.

  “We meet again,” Johnny said with a smile and showing the missing tooth under his bushy mustache.

  Wayne, not Ward, said nothing. He just glared.

  “We heard you fellas was here,” Victor said.

  “What do you need, Victor?” I said.

  “Just saying howdy,” he said.

  “Why do we know that is not the case?” I said.

  “Don’t know what you mean, Everett,” he said. “Good to see you, too.”

  Then he opened his jacket with the handle of his bullwhip to show us he was without a gun.

  “Not heeled,” he said.

  Virgil didn’t say anything.

  Victor grinned an arrogant grin.

  “Just following your law.”

  “Keep it that way, Victor,” Virgil said.

  “That’s a fine how-do-you-do.”

  “Fine as it will get,” Virgil said.

  “You, too, Everett,” Victor said. “You feel the same way?”

  “What do you want to tell us about the McCormick miner?” Virgil said.

  “Got no idea what you are talking about,” Victor said.

  “Not a good idea to lie to me,” Virgil said.

  “Just being friendly.”

  “No, you’re not,” Virgil said.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “We’re not friends,” Virgil said.

  “Sorry you feel that way.”

  “Your brother with you?”

  He turned and turned again as if he was searching.

  “Nope,” he said. “Not that I can see.”

  “He here in Appaloosa?” Virgil said.

  “No.”

  A silence swelled and filled up a strange uneasiness as Victor stared at Virgil.

  “You’re the one who locked me up, Cole.”

  Virgil nodded.

  “I did.”

  “Not the other way around, Virgil.”

  “Nope.”

  “I’m the one that should have the grudge.”

  Virgil didn’t say anything.

  “I’m the one with the debt to settle, Virgil.”

  “Bad idea to threaten me.”

  “Just stating the facts.”

  “The fact is, you only got a portion of what you deserved,” Virgil said. “That is the fact.”

  Victor stared at him, unblinking.

  “I’m here on business and—”

  “I know goddamn good and well why you are here.”

  “Good, then you know I mean business.”

  “Get on before I get pissed off and drag you outta here and down the road to jail with that whip wrapped around your neck.”

  “No reason for that kind of talk,” Wayne said.

  “Do like I tell ya,” Virgil said.

  Wayne moved forward.

  “You don’t scare me none,” Wayne said.

 
Victor pulled Wayne back.

  “No reason for any misunderstanding,” Victor said.

  He smiled, staring at Virgil. Then he made a point to look off toward Allie. He smiled at her and tipped his hat. He turned and walked away.

  8

  The kid left the farm after the sunset. It was a beautiful end to an eventful day, with purple and gold and orange spread out before him as he rode. His pony was well fed and rested and even had a little extra spirit to his step. When it turned evening, the moon was near full and the road was easy to follow. And it wasn’t too long before he came to the town that the husband and wife had told him about.

  It was a small place but bigger than a village, and it had a good peaceful feeling to it. He passed a few houses before he came into the light of the town. It was early enough that folks were still awake. He could see a few people behind their windows doing one thing or another. He was glad to see people were still out and about. A blacksmith was even working the evening hours; the sound he’d heard from almost a mile away. The kid figured it was better than working the hot iron in the heat of the summer day.

  He could hear music, too, a piano and fiddle, and that lifted his spirits. Not that his spirits were not already high. But he enjoyed people having fun more than almost anything else. He followed the sound and arrived at a saloon on the far end of town. It was a two-story building, and his first thought was women. Maybe there were workingwomen here.

  He tied up his pony and entered, and to his delight it was the type of place that suited him. It was full of life. In the corner under the stairs there was an old fella playing the piano. Next to him was an even older man sawing on a fiddle. And there were women. One was up dancing; another two were sitting with some fellas about his age. And before he could get to the bar another woman, one he’d not seen, mainly because she was so small, tugged on his sleeve.

  “Hey there, handsome,” she said.

  “Hello, cutie pie.”

  “You think I’m cute?”

  “I don’t think, I know.”

  She laughed.

  “Well, I like you!” she said.

  And she did have something. Beautiful, he thought, might be an exaggeration. But she was fetching and there was something about her that made him excited. Made him feel randy.

  She was little and skinny, and her body barely touched the insides of her dress. Her hair was blond and stringy and thin. She had freckles across her cheeks and nose, but her brown eyes were as big and round as half-dollars.

  “Those are some eyes you got there.”

  She blinked them.

  “Buy me a drink?”

  “Damn straight.”

  She hooked her arm in his and they sauntered to the bar like they were old friends. After he got a bottle and two glasses, he wasted no time in letting her know he had some money. He told her he would be more than happy to spend it on her upstairs.

  “Doing what?” she said with a coy laugh.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Bet we can think of something.”

  She gazed into his eyes and smiled.

  “I think I like you,” she said, leaning in close to him.

  Then she reached down between his legs and smiled.

  “No, I don’t think, I know I like you.”

  She grabbed his hand. Then turned to one of the other women, an older, heavyset gal with large breasts and a painted face.

  “Georgina, I’m going up.”

  Georgina gave the kid a once-over, then nodded her approval and he followed the little blonde up the stairs.

  “What’s your name?”

  “What’s yours?”

  “Becky.”

  “Pretty name.”

  “Thank you. And you? What yours.”

  “I don’t have one.”

  She opened the door to the room.

  “Silly, everybody has a name.”

  “Everybody but me.”

  They entered the room and she closed the door behind them.

  “So what am I supposed to call you?”

  “You don’t have to call me anything.”

  “But what if I want to get your attention?”

  “You already got my attention.”

  He leaned on her and moved her back to the closed door and kissed her. She returned his kiss then batted her big brown eyes. She touched his cut lip and cheek.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Not really.”

  She kissed him gently.

  “What happened?”

  “That’s funny,” he said.

  She kissed him again, gently, on different parts of his lips.

  “What’s funny?”

  “My mother asked me the same thing.”

  She kissed him again and again.

  “What did you tell her?”

  9

  Allie had been in the Appaloosa Theater in the past, but Virgil and I had not stepped foot into the place before this evening’s production. The play was Evangeline. A life-size illustrated image of Martha Kathryn in the center of the lobby placard made it obvious. She was portraying the central character, Evangeline.

  “Oh, my, will you look at that,” Allie said. “Isn’t she something? So beautiful.”

  I nodded.

  “She is at that.”

  Atop the placard, it exclaimed The World’s Popular, Fascinating, Musical Extravaganza, based on the poem Evangeline by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

  “Longfellow,” Virgil said.

  “Yep,” I said.

  “This is so exciting,” Allie said.

  “Not sure how a poem gets swiveled into a musical extravaganza,” Virgil said.

  “Looks like we’re fixing to find out,” I said.

  The theater was like every other place in Appaloosa, crowded. But it was an impressive place, no doubt: grand as some of the theaters I’d seen in my early days in New York City. Ornate carvings outlined the wide proscenium stage painted in gold and silver. A fat cherub blowing wind into the sail of a ship marked the centerpiece above the stage. The theater had red-velvet seats in wide rows for at least five hundred people. A balcony covered half the seats, and private boxes lined each side. And there was an orchestra pit, where a band was tuning their instruments. Vandervoort had built the theater and had a few successful shows. But after his demise, the playhouse had no real ownership or guidance, until the Appaloosa City Council took over management.

  When we settled in and the orchestra music started, Allie squeezed Virgil’s hand and mine as if she was holding on for dear life. And when Martha Kathryn stepped out on stage Allie clapped so hard I thought she might hurt herself.

  Martha Kathryn was stunning as well as captivating in every way. She was elegant and commanding, and it was hard to take your eyes off her. She danced and sang and laughed and made everyone in the audience laugh.

  The show was entertaining and comical. And actually turned out to be one hell of an extravaganza for certain, with lots of ladies dancing and singing and a plot that somehow traveled from Arizona to Africa.

  After the show we waited in the lobby along with a crowd of admirers wanting to get cast members’ autographs. Martha Kathryn emerged with some of the other actors, and it was clear to see that it was Martha Kathryn who the crowd was waiting for. She got swarmed. We stood back and waited for her to thank each one. Finally she had to let them know that she had plans and bid them good night. When she came to us, Allie hugged her tight.

  “That was one of the most incredible experiences, I have to say,” Allie said.

  “Well, good, I’m so glad you enjoyed it,” she said. “Now, I could use a sip of some wine or a shot of bourbon.”

  Virgil glanced at me.

  “Sounds right,” I said.

  “Does,” Virgil said.

  “To th
e hotel?” she said.

  “Indeed,” Allie said.

  Martha Kathryn took my arm and we walked, following Virgil and Allie toward the Hotel Windsor.

  “What’d you think, Mr. Hitch?”

  “Think you’re damn good.”

  “About the show.”

  “I enjoyed it, didn’t completely understand the plot, but I enjoyed it.”

  She laughed.

  “Yes, it is a rather nonsensical show.”

  “But I enjoyed it, enjoyed you.”

  “I have my moments.”

  “You have much more than moments.”

  “It’s all part of the act.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  I figured I had no reason not to get right into the middle of what I really felt about this woman, and there was a web being spun between us.

  She smiled.

  “Why, Mr. Hitch.”

  “I could go through the list, but then I would be meandering through the obvious.”

  “That right?”

  “Best not try to explain the unexplainable.”

  “No reason to define it.”

  “No reason I can think of.”

  “What you see is not always what you get.”

  “Even better.”

  She smiled. I felt like leaning in and kissing her right there. I was pretty sure she felt the same, but I figured I’d let us both think about it.

  Martha Kathryn and the main members of the cast were staying at the Hotel Windsor. When we arrived, we settled on the back porch for a drink.

  A few people stopped by the table to let her know they had seen the show and how much they liked it. After they cleared, Allie held up her glass.

  “To Martha Kathryn.”

  “Why, thank you,” Martha Kathryn said, “but this toast is to you, to my new friends in Appaloosa, and thank you for coming.”

  “Well, my gosh, like I said, that was the most exciting thing I think I have ever seen, just incredible. And I am so over the blessed moon to say just how pleased I am that you will be helping out by performing for us at Appaloosa Days. Do you think you will do something from the show? That would be marvelous if you did, but of course whatever you decide, I’m certain it will be amazing.”