Defending Cody

by Bill Brooks

  Rain lashed at the window and the thunder shook the whole building. Bob imagined this was what it was like when his people fought the white soldiers. Bob thought he heard the thunder speak his name.

  Bob!

  He went and woke up Pearl.

  “What is it?” she said.

  “The storm is telling me to go.”

  She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

  “What time is it?” she said.

  “It’s time to go,” Bob said.

  “Oh, Bob, come back to bed, we can go in the morning.”

  “No, we have to go now.”

  Pearl lay back, still tired. She and Bob had made love several times that afternoon and evening. She’d remarked to him: “Bob, you’re the most insatiable lover I’ve ever had.”

  “That’s the Indian in me,” he said.

  She laughed and said, “I guess you’re the Indian in me now.”

  But now she was exhausted and didn’t want to get up and get dressed and leave in the middle of the night during a storm.

  Bob began to dress. Pearl could see him dressing in the explosions of lightning that lit up the small apartment of Pearl’s they’d moved into upon his discharge from the hospital. Pearl insisted they live there until Bob felt good enough to travel. Bob didn’t argue with her, but now the storm was warning him it was time to go.

  Lightning flash one: He was naked. Beautiful and naked before Pearl’s eyes. Flash two: He had his trousers on. Flash three: He had his shirt on.

  Reluctantly Pearl pulled herself from the bed and began to dress.

  “You better wear something you can ride a horse with,” Bob said.

  “Why not the train?”

  “You forget that’s how come I ended up in the hospital?”

  “You forget that’s how we ended up meeting?”

  “Okay, we’ll take the train, but when we get close to where we’re going, we’re going to get some horses. Real Indians don’t ride trains, they ride horses,” Bob said.

  Pearl dressed quickly because she knew Bob to be a wild impatient boy who might run off and leave her behind. She didn’t want to be left behind. She’d been left behind too many times by men. She didn’t want to be left behind by another one.

  Pearl took a valise down from a shelf in the closet and put some extra clothes in it.

  “What will we do for money?” she said.

  “I don’t know,” Bob said. “I guess we’ll have to go and get some.”

  “Where?”

  “The bank, maybe.”

  “The banks are closed, Bob.”

  Bob thought as he pulled on his boots. His back hurt from all the lovemaking he and Pearl had done earlier. He remembered his grandfather saying one time how he could tell when a storm was coming, even though the sky was clear.

  “How, Grandfather?” Bob asked.

  “When you get pretty old,” his grandfather—whose Indian name was Stone Knife—said, “the storm comes and gets in your bones and makes you feel like winter.”

  Bob didn’t understand his grandfather’s stories. He hoped the storms would never get in his bones and make him feel like winter.

  “I could go and see if there is any money in the drugstore downstairs,” Bob said.

  “Mr. Dalrymple is a sweet man, Bob. I’d hate to see you rob him.”

  “Okay,” Bob said.

  They dressed and went out into the night, the rain soaking through their clothes, and walked briskly to the train station and sat on the hard bench outside, just under the little roof the benches sat under.

  There wouldn’t be a train until morning. But Bob didn’t care. When morning arrived and the train with it, Bob would be ready.

  “You wait here,” Bob said after they waited about a half an hour.

  “Where are you going?” Pearl asked.

  “To get some money.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The pistol Bob had stolen from the headmaster’s house had been pressing against his ribs there underneath his shirt and it seemed to Bob there was only one reason it was nagging him. What good was a pistol if you never used it?

  “Oh, Bob. Be careful.”

  “If I am not back by the time the train gets here, go home and forget everything about me.”

  Pearl got the same feeling she’d gotten before when men left her. It was a feeling she didn’t like.

  “We could just go home right now and forget all this,” Pearl said. “We could just go on being lovers, Bob…”

  “No, we can’t. I already told you, I’m going to become an Indian and settle some scores.”

  Pearl fell silent and for a time the only thing either of them could hear was the hissing rain as it fell hard from the terrible stormy sky.

  “Don’t worry,” Bob said. “I’ll be back.”

  Bob was gone a short while and then he was back. Pearl saw him walking through the rain; his hat knocked down over his eyes, his hands in his pockets.

  “Well?” Pearl said.

  “I’ve got us enough money for some train tickets,” Bob said.

  “Where’d you get it from?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Is that the Indian in you—that secretive part?”

  “Maybe it is,” Bob said.

  Bob and Pearl sat there until morning arrived and brought with it the flier that would take them west a little farther than they were now.

  Pearl wasn’t as sure about things as Bob was. But she loved him more than she’d ever loved anyone, and neither rain nor Bob’s secret side or the difference in their ages would prevent her from going with him.

  “I’d follow you to the moon,” she said.

  “I don’t guess we have to go that far,” Bob said.

  The porter brought them a nice big blanket to wrap up in and they fell asleep like children to the pleasant rocking motion of the train. Bob dreamed about his father and a white high-stepping horse. Pearl dreamed about Bob, that they were getting married in a lovely church in San Francisco.

  Bob woke once briefly and shifted the pistol so it wouldn’t press against his ribs so hard and remind him of what he’d done to get the train money.

  Chapter 14

  The gentleman Billy and Teddy were waiting on stepped forth from one of the cars. He was well dressed in a fine gray suit, over which he wore an open black overcoat. He was hatless and his hair was as dark as his coat, parted down the middle. His equally black moustaches were neatly trimmed, his shoes polished. His posture was that of a man confident as to his own power and he turned and extended his hand to a woman wearing a fine plumed hat, long coat, and gloves. She had skin the texture of cream.

  “I’m guessing that’s Mrs. Banks,” Billy said out of the side of his mouth. “Damn good-looking woman.”

  The woman was followed by a second who was nearly a copy of Mrs. Banks, except she was a few inches shorter and younger and her hat was different. She wore a powder gray coat trimmed in black satin and fastened by a row of black buttons. Following her was another man equally well dressed and wearing a bowler. Slim and tall, with pale skin that looked like it never got the sun on it.

  “Let’s go greet them,” Billy said.

  Billy stepped lively, dressed as he was in his finest buckskins, and greeted the party, extending his hand to each one of the group whom Rudolph Banks, the first man, introduced in turn, beginning with his wife, Emma Banks, followed by her sister, Anne Morgan, and her fiancé, Edgar Rivers. Billy in turn introduced Teddy.

  “Mr. Blue is my trusted companion, anything you need if I’m not immediately available you can consult with him on,” Billy said.

  “Why wouldn’t you be immediately available, Mr. Cody?” Banks wanted to know.

  “Well, sir, sometimes I’ll need to scout out the land to find the best game. It’s always best to keep one good man in attendance with the party at such times. Not to worry, everything is in order. Shall we ride out to my ranch?”

&nb
sp; Billy had hired a stage to take the party in tow. He and Teddy would ride their mounts—one on either side of the stage in “…order to give ’em a little taste of the Wild West.”

  Billy was magnanimous with helping the ladies into the stage, doffing his sombrero gallantly. Teddy tried not to read too much into the look that Anne Morgan gave him as she settled into her seat and looked out the open window of the stage.

  Billy told the driver—old Nate Hays—to give the pilgrims a little show of it, once they got out of town a little ways.

  “Not too hard or too fast,” Billy said to Nate. “Just enough to let ’em know they ain’t riding a cab in New York.”

  “I’ll do her,” Nate said through a fence of crooked teeth.

  And so they journeyed forth toward Billy’s house, toward the waiting Louisa, whom Billy was quite sure would play the begrudging but polite hostess. Billy dreaded seeing her again, wished instead he could bypass the house altogether and head straight for the camp on Dismal River.

  Billy swung his horse wide behind the coach at some point and pulled alongside Teddy and said, “I guess I don’t have to ask whether or not you’re keeping an eye out for assassins.”

  “No, sir, you don’t have to ask. It’s the reason I’m hanging back some.”

  “Good, good. I wasn’t worried, mind you, just wanted to make sure we had our ducks lined up together.”

  “We do.”

  Billy touched the brim of his sombrero, then swung back around and rode up alongside Nate, who was riding high up in the driver’s seat, and said, “Go on, let ’em run for about a hundred or two yards, then rein ’em in.”

  And with that Billy spurred his mount and Nate cracked the reins over the rumps of the double team and Billy felt like a sure-shot showman.

  John and Louisa were finishing their tea when John saw the dust rising far out on the road and said, “It looks like the hunting party is arriving.”

  Louisa didn’t say anything but gathered up the teacups and silver tray, then started for the front door.

  “I hope I wasn’t bad company to you, ma’am,” John said.

  She paused and looked at him and said, “You weren’t bad company, Mr. Sears. But I’d ask that you not mention our little respite to my husband. He can misinterpret even the most innocent situations.”

  “Yes’m,” John said and watched her go inside the house and wished they’d had a bit longer to sit and have tea together.

  Cody and Teddy rode up and dismounted and Nate drove the stage up and brought the team to a halt. John descended the steps and watched as Billy opened wide the doors and gave a hand to the ladies.

  “It’s just about raining good-looking women,” John said to Teddy in a low voice.

  “Best we keep our minds on the business at hand,” Teddy said.

  “I ain’t saying nothing but what I’m saying.”

  Teddy noted again the look Anne Morgan gave him when she stepped from the stage. It wasn’t a long-held look, but one that didn’t need to be.

  Billy led the party into the house.

  “You get the horses and mules the Colonel wanted?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Teddy looked at him.

  “What’s going on with you?”

  “Nothing. What do you mean?”

  “You’re acting funny.”

  “Hell, I don’t know why you’d say a thing like that.”

  Teddy looked toward the house.

  “All right, then, maybe it’s just me.”

  “It probably is just you.”

  “I guess so. Let’s wash up and go in and eat.”

  “You go on,” John said. “I think I’ll just check on the horses, then head on back to town.”

  “You in a drinking mood, John? Is that it?”

  “No, well, no more than I usually am.”

  “He wants me to hang close,” Teddy said.

  “You staying the night?”

  “Says I should stay the night. I think he’s concerned someone will sneak up on him in his sleep and assassinate him. What can I say, he’s paying for my services.”

  “Okay, then, I’ll see you in the morning. He say what time he wants to strike out?”

  “Early, before sunup.”

  “I’ll be here. And if I ain’t go on without me, for if I ain’t, I’m either dead or in jail.”

  John started for the barn.

  Teddy said, “Hey.”

  John turned.

  “What?”

  “It’s just a few more hours before we’re in the country again, try and keep out of trouble, okay?”

  John turned, waving as he did, and went to the barn.

  Not long later, Teddy could see John riding off toward town as he stood at the window inside Billy’s big house. There was a piano in the corner unplayed and he stared at it and wished he hadn’t forgotten the few lessons his mother had made him attend when he was a boy. He felt like maybe a bit of piano playing might ease some of his burden. He would have liked to have played the piano for Kathleen, perhaps heard her sing, or danced with her to music.

  Too late for any of that, he told himself.

  Louisa announced that supper was being served and Teddy went and washed his hands in a basin and dried them with a towel before joining the others. He was seated directly across from Anne Morgan. To her right was her fiancé, Edgar. Next to Teddy on his left was Rudolph Banks, followed by his wife, Emma. Billy sat at the head of the table and Louisa at the far end. The girls sat on either side of Billy.

  They ate with the gentility of people who were wealthy and Rudolph Banks kept the conversation engaged by asking Billy what sort of game could they expect to take and would they get a chance to shoot any buffalo.

  Billy’s girls watched their papa wide-eyed as he explained about the business of shooting buffalo and how they were practically all killed just a year or two previous.

  “We might come across a few strays,” Billy said. “And if so, I’ll make sure you get a good crack at ’em, sir.”

  “Good, good,” Banks said.

  Teddy caught Anne twice looking at him.

  After supper the men retired to the porch to smoke cigars from Billy’s humidor he kept on hand for special visitors and drink some of Billy’s imported Kentucky whiskey.

  They stood on the porch and watched the sun sink off to the west and watched the sky take on a purple hue.

  “I’m anxious for the hunt,” Rudolph Banks said, his face eager, his eyes full of that last bit of sun.

  “Yes, I am too,” said the other man, Edgar.

  Billy made casual inquiries of their riding and shooting skills and both men professed to be quite capable of both.

  “And what about the ladies?” Billy asked.

  “Oh, my wife is a lovely shot,” Banks said, “and a terrific horsewoman.”

  Billy looked toward Edgar, who said, “I must confess, I’m not at all sure how Anne will do.”

  “Not to worry,” Billy said.

  They drank some more, until the land fell into the maw of darkness and stars began appearing. Lights were turned on inside the house and Teddy could see through the windows the women moving about before eventually settling into the parlor. He took his eyes away from the scene and said to Billy, “I think I’ll retire.”

  The guests said they would as well and went into the house to join the women.

  “I had Louisa fix you up the spare room in the back of the house,” Billy said.

  “I was thinking it might be better if I slept out here where I could keep an eye on anyone who might come around.”

  “There’s the barn.”

  “I was thinking that wagon,” Teddy said nodding toward a buckboard that stood alongside the barn.

  “It gets damn cold nights this time of year.”

  “I’ll borrow some blankets.”

  Billy went inside and came back out again with three nice blankets.

  “You change your mind middle of the night, come on
in.”

  Teddy said goodnight and Billy went back inside the house and Teddy could see him joining the others in the parlor through the window. He could see too the profile of Anne Morgan.

  He went and threw down his blankets in the wagon, then climbed in. He removed the shoulder rig and placed it near his right hand so the pistol would be handy, then lay there looking at the stars.

  He knew he was waiting for something, he just wasn’t sure what that something would be.

  What he’d been waiting for came sometime between dusk and dawn—he guessed around the hour of three in the morning. It was just a sound at first, something a man not on his vigil might not have heard at all. The crack of a dry twig, the sound of a footstep on hard soil, the slightest creak of boot leather.

  He rose quietly from the bed of the wagon, shucking off the blankets, bringing his gun to bear in the sound of the noise.

  Something was moving out there by the barn. The moon was only quarter full, the light poor. He closed his eyes and held them shut for a moment, then opened them again and let them adjust to what little light there was. There. Something moved between barn and house.

  He fired.

  The muzzle flash ruined his sight momentarily.

  There was no gunfire returned.

  He slipped from the back of the wagon, staying low, he made his way to the area where he’d seen the movement. A light went on inside the house, then another. The light fell through the windows and into the yard. Whatever had been there was gone. There wasn’t even a drop of blood.

  Billy came out of the house with his hands full of Winchester.

  “What in God’s name!”

  “It may have been nothing, Colonel. But still, it would be best if you went back inside and stayed there until I can check the grounds.” Louisa came out onto the porch carrying a lamp.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Lulu, give Mr. Blue your lamp and go back inside, dear.”

  Teddy declined, said, “Best you dampen it, it makes too easy a target. Go back inside. You too, Colonel.”

  Reluctantly Billy went in.

  Teddy scouted the grounds but found only a single boot print that looked like it could have been freshly made. Whoever it was could have gone off anywhere. Whatever fears Cody had seemed suddenly justified. Somebody was obviously out to do him in.