by Sharon Sala
Letty’s snort was a little bit louder.
“I worked at the White Dove… and I wasn’t scrubbing floors.” When she smiled at Eulis, she was unaware that her affections for him shown all over her face. Then she turned around and offered the man her hand. “Leticia Potter. But you can call me Letty.”
There was a moment of hesitation, and then the man pushed his chair back and stood.
“My name is Robert Lee Slade. Some people call me Robert Lee.” He hesitated for a moment, and then reluctantly added. “And some call me the Cherokee Kid.”
It was to Letty’s credit that she didn’t falter when she shook his hand. She’d seen a man who called himself the Cherokee Kid draw down on a gambler who was cheating, shoot him through the heart, then sit back down and ask for a new deck of cards. But he was a far cry from looking like the man standing before her. Maybe one day they’d learn how he’d come to these hard times, and maybe they wouldn’t.
For now, it seemed his arrival could be the answer to their problems, and that his presence would also put an end to her worries about Eulis’ well-being.
“Pleased to meet you,” Letty said, and then smoothed her hands down the front of her shirt before adding, “I feel it’s only right to tell you the same thing that I told the other men who work for us.”
“And that was?” Robert Lee asked.
“That if you so much as harm a hair on my Eulis’ head, I will hunt you down like a dog, nail your balls to a tree, and scatter what’s left of you to the wolves.”
For the first time since his arrival, Robert Lee looked—really looked—at the woman who’d just fed him. And in that moment, there was a tiny part of him that envied Eulis Potter for the woman who’d claimed his heart.
“Fair enough,” he said.
“All right then,” Letty said, and glanced toward the door. “You can move now, T-Bone.”
The pup stood, eyed the stranger one more time, then turned and trotted away, leaving the doorway empty.
***
A week had passed since Robert Lee’s arrival into their lives. His coming had lifted the weight of Eulis’ responsibilities so dramatically that he was now actually sleeping through the night. Before, he hadn’t had one calm moment since the day Letty had found that gold, although he’d hidden the worst of his fears from Letty, or so he’d thought.
But she had known. She’d been lying beside him every night since their marriage. She’d felt the tension in his body and the way he’d tossed and turned. The burden of being rich was more than either of them could have imagined, even though their lifestyle had yet to reflect the gold and currency piling up in the Denver City bank in their name.
Now, Robert Lee’s arrival afforded them the perfect opportunity for change. Having given up their cabin, they were residing in Denver City’s only hotel, second floor, last room on the left, at the end of the hall.
Their new house finally had windows, but the furniture they’d ordered months ago had yet to arrive, and they weren’t particularly interested in sleeping on the floors and cooking over a campfire again.
Eulis had settled in at the hotel real easy. After the life he’d had, he didn’t need much to be happy—just Letty and a bed in which to sleep suited him just fine.
Letty, on the other hand, was having issues. There was a young woman and a baby in the room next to them. It was Letty’s opinion that the woman cried more than the baby.
The room across the hall was occupied by a woman named Delilah who had more male visitors than T-Bone had hairs. Not that she was judging her. Lord knew she’d been in the same boat for years. It was just a bit noisy from time to time.
As for T-Bone, he’d barely gotten used to the cabin before Letty had moved him into town. She didn’t know that he’d come from Denver City, and that every bad thing that could happen to a dog had happened to him here. If it hadn’t been for his devotion to Letty, he would have abandoned the hotel days ago. Letty knew T-Bone wasn’t happy, but for the time being, there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Until their furniture arrived, they were stuck.
There was also the fact that they had to get used to having neighbors again. After the year that Eulis and Letty had survived, living back in town seemed stifling. There had been too many nights sleeping out on the prairies under the stars, and too many quiet mornings wakened by only the sound of a jaybird’s fuss, or a squirrel’s noisy chatter to readjust easily. Gunshots and loud voices had a tendency of setting a person’s teeth on edge, making them jumpy all the rest of the day. On the ninth day of their stay in the hotel, Letty reached her limit.
***
The woman next door had been crying since before daybreak. Eulis had given Letty a nervous look, apologized for having to leave for the mine so early, took T-Bone with him, and left before Letty could argue. They were going to be blasting today and he didn’t want her anywhere around it. Letty was tired of waiting for tables and chairs that might never arrive, and had contacted the carpenters who’d built their home to start building some furniture. Yesterday they’d begun work on a bed and a wardrobe and when they were done, would make them a dining table and some chairs. Their tools were few, so the furniture would be plain, but it suited Letty’s taste just fine. She wanted out of the hotel and into her own home in the worst way.
With no food to cook, and no cabin to clean, she was left with few options. Denver City was growing, but it still wasn’t a place where a woman could while away a day—unless she was occupied in whiling it away with men—for a fifty cents a poke.
While she was brushing her hair, she dallied with the notion of going to the general store to look at the bolts of fabric, with an eye to making some curtains for her new house. As she was brushing out the last of the tangles, the woman next door let out a particularly loud wail.
Letty rolled her eyes, puffed out her cheeks, and then laid down her hairbrush. If Eulis had been there, he would have recognized the look on her face. He’d seen it plenty of times back in Lizard Flats when she’d been tired of waiting for the hot water he was supposed to bring up for her bath.
She got up from the chair and headed for the door, muttering under her breath and stomping off the distance in long, angry strides. Once in the hallway, it became apparent that the wailing had increased.
“For the Good Lord’s sake,” Letty muttered, and hit the door three times with her fist.
The wailing stopped—instantly.
Letty whacked the door again.
Silence continued.
“Hello!” Letty called, and hit the door again with her fist.
“You might as well open up because I’m not leaving until we talk.”
There was another brief moment of silence, and then Letty heard footsteps moving toward the door. A few seconds later, the doorknob turned and the door swung inward.
Letty stifled a gasp. She’d seen plenty of depravity in her time, but never had she seen a woman in such horrible shape.
The woman glanced nervously around the hallway.
“You need to go away,” she whispered.
“I don’t think so,” Letty muttered.
Blood dripped from the woman’s right nostril onto the front of her dress. From the shape of her clothing, it was Letty’s opinion that it was only the latest in a series of similar stains. She would have glared at Letty, but one eye was swollen shut and the other was bloodshot and purple from bruising.
“What do you want?” the woman asked.
Letty frowned.
“I’m Letty Potter. Me and my husband are staying next door.”
The woman sniffed and then wiped her nose with the back of her hand. The baby on the bed behind her made a weak, squeaking sound. Letty thought it sounded like a sick kitten and the woman looked worse.
She thought about turning around, going back to her room and minding her own business, but the thought came and went faster than a fart. Dismayed to the point of speechlessness, she had to clear her throat before she could find the br
eath to speak.
“Reckon I might come in?” she asked.
The woman looked nervous and glanced up and down the hallway again.
“I’m alone,” Letty said.
Finally she shrugged and stepped aside.
Letty was met with the stench of soiled diapers and sour milk. She saw the diapers in a pile on the floor, and a pitcher half-full of curdled milk. But it was the bleeding cuts, swollen flesh, and dark bruises on the woman’s face and body that worried her most.
“What’s your name?” Letty asked.
She shook her head.
“What? You don’t have one or you don’t want to talk?”
The woman turned away.
Letty’s eyes narrowed angrily.
“Look, lady, your name is beside the point. I’ve been in this hotel for nine days now and I’ve had to listen to you and this baby cry for every one of those nine days. Now I know why. Is the bastard who’s beating you your husband, or just your man?”
The woman drew up as if she’d just been insulted.
“I’m not like that woman across the hall. I’m a wife… two years married.”
Letty’s upper lip curled. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard comments from so-called ‘decent’ women regarding other women who found themselves in dire straits.
“I’ll tell you something about that woman across the hall,” Letty snapped. “She’s got better sense than to stay with some bastard who beats her on a regular basis.”
“I never—”
Letty held up her hand. “It doesn’t matter.”
The baby squeaked.
Letty turned around. “May I?” she asked, and pointed to the baby.
“I guess,” the woman said, and then started to cry again, only this time the tears were silent.
Letty touched the baby’s forehead. It was cool—almost clammy. When she picked the child up, she could barely feel the weight in her arms.
“Is it a boy?”
“Girl,” the woman said. “George… he’s my man… wanted a boy.”
“What’s wrong with her?” she asked.
“She can’t feed,” the woman said. “George says girls are a lot of trouble.”
Letty laid the baby back down and then put her hand on her hips.
“So are you saying he’s mad at you because the baby was a girl instead of a boy?”
“George says—”
Letty snorted.
“I could care less what George says,” she muttered, then fixed the woman with a calculated stare. “What’s your name?”
The woman snuffled around a sob.
“Alice. My name is Alice.”
“Where are you from?”
“Boston.”
“Do you have family back there?”
Alice’s features crumpled.
“No.”
“Friends?”
“I reckon,” Alice said.
“Why don’t you go home?”
Alice lifted a hand to her mouth, as if Letty had suggested something foul.
“And leave my husband?”
Letty rolled her eyes again.
“Unless you’re interested in being buried out here beside that baby… yes.”
Alice picked up the baby, clutching it to her chest.
“George says it’s my fault the baby is sick, but I couldn’t help it. My milk dried up. I’ve been trying to get her to drink this goat’s milk, but she keeps spitting it up.”
“God in heaven, woman… the milk is sour. Can’t you smell it?”
Alice swayed on her feet, and then finally shook her head.
“Everything stinks in here. I didn’t know it was the milk.”
Letty sighed.
“Wrap the baby in her blanket and get yourself together. We’re going to find the doctor.”
Alice blinked slowly.
“There’s a doctor in this town?”
“Yes. His name is Angus Warren.”
“I asked George if there was a doctor here. He told me no.”
“That’s what you get for trusting a man who beats the hell out of you on a regular basis,” Letty said.
Alice reeled from the truth in Letty’s words.
“You don’t understand,” Alice whined. “George—”
“If I had ever been stupid enough to marry a man like your George, he would not have lived past the first day he laid a hand on me.”
“You would kill your own husband?” Alice asked.
“Hell, yes,” Letty said.
The woman’s face was so swollen and distorted that she could hardly blink, and yet she managed to show her disdain for Letty’s words.
“How could you?” she asked.
Letty stood up.
“It’s called self-defense.” Then she grabbed the woman and turned her toward the door and the mirror hanging on the wall. “Have you looked at yourself lately?”
Alice slumped as she laid the baby back on the bed.
“I should have been able to give George a son and it’s my fault that my milk is gone. As a woman, I’m a failure.”
“If you’re all set on being some kind of a martyr, then have at it, lady. But just because you’re stupid, doesn’t mean you have the right to let your baby die.”
Alice pressed a hand against her mouth.
“I don’t want my baby to die.”
Letty stomped to the door and yanked it open.
“Then get off your ass, pick up the kid, and come with me.”
Alice hesitated.
“It’s now or never,” Letty said.
Alice grabbed the baby, wrapped her up in a blanket, and stumbled out the door behind Letty.
“George will kill me if he sees us,” Alice muttered.
“No, he won’t, because I won’t let him,” Letty said.
Alice shuffled behind Letty as they moved toward the back stairs. The baby whimpered once. Letty prayed it wasn’t the baby’s dying breath.
By the time they got out on the streets, Alice was staggering.
“Give me the baby before you drop her,” Letty said, and then took the child before Alice could argue. “Lean on me,” she added, when Alice staggered again. So she did.
Men saw them coming down the sidewalk and stepped aside, unable to hide their shock. A woman and two little boys were coming out of the general store. When she saw Alice’s face, she let out a weak cry of disbelief, and then turned her children’s faces to her waist, unwilling for them to see such a sight. Another man, Henry Smith, who knew Letty by sight as the woman who’d struck it big, got off his horse and stepped up on the sidewalk as they passed by.
“Miz Potter?” he said.
“Mornin’ Henry.”
“Jesus, ma’am. What’s happened here?”
“Henry, if you’re not too busy, would you do me a favor?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Anything.”
“Eulis is up at the mine. I’m thinking there’s a good possibility that I might be needing him soon.”
“You want me to go get him?” Henry asked.
“Yes, please,” Letty said, and then kept on walking.
Henry Smith mounted his horse and headed out of town at a lope.
Alice was leaning against Letty harder now. Letty could hear her labored breathing and figured at the least, she had some broken ribs—maybe internal injuries as well. She didn’t give much hope for either one of them seeing next month, but she couldn’t live with herself without giving this a try.
“Just hang on a little bit longer,” she said. “We’re almost there.”
THIEF
George Mellin had been hiding in the underbrush on the north side of Cherry Creek for the better part of two hours, watching Robert and Mary Whiteside working their claim. His latest had played out weeks ago, and his grubstake with it.
He’d heard all about the big Potter strike and knew that they were hiring, but he didn’t want to work someone else’s claim. Selfishly, he had no thought for his
wife, or the baby’s wants and needs. He had gold fever and he had it bad—bad enough to do something desperate—even illegal.
Yesterday, he’d followed the Whitesides into the general store, subversively eyeing the nuggets Robert shook out onto the pay scale for the goods that they’d purchased. When he saw Mary pick out a pair of new boots and pay for them with no thought for the cost, he’d been struck with envy.
He had already hit up every one he knew for another grubstake, but with no success. His gut was burning. His head was throbbing with every beat of his heart. He needed a way out of the situation he was in, and had decided to just take what he needed.
These days, his wife, Alice, did nothing but whine, and that brat she’d whelped was no good to him. What was a man to do with another female to feed? A man needed sons. He was nothing without sons to continue his lineage.
He sat, watching the Whitesides work, while greed and envy ended the last of his good sense. Several times during the past hours he’d seen one or both of them stop and exclaim at a nugget they’d pull out of the pan. The more he watched, the angrier he became. It wasn’t fair. He deserved a strike as much as the next man, but he kept coming up empty. He was beginning to believe he was cursed by the burden of his family. Oblivious to the fact that his life in all its ugliness was about to be revealed, he moved from a sitting to a squatting position. As soon as the couple moved back to their camp, he would slip away and come back after dark. A few minutes later he made his escape and headed back into town.
***
Letty felt the baby wheezing. She was scared to death it would die in her arms before she ever got to the doctor’s house. Alice was glassy-eyed and stumbling, which was no surprise. She’d been beaten so badly over such a long period of time that she had moved to a place inside her head where the pain couldn’t go.
The doctor’s house was up at the end of the street. When Letty saw his horse and buggy tied up at the side of the house, she breathed a sigh of relief. At least Dr. Warren was home. When she’d stomped out of her hotel room to berate her next door neighbor for making such a racket, she had never dreamed she would wind up involved in such a rescue.
To make things worse, there was always the danger that Alice’s husband would show up and try to reclaim his family. Letty hadn’t ever shot anyone before, but she was pretty sure she’d have no trouble pulling the trigger on Alice’s George.
