“She’s a fine shot. I never saw a better,” Con said.
They finally arrived at a place that had some privacy, located between the corrals where the buffalo and the horses were penned up. Leaning on the fence, Laurie began talking about the horses, pointing out this one and that one. She spoke rather rapidly, for she had an idea of why Con wanted to go for a walk, and finally her fears were realized. “I told you, Laurie, I’d come back,” he said. He turned to face her and there was an eager gleam in his eyes. “I don’t want to push you, but I’m getting on in years.”
“How old are you, Con?” she grinned.
“Well, actually, I’m twenty-eight, but, I mean, look at it this way, Laurie. A lot of fellows, at my age, have found their place. They’ve got steady jobs, a home, marriage, a family. I’ve been roaming around since I was sixteen years old, and I’m telling you, it’s getting a little tiresome.”
“I’m tired myself,” admitted Laurie.
Instantly, he said, “Sure you are. You weren’t made for this kind of life. Like you said, it’s been fun, something to remember, but it’s time to make a change.”
Laurie said nervously, “Well, I’m only twenty so I guess there’s no real rush.”
Con shut his mouth abruptly, and a hint of the temper that he had confessed to appeared in his eyes. They grew narrow and his lips tightened into a white line. “I was right, wasn’t I? About you and Jim Logan.”
“No. You’re wrong,” Laurie said quickly. “He’s just a friend, that’s all. Just like you’re a friend.” She saw, however, that her explanation did not satisfy Groner. He stood there, teetering back and forth. She knew that he longed to express what was in his mind physically. It was what he did best. Whenever he went into action, it was with everything he had, whether it was riding in a horse race or striking the tents; everything he did was with all of his strength. She had never seen him resting, not ever.
Groner bit his lips and shook his head. “I love you, Laurie, and that’s all I can say. Maybe you don’t love me so much right now, but I can make you happy. There ain’t nothin’ I wouldn’t do for you. If you want a ranch, we’ll get one. If you want to go east, we’ll go east. I’ve been everywhere, so it don’t matter much to me—as long as I can have a woman like you.”
“I’m sorry, Con.” Laurie bit the words off nervously. “It’s the greatest honor that anyone has ever done me, to ask me to marry them. Every woman appreciates that. But I couldn’t make you happy.”
“Why couldn’t you?” asked Con, trying to control the strain in his voice.
“Because you deserve a woman who will love you just for yourself, and I just haven’t fallen in love with you.”
“I don’t know about all that, Laurie. All the pretty notions about falling in love is pretty much in books.”
“Then why could you say you love me?” she countered instantly. And seeing that he was off guard, said, “I can’t talk about it anymore, Con. I’m sorry, but I’m telling you that you need to look for another girl. I may not ever marry, certainly not for years.”
She turned and walked away, and if she had twisted her head and looked back, she would have seen the anger mixed with disappointment flash out of Con Groner’s eyes.
She never regained her composure, not all day long, and everyone noticed it. Finally, Sam said, “Cody, Laurie’s got something she can’t quite swallow. I’ve never seen her like this.”
“Really? Well, I haven’t noticed.” He looked over to where Laurie was standing beside Star, after having practiced her ride and her tricks, and said, “Come to think of it, she does look kind of down and out.”
“Why don’t you go over and talk to her,” Sam urged. “You two are old friends, and everybody needs a friend at some time.”
“Okay, I’ll go and see what I can do.”
Cody went over to where Laurie was standing and said cheerfully, “Hi, Laurie. The tricks went well today. I was watching.”
“I guess so,” she said, tuning and leading Star away toward the corral.
Cody accompanied her, keeping up a cheerful line of talk. He unsaddled for her, and then turned Star into the feedlot. “Let me show you a new trick I’ve been working on. I’ve about got it worked out. It’ll bring the house down.”
“I don’t think so. Not right now.”
They were walking slowly, and her eyes were on the ground as she spoke. Her voice was so low he had to lean forward to catch it. Taking her arm, he turned around and said, “Come on. Let’s go somewhere where we can talk.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
“We need to talk,” he insisted. “Is Leona in your tent?”
“No, she went to town.” Cody took her arm more firmly and walked toward her tent. Laurie made no resistance, and when they were inside, he turned to face her.
“What’s wrong with you, Laurie? You’re just not yourself.”
“Nothing you could help with,” she answered shortly.
“Maybe I could if you’ll just tell me what it is.”
Laurie could not tell him the real problem. Instead of answering his question, she looked at him and said, “Have you decided to write your parents?”
“No. I’ve told you I can’t do it.”
“I got a letter from your mother three days ago. I’ve been wondering whether to show it to you or not, but now I guess I will.” Moving over to the chest beside the foot of her cot, she opened it, took out a letter, and handed it to him. As he read the brief letter, she studied his face, thinking, Why does he have to be so stubborn? Why can’t he give just a little bit? Then when he was finished, and he handed the letter back, his face frozen in a tense expression, she shook her head. “It’s killing her, Cody—and your stepfather, too. I don’t think it’s right, your not letting them know where you are.”
“It wouldn’t do any good.”
Angered by his response, Laurie snapped at him, “It doesn’t mean anything that your mother is praying every day of her life that you’ll be all right, that you’ll be safe?”
“God doesn’t have anything to do with it,” Cody shot back adamantly. He stared at her and shook his head. “I put God out of this thing a long time ago. A man just can’t ever depend on God.”
“What do you believe in then, Cody?” she demanded.
“A man,” he said through clenched teeth, “just has to take what he can get.”
A quick anger, almost violent, ran through Laurie. It was only then she realized that if she could be so angry with him, there must be something deeper between them. Refusing to think about it, she said in a shrill voice, “A man takes what he can get? I guess you mean Leona?”
A flush rose to Cody’s face, and he stared at her. “Yes. I guess I mean that.”
Instantly, Cody regretted his words, for he saw that he had hurt her perhaps worse than if he’d slapped her across the cheek. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she said at once, “I’m going to lie down. Please leave.”
He wanted to speak, to tell her that he didn’t mean it, for he knew he owed everything to this young woman, but there was something stubborn in him, and he nodded and said, “All right,” and left the tent.
****
Annie and Frank returned from their shopping trip, and Butler left at once to work on the props for the next show. Annie went inside and started to change clothes, then paused abruptly. Lifting her head, she listened intently. That sounds like a woman crying, she thought. She listened harder, moving over to the side of the tent that bordered that of the two young women, and this time it was unmistakable. Without thinking, Annie left her tent, walked over to the other, and said, “It’s me—Annie. Can I come in?”
She waited a moment, and then the flap of the tent opened. Laurie stared at her, then dropped her eyes. “Come in,” she said as she turned and sat down on the cot. She looked up at Annie, her eyes bottomless pits of woe, and said, “I’m not very good company right now.”
Annie immediately felt a great compassio
n for this young woman. They had become good friends, and Annie Oakley did not have many good friends. Her whole adult life had been spent traveling. But now she and Laurie had eaten together, worked together, and spent some time alone with each other. That was very precious to Annie, so she sat down beside Laurie, put her arms around her, and said, “You’re not the first one to cry. I’ve done it myself.”
“Have you, Annie?” asked Laurie, relieved to have someone to talk to about it.
“Oh yes. Sometimes, before I met Frank, I got so lonely I’d just go off and cry myself to sleep. Then, even after we married, I’ve had times when I’ve felt the same.”
Laurie looked at her and said, “Tell me about what it’s like to love a man, Annie.”
Annie was not too shocked, for she had carefully watched the young woman and seen that many of the cowboys played up to her, especially Con Groner. She had also seen that when the cowboy named Jim Logan came anywhere near Laurie, the girl’s face became very watchful and oftentimes lighted up. She was too wise to make mention of it, but she began to speak. “Most women,” she said, “marry out of desperation. Maybe that’s the way it has to be. What else is there for a woman to do in this country? She can either be a school-teacher, or a nurse, or maybe a servant. Other than that, what choice does she have but to get married?”
“I could never do that,” Laurie said, clamping her teeth together. She shook her head, sending her hair sweeping down the back of her neck. “I’d rather be an old maid.”
“Let me tell you about Frank and me,” Annie said. She told the story of how they had met, and had known from the very beginning, almost, that they were in love. And how she had been young and innocent, and how he had been so gentle with her that marriage, to her, had been a joy. “That’s what you need, Laurie. A man like my Frank. One that will love you and cherish you and think of you first.”
The two women sat on the cot for a long time. Annie’s soft voice was hardly audible, except to the young woman beside her. Finally, Laurie looked up, dashed the tears from her eyes, and attempted a smile. “Thank you, Annie. You’re a comfort.”
Annie Oakley was not an older woman with years of experience and counsel. She herself looked no more than seventeen, younger than Laurie. And yet, she had managed to drive the sorrow and grief, at least temporarily, out of her friend.
“You’ll find a husband. I know you will. Just wait till you’re sure you’ve got the right one.”
For a long time after Annie left, Laurie sat on the cot, thinking about the difficulties of life. Finally, she muttered, “It was easier back at the Fort. Then all I had to worry about was a dog named Ugly!”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“You Listen to Me Preach—And I’ll Watch You Shoot!”
As the Wild West Show of Buffalo Bill Cody made its way to ever larger and larger cities, Annie Oakley became the star of the show. Her shooting of card targets gave rise to the slang term “Annie Oakley” for a pass or a complementary ticket, often punched so that they could be identified while counting receipts. One small card target that she used was about five by two inches in size, with a small picture of Annie at one end, and a one inch, heart-shaped bull’s-eye at the other. Such cards, after being hit, were thrown into the audience as souvenirs, and a wild scramble usually took place for the treasured items.
Annie proved her skill in many formal shooting contests. In April, at Dayton, Ohio, she broke nine hundred and forty-three out of one thousand glass balls thrown in the air, using a Stevens .22-caliber rifle. Later that year, at Cincinnati, she broke four thousand, seven hundred and seventy-two out of five thousand glass balls, at fifteen yards rise, with shotguns, in nine hours, loading her own guns.
Annie, somehow, had a way of making friends wherever she went, and one dear friend that she never forgot was Sitting Bull. He had watched Annie often and became very excited over her shooting, shouting, “Watanya cicilia!” thus dubbing her “Little Sure Shot.”
More and more acts were added as the crowds grew ever larger, and Buffalo Bill was looking forward with anticipation to the grand opening in Chicago. The huge arena there had been reserved, and Colonel Cody and others expected a record attendance. Sam Novak and Mac McGonigal were talking a week before the show got to Chicago, and as usual whenever the two cronies got together, their talk turned to Cody and Laurie.
Sam was braiding a piece of leather into a lariat, as he had seen the vaqueros do, and finally gave up in disgust. “I think you have to be a Mexican to do this thing,” he said. “I’ll just use rope.”
McGonigal’s wizened face grinned at him. “Makes no matter, does it, me boy? You don’t catch anything with rope or leather.”
Sam’s face flushed, for his ineptness with a lariat was the joke of the show. No matter how much Cody tried to teach him, he seemed to get worse rather than better. Finally, he said, “Well, maybe I can become a trick shot artist, or a trick rider like Laurie.”
At the mention of Laurie’s name, McGonigal’s countenance darkened. He shook his head sadly. “She ain’t herself, that girl. I miss the smiles on her happy face.”
Quickly, Sam Novak shot a glance at him, and then looked down at the ground, where he drew a pattern with his boot toe. Then, when he looked up, he said, “I guess you know what’s wrong with her, don’t you?”
“Know what’s wrong with her?” McGonigal snapped, his eyes flashing. “Do I know my own name? Of course I know what’s wrong with her! She’s got a case of lunacy over that friend of yours.”
Sam shook his head sadly. “I guess you’re right. I hate to see it.”
The two men walked around, looking at the horses, watching some of the actors as they practiced the acts that would be added when they got to Chicago. Finally, McGonigal said, “I’ve been thinkin’ on it, and I’ve decided there’s only one thing that’s going to work.”
“Well, that’s one more thing than I’ve thought of. What is it?” asked Sam.
“The boy’s got to get right with God,” McGonigal nodded sagely. “He’s going around, down a blind alley, making nothin’ of his life, and as long as he’s like that, Laurie’s not going to have anything.”
“Maybe she’ll find somebody else.”
“I doubt it. She’s like a few women I’ve seen—just a one man woman. I’ll tell you, Sam, we’ve got to do something and I know only one thing that’ll work.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“You and me have got to pray that boy will get himself saved. It’s going to take somebody besides us to straighten him out. He’s got his head all set against it. I know you’ve talked to him about the Lord Jesus, and so have I. But he’s worked up such a case of hardness in that heart of his, I don’t think our talk ever gets to him. Somebody will have to get through to him.”
Sam agreed, though without much hope, and so the two prayed earnestly, both together and apart, for Cody Rogers. It seemed, however, to do little good, for there was no getting close to the young man as far as talking to him about God was concerned.
But one night, when Sam was sleeping soundly, he suddenly felt someone grabbing and shaking him almost fiercely. He came out of his sleep with a start, and when he opened his mouth to cry out, a hard hand slapped over his lips, shutting them firmly.
“Keep your mouth shut,” a voice whispered, and he recognized that it was Mac McGonigal who was holding him. “Now, I’m turning you loose, but don’t make a sound.”
Sam sputtered as the hand was removed from his mouth. He sat up and saw that only the two of them were awake. “What is it?” he whispered.
McGonigal said, “I’ve got it, Novak—what to do about that young man.”
All the sleep vanished instantly from Sam Novak, and he asked, “What’s the idea? You know somebody’s got to be able to get to him, and I can’t think of—”
“Keep your mouth shut and listen,” Mac said fiercely. “Now, who’s the greatest preacher in the world?”
Sam blinked, scratched his head, and then
said, “Why, Reverend Moody, I suppose. He’s the most famous, that’s for sure.”
“Right! Dwight L. Moody, the greatest evangelist, maybe, that the world’s ever seen.” McGonigal grew excited. “He’s going to be in Chicago when we get there—and we’ve got to get Cody in to listen to him!”
Sam shook his head. “You’d find it easier to get a buffalo to go down that church aisle than you would Cody. You know that.”
“Maybe so, but we’ve got to get him in there. So, that’s why I woke you up, Sam. Let’s pray right now and ask God to do something to get Cody in that meeting when we get to Chicago.”
****
“What’s the matter, Laurie?” Annie asked sympathetically. She had seen Laurie get more and more depressed and finally had come to her one morning as Laurie was grooming Star. She stood there, reached out, and stroked the animal’s silky side, then gave Laurie a compassionate glance. “You’re unhappy and I wish I could help you.”
Laurie could not face her for a moment, then finally she turned and with troubled eyes said, “There’s only one thing that’s going to help me. And that’s—” she almost said “Cody,” and quickly substituted, “Jim Logan getting right with God. And the only way he can do that is for him to hear the Gospel. And that’s what I’m praying for.”
Annie continued to stroke Star’s silky mane and appeared to be thinking hard. Finally, she said, “Well, I haven’t had much chance for church. My family didn’t go when I was a girl, and since Frank and I are on the road, it’s a little bit hard to get there.” She turned suddenly and faced Laurie, asking, “Do you think God answers prayer?”
“I know He does!” answered Laurie.
Annie watched her carefully. She seemed to be trying to look into the very heart of her friend, then said hesitantly, “Well, I don’t know. I hope so. I guess Frank and I should go to church more, but I’ve been watching Sam, and Mac, and you, and I can’t help but wish I had thought more about God.”
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