Xenia’s Renegade

by Agnes Alexander

  Franklin narrowed his eyes. He’d never liked anyone shortening his name. Especially not this good-for-nothing man who happened to be his wife’s brother.

  Seymour shrugged, poured himself a drink, and swallowed it in one gulp.

  Franklin shook his head. The idiot didn’t even know how to sip bourbon. It was a drink to be savored and enjoyed. Not gulped down like a shot of rotgut whiskey. “I ask again. Where are my daughters?”

  Seymour sat his glass down and leaned back in the chair. He gave Franklin a sleazy smile. “Did my lovely sister make this trip with you?”

  “What difference does that make?”

  “I just thought I’d like to invite her to come in and have a drink with her long lost brother. I haven’t seen her in some time, and I figured she might like to visit with me.”

  “You fool. Do you think I’d bring Mrs. Poindexter into an establishment like this?”

  “Why not? Her pa died because he couldn’t stay away from establishments like this. Then he dumped her and me on our grandmother, who just happened to be a grand lady in her time. I figured remembering the good old times might be fun for my dear sister. It might make her more receptive to inviting me to come back to visit you folks in Virginia.”

  “Seymour Longstreet, neither my wife nor I will ever invite you into our home for a visit. The last time you came was a disaster. We will never let anything like that happen again.”

  Seymour threw back his head and laughed. “So you didn’t think it was funny when your friend’s daughter came crying to you saying I’d promised to marry her and bring her west to live with me?”

  “Of course it wasn’t funny. The poor girl ended up…What difference does it make? You’re not interested in what became of her.”

  “Of course, I’m interested. I figure she married some fancy pants do-gooder and is having fun showing off her children to her friends.”

  “You couldn’t be more wrong. Her parents sent her to Georgia to visit an ailing aunt for almost a year. We all knew that was a ruse. She had a baby in Georgia and brought it home, saying it belonged to a widow friend of her aunt who died giving birth. Since there was no one to raise the child, she felt compelled to bring it back to Virginia with her. Naturally, everyone knew the child was hers. Eventually, her family moved away because they were no longer accepted in society.”

  “How about that? I have a baby. Well, it’s not a baby now. It would be more than ten, wouldn’t it?”

  “How can you be so crass? You ruined that poor girl’s life. Your sister was devastated that you would do such a thing.”

  Seymour’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sure she didn’t want me to stay around, because everyone would know our society grandma died without leaving us any inheritance. Besides, the girl had as good a time as I did making that baby. If she didn’t want to suffer the consequences, she should have said no to me.”

  “You’re insufferable, but it’s too late to expect you to change your ways now.” Franklin took a deep breath. “What about my daughters? I want to collect them and get away from this terrible town. I don’t know what ever possessed them to come here in the first place.”

  “Now, Franklin, don’t say that. You know they wanted to help their dear uncle Seymour.”

  Before Franklin could say anything, two cowboys came in singing what sounded somewhat like Bound for the Promised Land. Though he didn’t know all the words himself, Franklin was sure they were mangling the lyrics.

  Seymour jumped up and pushed his chair back. It fell to the floor with a thud. “What the hell are you two doing in here? Can’t you read?”

  “Nope,” the older cowboy said through his toothless grin.

  “Well, it says No Injuns Allowed, so get your worthless hides out of my place.”

  “Why you want us to do that? Our money is good.”

  “I don’t need your money. Now, get out. I ain’t gonna tell you again.”

  “Shoot him, Joe.”

  “No. I don’t want to go to jail. I hate jails. You shoot him.”

  “I don’t like jails, neither.”

  “Will you idiots stop your yammering and get out of here?” Seymour yelled.

  “Come on, Joe. Let’s go spend our bag of gold somewhere else.” The older Indian turned toward the door and pulled the younger one with him.

  In an instant, Seymour’s sour expression changed to one of interest. “Well, I guess I could make an exception about serving Injuns in this one instance. What do you fellows want to drink?”

  “Woohoo. I want whiskey. What you want, Joe?”

  Joe nodded. “Whiskey’s fine fer me.”

  Seymour looked across the room to where Sassy Sue was sitting at a table alone shuffling a deck of cards. “Sassy, go get these men a drink, then seat them and give them a deck of cards. They probably want to play a game or two.”

  “We don’t play cards,” the older Indian said.

  “But I might be willing to pay for somethin’ for one of them purty women you have here. Is there a rule about Indians spending time with a purty woman?” Joe said.

  The older man started his own rendition of Sweet Betsy From Pike.

  “Shut up,” Seymour demanded.

  Sassy Sue walked up with two glasses of whiskey. “Here you go, fellows. Now, follow me over here to a table and we’ll talk about cards. You might become interested.

  “Nope. Don’t play cards.”

  “It ain’t gonna hurt to talk to her, Pally.”

  Pally downed his whiskey and nodded. “We’ll do it if’en you’ll bring us a whole bottle.”

  “She’ll be happy to.” Seymour nodded toward Sassy.

  Franklin couldn’t believe his eyes as she went back to the bar, then to the table where the two men had pulled out chairs. She gave them a big grin, hiked her already short dress up over her knees, and sat so they could look at her bared skin.

  Seymour returned and took the chair across from Franklin. He chuckled. “She’ll have that sack of gold tucked in her dress before the night is over. That woman knows how to get what she wants from a man. And rest assured, Sassy Sue likes money better than anything else.”

  The bat doors swung back again and several cowboys ambled to the bar. One tapped his money and yelled, “Hey, barkeeper, where are you? We’re thirsty.”

  Seymour flung his chair back again. “Where the hell is Hiram? If he don’t get here soon, I’m firing his ass.”

  Sassy Sue stood. “Want me to serve them?”

  “Yeah. Somebody has got to.”

  Though Franklin was somewhat uncomfortable in the saloon, he was also intrigued by the events happening around him, and momentarily forgot why he’d come inside in the first place. He picked up the bottle of bourbon on the table and poured himself another drink, sat back, sipped it and watched the events taking place.

  Shortly, two new girls, dressed much like Sassy Sue, came down the steps and were immediately grabbed by a couple of cowboys. A skinny man in a silk-striped shirt came in and began pounding on the piano. Seymour walked up to one of the new girls, the blonde, and whispered in her ear. In a minute, she pulled away from the cowboy and slipped behind the bar.

  “Alright, boys,” she said in a high pitched voice. “I’m going to be your bartender until Hiram gets here. Now, what can Angela get you to drink?”

  The men crowded around the bar and began shouting out orders. In a matter of minutes, two men with long beards started having words about who Angela was supposed to serve first. Seconds later, they were exchanging punches. Laughter followed, and a few more men entered the fray. Soon, the place was full of drunk men of all ages and all sizes.

  A lone man came in who looked like he might be from the east. Franklin perked up. Maybe this was someone who could tell him what was going on.

  “Hey, Bullins. Glad to see you,” Seymour shouted. “Get behind the bar and help Angela.”

  “I can’t, Seymour. I’m leaving town.”

  “The hell you are. I said get b
ehind the bar.”

  “But I wanted to tell you I failed to get one of your nieces and they...”

  “What?” Franklin sat up. “Where is she?’

  “She’s with—”

  “Shut up, Bullins. This is her father.”

  Bullins got quiet and moved behind the bar without another word.

  “Seymour, I demand you tell me this very minute where my daughters are.”

  “Have another drink and sit down, Frank. I’ll tell you later. I don’t have the time right now. Besides, I’m trying to decide how much the information is going to cost you.”

  Before Franklin could answer, Seymour crossed the crowded room to settle an argument.

  No one seemed to be leaving, but there was a steady stream of men entering the saloon. By the time Franklin drank half his bottle of bourbon, four different men sat down to join him, but didn’t stay long. Franklin almost emptied the bottle and wondered why he was enjoying watching the show around him. These were the most uncouth people he’d ever been around. Maybe that was it. He’s never seen anything like this. How could Seymour stand to be in this environment nightly?

  Then the thought that brought him here hit him. Where were his daughters?

  He motioned for Seymour to join him, but the man shook his head. Instead he motioned for Sassy Sue to see what he wanted.

  “I need to ask Seymour where my daughters are,” he told her when she came to his table.

  “I’m sure he’ll tell you as soon as he gets a chance. You can see how busy it is and our bartender ain’t showed up yet.”

  “But I need to find out so I can go get them and take them home to Virginia.”

  “Virginia, huh? I know some people in Virginia.” She hiked up her dress and sat in the chair closest to him. “Have another drink and we’ll talk about it.”

  “Well, I—”

  “Ah, mister. Don’t say no to a girl who wants to hear about her relatives back east.”

  He eyed the top of her dress after she tugged it lower. “Well, I guess I could wait for Seymour for a little longer. He can tell me where my daughters are then.”

  She reached over and patted his arm. “Thank you…uh…I don’t think I heard your name.”

  “It’s Franklin. Franklin P. Poindexter.”

  “Well now, Frankie P. Poindexter, tell me about your home in Virginia.”

  Franklin let out a sound that resembled a giggle. It was the first time in his life a beautiful woman had called him a pet name. He actually liked it. He grinned at her. “Would you like a drink while we talk?”

  “Sure.”

  “We need another bottle. This one’s almost empty.”

  “You’ve got enough for now.”

  He nodded and poured her a drink in the glass Seymour had left on the table then filled his glass again. “Virginia is a beautiful place. Not arid and dusty like this town.” He took a drink. “Why don’t you come for a visit?”

  “Maybe I will sometime.”

  Franklin, lifted his glass, toasted her, then frowned. “I’m not sure Clare would want you to come.”

  “Then I won’t show up.”

  He nodded. “Good. Can’t let her get too upset. She’s waiting at the hotel for me to find out where Mea Ann and Xenia are.” He looked at her through bleary eyes and drank his bourbon down without stopping. “Do you know where they are?”

  “No, honey. I don’t know where they are.”

  He didn’t know how much time had passed when a cowboy fell down beside him when somebody knocked him in their direction. “Oh, my,” he said, and tried to say something else. Then, a bottle flew by his head and crashed against the wall and the entire bar erupted into a brawl. There was the sound of gunshots and someone shouted, “Damn, you killed the barkeep.”

  It didn’t register with Franklin. He’d passed out as his head fell to the table with a loud bang.

  Sassy Sue laughed, got up and started to where the Indians sat, but she was too late. They’d already left, taking their sack of gold with them.

  ****

  “What about this one?” Xenia held up the dress she pulled from the wardrobe where Mea Ann had stored the three dresses she brought from Virginia.

  “Not that one. I don’t like the way it fits me.”

  Xenia frowned. She wanted to ask her sister why she brought it along if she didn’t like the way it fit, but she didn’t. She shoved it back in the wardrobe and pulled out a pink one with a darker pink design running through the skirt. “If you say no to this one, you’ll have to get married in your chemise.”

  Mea Ann laughed. “Oh, Xenia. You’ve always had the ability to make me laugh, no matter what.”

  Xenia laughed, too. “I didn’t mean to be so short with you, but that preacher may show up at any time, and we need to be ready.”

  “I understand that. The pink one will be fine. I don’t think Wilt has seen it, and I want to surprise him.”

  Xenia nodded and pulled the dress from the wardrobe. “I’m sure he’ll marry you no matter what dress you wear, but the pink one does look good with your blonde hair. Now, let’s get you in it.”

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Who is it?” Xenia asked.

  “It’s Chapa.”

  “Come on in. I’m just getting her into her dress.” Xenia slipped the dress over Mea Ann’s shoulders and turned her so she could button the back.

  “Oh, my. That’s mighty pretty. Wilt will think you look like a princess.”

  Mea Ann giggled. “I hope so. I bet he looks handsome, too.”

  “I’ve not seen him, yet, but I’m sure he’ll look fine. I pressed his black suit and told Ty to get him in it.” She smiled. “Now, is there anything I can do to help you get ready?”

  “I don’t think so. Is there anything you need help with, Xenia?”

  “Not that I know of. Once I get her buttoned, I’ll work on her hair and then she’ll be ready.”

  Chapa nodded. “Would you like some flowers to carry? I know that’s a custom.”

  “Oh, Chapa. How sweet of you to think of that. I’d love to have flowers.”

  “I’ll be back with them in a few minutes.”

  When Chapa left the room, Mea Ann said, “Wasn’t that sweet of her?”

  “Very sweet. Chapa is a special woman. I’m so glad we’ve gotten to know her.”

  “Me, too.” Mea Ann took a seat on the stool in front of the mirror above the bureau.

  Xenia picked up the hairbrush and began to work on Mea Ann’s hair.

  ****

  “Damn it, Wilt, this is the second time you’ve buttoned that shirt wrong. What’s the matter with you?”

  “Lay off, Ty.”

  “I will, just as soon as you calm down and get yourself dressed. How hard could it be to get into these clothes?”

  “It’s harder than you think when you’re nervous. And I admit, I am. A man doesn’t get married every day.”

  “Thank the Good Lord for that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re the one about to make this mistake, not me.”

  “So you think my marrying Mea Ann is a mistake?”

  “Of course I do. You know how I feel about men like us marrying white women.”

  “Ty, sometimes I think you forget you’re more white than Indian.”

  Ty clinched his jaw. He didn’t like being reminded that he was only a fourth Sioux. He changed the subject. “Drop it, and get those damn clothes on.”

  “Are you going to change into your suit?”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because I want you to stand with me while I marry the woman I love.”

  “I can stand beside you in my denims.”

  Wilt gave him a hard look. “Then put it on because Aunt Chapa pressed it and she’ll have your ass if you don’t wear it.”

  Ty knew Wilt was right. His aunt would let him know if he’d displeased her. “Alright, I’ll get into the damn suit. I don’t want Aunt Chapa
upset.”

  “I didn’t think you’d want that.” Wilt tucked the shirt into his pants. It was finally buttoned correctly.

  Chapter 18

  Sassy Sue knew things were going to get out of hand in the saloon—and soon. She figured Franklin would be safe if she shoved him to the floor and rolled him against the wall. Once he was in place, she crawled through a forest of legs, dodging spurs and boots. When she managed to get behind the bar, she grabbed Angela’s skirt. “Get down. You’re going to get hit.”

  Angela dropped beside her. “What about Lana?”

  “I’ll see if I can get her attention.” Sassy Sue raised up and yelled in Lana’s direction, “Get over here, Lana. Behind the bar.”

  Lana headed in her direction, but before she got there, a cowboy grabbed her and headed out of the saloon with her over his shoulder.

  “Damn.” Sassy dropped back to safety.

  “What happened?”

  “A drunk carried her out, and there’s nothing we can do to help her now. She’s on her own.”

  Angela nodded to the man crouched on the floor at the other end of the bar. “Why did Seymour have the peddler help me serve drinks? I was doing alright.”

  “He’s the one who’s been trying to bring Seymour’s nieces in.”

  A bottle crashed against the mirror over their head. “Do you think we can get out of here in one piece?”

  “I think we should try. I’ll see if it’s safe enough.” Sassy peered around the end of the bar. Chaos greeted her eyes. She saw Seymour behind a table with his gun drawn and wondered what he was up to. He usually hurried upstairs as soon as a fight broke out. This time, it was as if he was waiting for something.

  He raised his gun, and she followed his sight line. He was aiming at the peddler who had started crawling toward the door. The gun went off and Lou Bullins paused, then rolled to his side and collapsed. Sassy knew he was dead. The only thing she couldn’t understand was why Seymour wanted to kill the man.

  “Can we make it out of here, Sassy?”

  Sassy swallowed. “I’ll keep watching, and let you know when we can.”

  Another shot went off and a man with a bushy beard fell to the floor. Seymour managed to work his way toward the stairs and Sassy knew he was leaving. Before she could tell Angela it was time to go, the bar began to rock. Her heart thumped. If the bar fell, they’d be out in the open. They could then either be captured by one of the rough miners or drovers, or be killed by a stray bullet. They had to go.