“It’s the girl,” Virgil said. “I see her with the girl and I see a different Allie.”
“Maybe,” I said.
“People change,” Virgil said.
“Not a lot of them,” I said.
Virgil was silent for a moment.
Then he said, “No, not a lot of them.
“Somebody got to take care of Laurel,” Virgil said.
“That would be Allie,” I said.
“That would be Allie,” Virgil said.
“Guess the question’s settled for the moment,” I said.
“I guess,” Virgil said.
68
VIRGIL AND I WALKED UP Arrow Street toward Pike’s Palace in the early afternoon. The day was bright. There was a pleasant breeze off the river. Virgil was wearing his Colt and carrying a Winchester in his left hand. I had my Colt and the eight-gauge.
“You got a plan?” I said.
“I do,” Virgil said. “I figure we’ll walk into Pike’s and see what happens.”
“That’s a plan?” I said.
“Sure,” Virgil said.
“Walk in cold against twenty-five men?” I said.
“We get Pike early, there won’t be twenty-five. They’ll fade like a spring blossom. Probably won’t be that many in there this hour of the day, anyway.”
I paused in front of a sign nailed to one of the overhang supports on the boardwalk in front of a hardware shop.
“No guns to be carried in Brimstone without permission,” the sign read. It was signed “Chauncey Brown, Town Marshal.”
“Chauncey Brown?” I said.
“That’d be Choctaw,” Virgil said.
“So quick,” I said.
“Pike’s like me,” Virgil said. “Needs to be done, may as well get to it.”
We arrived in front of Pike’s Palace. There was another one of Choctaw’s signs outside the door. We stood for a minute. I cocked the eight-gauge.
Then I said, “Here we go.”
Virgil winked at me, and we went in. I went to the corner to the right of the door where I could see the whole room. Virgil went past me and walked around the bar so he was away from me.
“Afternoon,” Virgil said to the bartender. “Could you tell Pike that Virgil Cole would like to see him.”
The bartender jerked his head up when Virgil spoke, and stared at him.
Then he said, “Yes sir,” and walked fast toward the back of the room. Across the room I could see Pony Flores having a meal alone at a table. When he saw us he stood and leaned against the wall. No one paid any attention. Nothing happened for a while. Then Abner came out of the back of the saloon carrying his lookout sawed-off. Some of Pike’s other gun hands appeared and began to spread out around the room. I stayed where I was. Pony stood against the far wall, and Virgil seemed comfortable and at peace, standing by the bar.
It was maybe twenty more minutes before Pike appeared, walking easily from the back, wearing a Colt.
“Virgil Cole,” he said pleasantly, “you cocksucker, why are you here?”
“Val Verde County deputy sheriffs,” Virgil said.
“For what?”
“Being a really bad asshole,” Virgil said.
“You think those badges mean you can take my money and double-cross me?” Pike said. “I bought them badges, and you. And you took the money and double-crossed me.”
“We left town like we promised,” Virgil said. “We didn’t say nothing about not coming back.”
“Virgil,” Pike said, as if he was tired, “don’t fuck with me. You know and I know that I’m gonna have to kill the both of you.”
“Sorry you feel that way, Pike,” Virgil said.
I wondered where Choctaw was. He’d been hired for this kind of moment. But I couldn’t look for him. If the ball went up, I needed to be focused. I had to kill Abner with one barrel, and maybe clean out a couple more with the other barrel. If the dance started, Choctaw would announce himself.
Virgil was silent, waiting. In the saloon, people began to scramble for cover. It was helpful in sorting out who were shooters and who were not. Pike continued to look at Virgil. They were maybe six feet apart. I didn’t know if Pike was cranking up his courage or savoring his moment. Virgil was simply waiting. The saloon wasn’t crowded this time of day. The spectators’ scrambling stopped as all of them got out of the way. The room was quiet. The tension in the room was like a physical pressure.
Then Pike said very clearly, “I believe I can beat you,” and moved a step away from Virgil.
Upstairs somebody fired some shots, maybe three, and the tension exploded. Abner half turned at the sound and I shot him with one barrel, and the two gunmen to his right with the other barrel. Pony shot two men from the far side of the room. Something tumbled from the upstairs balcony. And Pike found he couldn’t beat Virgil.
Pike was good. He had his gun in his hand. He’d cleared leather. But the gun was pointing at the floor and Pike was taking a step backward, then another. Then he suddenly went down and lay on his back on the floor with his mouth open and blood soaking into his shirt front.
When Pike went down, everything stopped.
Virgil stood still by the bar with his Colt in his hand. I was flattened against the wall with my Colt out, and Pony stood across in a crouch, with his weapon out and another Colt stuck in his waistband. The room buzzed with silence.
“We got you from three corners,” Virgil said. “And we can shoot. You want to stay with this, we’ll kill you. And with Pike gone, what is there to die for?”
The remainder of Pike’s crew stood uncertainly. They had their hands near their guns, but none of them had drawn.
“You leave them weapons in the holsters,” Virgil said. “And get out of here and keep going, you gonna live. I see you again and I’ll kill you.”
One of the men said, “I’m leaving,” and with his gun holstered walked out of the room. In a moment three others went after him. Virgil watched them go, then walked slowly around the room.
“Since Marshal Choctaw said nobody can wear guns, the only ones who’d be wearing one now,” Virgil said, “would be Pike’s people.”
He moved from person to person. Pony and I held position.
“So I figure you got a gun, you’re with Pike, and you want to use it,” Virgil said.
Two men sitting in the back stood suddenly. Virgil turned easily toward them. One of the men put his hands up.
“We was with Pike,” he said. “But we don’t want no trouble.”
Virgil nodded and pointed toward the door. Both men walked out. There were no other guns in the room. When he got through looking, Virgil went and glanced at what had fallen from the balcony. It was a Winchester. He looked up and Choctaw was there, head down, half over the balcony railing. Virgil studied him for a moment.
Then he said, “Allie?”
There was a sudden tumble of footsteps from the balcony, and Allie came running down the stairs with Laurel behind her. Allie was carrying the short Colt that Virgil had given her. She kept on coming when she reached the saloon and lunged against Virgil, with Laurel right behind her.
Very gracefully, Virgil took the gun from her hand as she embraced him. He handed the gun to me, as Laurel embraced him, too. Virgil, looking a little embarrassed, put an arm around each of them. I looked up at the balcony. Frisco was standing there, looking down. She smiled and nodded. I nodded back.
Pony reloaded and holstered his weapon. I reloaded the eight-gauge and the short Colt that Allie had used. Despite an arm around each woman, Virgil was putting a fresh shell into his Colt, working carefully behind their heads. I smiled to myself.
Pony walked over to me.
“Just ’cause you can shoot,” I said, “don’t mean I want to hug you.”
“No hug?” he said.
“No,” I said.
Pony grinned.
“Good,” he said.
69
THE SIGN OUTSIDE OUR OFFICE read CHAUNCEY BROWN, TO
WN MARSHAL. We went in, Virgil, the women, Pony, and me. I got a hammer and knocked the marshal sign off, and went back in.
Virgil looked at Allie and smiled.
“So that’s where Choctaw was,” he said.
“He was fixin’ to shoot you,” Allie said.
Virgil nodded.
“They was all fixin’ to shoot us,” Virgil said. “Tell me about Choctaw.”
Laurel was sitting beside Allie on the couch. She was looking at Allie and at Virgil, and sometimes at Pony and at me. She sat perfectly still. She was still silent, but it was, somehow, a lively silence, as if she wanted to jump around.
“Well . . .” Allie said.
Allie’s stories were often long. If you asked her what was for supper, she’d start with when she went for groceries yesterday. But Virgil didn’t push her.
“Pony brought us into town, and we snuck up the back outside stairs and no one paid us no mind. Anybody saw us probably figured we was just some whores coming to work.”
She looked at Pony and smiled.
“With a customer,” she said.
Virgil nodded.
“And Frisco let us in, and said she’d go down the hall and stay with another whore and we could have the room to ourselves. It was a nice room for a whore. I mean, some of the rooms I’ve . . .”
She stopped.
“Anyway, Pony left us and said he’d be downstairs in the saloon, and he went and we locked the door and I took out the gun you gave me, and we both went and watched out the window till we seen you ride into town. Then, a’course, we both run to the door to listen, see what was going to happen.”
As she talked, I stood in the doorway and kept an eye on the street. I saw the undertaker’s wagon go by, headed for Pike’s Palace. Otherwise, everything was quiet.
“And all of a sudden we hear men talking right outside the door. And one of them, I think it was Mr. Pike, one of them says, ‘You can’t find the women?’ And the other one says, ‘They ain’t at the house.’ And the first one, I’m sure it’s Mr. Pike, says, ‘He took them or he hid them. We’ll find them after we get through with Cole.’ ”
Virgil sat in his chair, perfectly still, listening. Pony stood and got a dipper of water and drank.
“Well,” Allie said, “you can imagine how we felt. But we’re listening and listening. And Choctaw says to Pike, ‘How many are they,’ and Mr. Pike says, ‘Two.’ And Choctaw says, ‘Cole and Hitch?’ And Mr. Pike says, ‘Yes.’ And Choctaw says, ‘They that good?’ And Pike says, ‘Don’t matter how good they are, ’cause you’re gonna be up here with a Winchester.’ ”
Allie was having a good time. She paused now, and looked at all of us.
“And Choctaw says, ‘How you want it to go?’ And Mr. Pike says, ‘You get him in your sights and when I say I believe I can beat you, I’ll step aside and you kill him.’ Well, let me tell you,” Allie said, “my blood ’bout froze when he said that. And Choctaw says, ‘Kill Cole first?’ and Pike says, ‘Yes, then Hitch.’ And Choctaw says, ‘Everybody else in place?’ And Mr. Pike says, ‘Yes, got eight guns in the room, including Abner.’ And then they’re quiet, and I hear them moving around outside my door, and then Mr. Pike says, ‘See him?’ And Choctaw says, ‘Got him.’ Then Mr. Pike says, ‘Okay.’ And I hear him walk away.”
Laurel, sill wordless and not moving, somehow radiated excitement. She leaned suddenly toward Allie and made a rolling motion with her hands. Allie nodded and smiled at her. Pony drank some more water. Virgil never moved. I looked back up the street. The undertaker’s wagon was no longer in sight.
“So,” Allie said, making the small word sound long. “I put on the chain bolt and I peek out, and there he is, five feet away, behind one of the drapes, with a rifle. So I aim at him, and I wait. And I can hear your voice and Mr. Pike’s, and I wait and then I hear Pike say, ‘I believe . . .’ And Choctaw steps out from behind the drape and I shot him in the middle of the back, like you told me, aim for the middle, and Choctaw doubles backwards and snaps forward, and the rifle falls over the balcony and he falls on the railing, and then everybody downstairs starts shooting and I slammed the door and locked it, and then I heard you call me. And I opened it and we came down and . . .”
“I know the rest,” Virgil said quietly.
“Yes,” Allie said. “Of course you do.”
70
“I NEED TO KNOW ONE THING,” Allie said.
She seemed still caught up in the drama of the recitation.
“How did you know it was me?”
“Had to be,” Virgil said. “Wasn’t no one else it coulda been.”
Allie smiled and nodded.
“Actually, two things,” Allie said. “I want to know if I hadn’t shot him, would he have killed you.”
Virgil nodded.
“Probably would have,” Virgil said.
“And Everett?”
“Maybe,” Virgil said.
“So that means I saved your life,” Allie said.
“It does,” Virgil said.
“And Everett?” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “And I’m grateful.”
She nodded as if she was satisfied.
“Does that, maybe a little bit, anyway,” Allie said, “make up for any of the bad things?”
Virgil grinned at her.
“Yes,” he said. “It does.”
I went to the desk and took out a bottle. Then I got some coffee cups and poured all of us, including Laurel, a drink. I made Laurel’s drink short. Then I handed the cups out. I raised my cup, and everyone raised theirs. We drank. No one said anything.
Then Allie said, “What are we going to do now? Are we going to stay here?”
“Not good memories here,” Virgil said, and nodded at Laurel.
“No,” Allie said. “We should go someplace else.”
Virgil looked at me.
“Everett?” he said.
“Agree,” I said. “We should move on.”
“I’ll telegram Morrissey,” Virgil said. “Tell him we’re quitting.”
I nodded. We drank a little more whiskey, except for Laurel.
“Where?” Allie said.
“Where what?” Virgil said.
“Where are we going to go?” Allie said.
“Hadn’t thought about it,” Virgil said.
“I want to start over,” Allie said.
“Okay,” Virgil said.
“I want to go back to Appaloosa,” Allie said. “Close the circle. Begin again, see if we can do better . . . see if I can do better.”
“Everett?” Virgil said.
“Got no problem with Appaloosa,” I said. “Maybe even got work for a couple of upstanding shootists like us.”
Virgil nodded.
“Most places do,” Virgil said.
“Ain’t that fortunate,” I said.
“We got the money from Pike,” Virgil said. “We ain’t pressed.”
“Still gotta work,” I said.
“Yes,” Virgil said. “We do.”
Virgil looked at the girl.
“Laurel?” Virgil said.
Laurel nodded and stepped close to him and whispered. Then she sat back down on the couch next to Allie.
“Laurel would be happy to visit Appaloosa,” Virgil said.
“Allie been tellin’ her about it.”
“So, maybe it ain’t a sudden idea,” I said. “That Allie just thought up.”
Allie smiled faintly and said nothing.
Virgil said, “Maybe not.”
“So, it’s Appaloosa?” I said.
“It is,” Virgil said. “You want to ride along, Pony?”
Pony shook his head.
“Where are you going?” Allie said.
“Mother’s people,” Pony said. “Live Chiricahua for a while. Living white face too hard.”
Pony turned to Virgil.
“Jefe,” he said.
And he put out his hand. Despite the fact that Virgil never s
hook hands, Virgil shook it.
“Pony,” Virgil said.
Pony and I shook hands.
He nodded to Allie.
“Allie?” he said.
“We will miss you,” Allie said.
Pony looked at Laurel.
“Chiquita,” he said.
Laurel stood and took the derringer out of her coat pocket and handed it to Pony.
Pony shook his head.
“You keep,” he said. “Remember Pony Flores.”
She stared at him for a minute and then nodded and put it back in her pocket. Then she went to him and put her arms around him and hugged him for a long time.
Pony made no attempt to get loose. He stood quietly, patting her back between the shoulder blades. Then finally he took her arms gently and freed himself and guided her to the couch.
“Pony Flores come back someday, chiquita,” he said, bending to look in her eyes. “You see Pony again.”
She nodded.
Pony looked once more at Virgil. Virgil nodded. Pony nodded back. Then he turned and walked out of the office. We all sat silently, listening to the sound of Pony’s horse as he rode away.
71
THE STALLION WAS STILL THERE, a gray leopard Appaloosa, tending his mares on the flank of a hill outside Appaloosa. He’d been there when I’d come to Appaloosa, and I’d passed him the last time I rode out. Now returning, I paused at the top of the hill to watch him. Virgil and the women went ahead, trailing the pack mule. The stallion reared and snorted at the scent of the mule, though the mule was no threat to his harem. One of the mares drifted away from the herd, and the stallion, glancing at me every few steps, moved off to get her and drive her back. When he got her back to the herd, he left her and came around to put himself between me and the mares. The wandering mare went right off again, not in a hurry, just like she had a mind of her own and wanted to graze where she wanted to graze. The stallion stood, stiff-legged, ears forward, looking at her. He bugled once. Then he looked at me and went after her again. This time he nipped her as he drove her back. She tried to kick him, but he was an old hand at this, and he evaded the kick without effort. He drove her to my side of the herd this time and pressed her in among the other mares. Then he resumed his position between me and the mares, cropping the grass, raising his head every few crops to check on my position. The mare began to edge her way through the other mares, away from the stud. He raised his head and looked at her and bugled again and hurried around to the other side of the herd to block her. She stopped, still among the other mares, and put her head down and began to graze. Eyeing me all the time now, he reluctantly stayed on that side of the herd. Several of the mares appeared to be carrying foals. After they were born, there would be wolves to deal with. Being a stallion is high-pressure business. I decided not to add to the pressure by hanging around, and turned my gelding down the slope and followed Virgil and the women on into Appaloosa.
Appaloosa / Resolution / Brimstone / Blue-Eyed Devil Page 51
