The Bridge

by Robert Knott

  I nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “She gets scared,” Virgil said, “thinking about what we do.”

  “You and me been at this line of work for a long time, Virgil,” I said. “It’s what we do.”

  “Is,” Virgil said.

  “She’s just never got used to it,” I said.

  “No,” Virgil said. “She ain’t.”

  “It’s not just gun work,” I said. “Lots of circumstances and incidents can be attributed to not being here on this Earth anymore.”

  “The unexpected is always more expectant with gun work, though, Everett, you know that.”

  “Is,” I said. “Of course it is.”

  We watched the rain for a bit.

  “Old Salt was right,” I said.

  “’Bout?”

  “Weather getting worse before it gets better.”

  Virgil nodded and pulled his watch. He flipped open the lid and checked the time.

  “Allie was thrilled to know you was okay,” Virgil said. “She was appreciative as well she wouldn’t have to cancel her ladies’ social shindig on account of something bad happening.”

  “Appreciative?” I said.

  Virgil nodded.

  “What shindig?”

  “For the traveling troupe,” he said, as he shut the lid on his timepiece and put it back in his pocket. “The mayor’s gonna formally welcome them.”

  “Now?”

  “’Bout an hour from,” Virgil said.

  I thought about that for a moment as I watched the rain pour off the porch roof, making a trench line in the street between the boardwalk and hitch.

  “You expected at this shindig?” I said.

  “Seeing how you are upright and alive,” Virgil said. “We are.”

  “How about we get a beer first?” I said.

  “How ’bout it,” Virgil said with a nod.

  We walked a bit, listening to the rain on the metal roof covering the boardwalk. We came to Grove’s Place, a lively saloon where cattlemen from the stockyards gathered.

  —12—

  We entered Grove’s and the saloon was more spirited than usual with stockyard hands and cowboys off work because of the nasty conditions.

  Virgil and I got us a beer and stood next to a tall table by the window and watched it rain.

  “Calm’s over,” I said.

  Virgil nodded.

  “Outlaw racket come back in business today,” I said.

  “Did,” Virgil said.

  “Weather comes woes,” I said.

  We sipped our beer and didn’t say anything for a while.

  “This Ballard fella,” I said. “Sounds like he might have a bone or two to pick.”

  “Does,” Virgil said. “Don’t seem like he’s going to appreciate you shooting his brother, Bolger, none.”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t, either.”

  “Might be a good idea if we locate him before he locates you,” Virgil said.

  I nodded and we watched the rain for a bit as we sipped our beers.

  “Damn monsoon,” I said.

  “Happens once and a while,” Virgil said.

  A group of young cowhands across the room burst into laughter after one of them told the punch line to a joke.

  Virgil looked over to them and smiled a little.

  “You notice when the Beauchamp group come into town,” I said, “the good-looking woman sitting in one of the trailers?”

  Virgil shook his head.

  “No,” he said. “Didn’t.”

  “I met her,” I said. “She’s the fortune-teller.”

  Virgil looked at me.

  I sipped my beer for a moment before I said anything else.

  “After I left your place last night, I stopped in and drank some whiskey with Wallis at the Boston House and in she walked.”

  Virgil turned his head slightly and looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

  “Goddamn good-looking lady,” I said.

  “Good,” Virgil said.

  “She told me my life was in danger.”

  Virgil leaned his elbow on the tall table and smiled a bit.

  “She know you’re a lawman?”

  “Does,” I said.

  Virgil nodded.

  “That’d be like telling a farrier he’d get kicked,” Virgil said. “Or a banker would be receiving a large sum of money.”

  “True,” I said.

  “Same concerns Allie’s got for us,” Virgil said. “More bullets move around us than move around most people.”

  “She calls herself Madame Leroux,” I said. “Funny thing was, some of Madame Leroux’s hocus-pocus foretold what I encountered today.”

  Virgil looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

  “She didn’t get all of it just right,” I said.

  Virgil grinned.

  “What’d she allow?” he said.

  “Said she saw men running, scared,” I said. “That’s what happened when I left Hal’s, those two dandies, Grant and Elliott, came running right by me. Damn near run over me.”

  Virgil grinned, wider this time.

  “Hell,” Virgil said. “Most men are scared of their own shadow and they run all the time.”

  “Something about her,” I said.

  “Always something about a woman, Everett,” Virgil said. “Fortune-teller or not.”

  “There is,” I said.

  “What’d she not get right?” he said.

  “She asked me if I knew someone or something of some such named Codder or Cotter.”

  “Codder or Cotter?”

  “None of those boys involved in the scuffle in front of Hal’s was named Codder or Cotter,” I said.

  “Well,” Virgil said with a chuckle. “That’s a goddamn good thing, Everett.”

  “It is,” I said. “Be a bit unsettling to think she really knew what she was talking about.”

  “Reckon she can’t be right all the time,” Virgil said.

  “No,” I said. “Reckon not.”

  Virgil smiled again.

  “Figure she weren’t completely shy on the hocus-pocus fiddle-faddle, neither,” Virgil said with a smile, “what with them two running an’ all?”

  “No,” I said. “Not completely.”

  —13—

  By the time we got over to the town hall in the newly constructed Rains Civic Building on Main Street, the shindig was under way. Virgil and I stood at the back of the large room that served as a courtroom when the judge was in town and a town hall meeting room when community business needed to be discussed.

  Appaloosa’s mayor, Ashley Epps, was standing behind the small lectern, speaking to the good-sized crowd that Allie and the ladies’ social had rallied up.

  “Considering the weather,” I said, “they got a good turnout, it appears.”

  “They do,” Virgil said.

  Ashley was a young family man who was fairly new to Appaloosa. Besides being the mayor, he was also the minister of the Baptist church, with ambitions of becoming the territorial governor.

  He was small but mighty, a well-spoken man with a genuine Baptist conviction he wore on his shirt cuff. He had a flashy smile, golden skin, and wheat-colored hair.

  Behind Ashley was the majority of the Extravaganza troupe. There were about thirty people in all. Most were outfitted in some kind of colorful costume, including the band members with their instruments, and a pair of jugglers dressed like jokers on a deck of cards.

  “Colorful lot,” Virgil said.

  “They are,” I said.

  Virgil leaned over to me a little closer.

  “Which one’s the fortune-teller lady?” Virgil said.

  I shook my head.

  “Don’t see her.”

  Beauregard was wearing a fancy embroidered suit. He had on an expensive-looking hat, different from the one he was wearing when he rode into town. A fan of turkey feathers rose from one side. Next to Beauregard sat a beautiful young woman.

&
nbsp; “Must be the wife Allie was talking about,” I said. “Nell.”

  Virgil nodded slightly, looking at her.

  Allie was right, Nell was real pretty; she was small, with delicate features, large brown eyes, and wispy blond hair that curled around her face like a delicately carved frame.

  “Tender kindle,” he said.

  “For ol’ Beauregard,” I said, “she damn sure is.”

  “Pretty,” Virgil said.

  “I’ll give you that,” I said.

  After Ashley took advantage of sharing his political aspirations and views of the territory’s future to the captive audience of Appaloosa citizens, he turned his attention to the troupe gathered around him.

  “Appaloosa is thrilled to have Beauchamp Brothers Theatrical Extravaganza here in the great growing city of Appaloosa. So without further ado.”

  Ashley looked to Beauregard.

  “That’s a word you show folks use, is it not?” Ashley said with a wiggle of his head. “Ado?”

  Beauregard smiled a crooked smile under his big mustache and nodded a little.

  “So without further ado,” Ashley said with a big grin, “please welcome the one and only Mr. Beauregard Beauchamp.”

  Ashley stepped away and the crowd applauded as Beauregard took a few unsteady steps on his way to the lectern.

  “Thank you, Appaloosa,” he said without a slur. “Thank you.”

  Beauregard’s voice was huge and was taller than both Virgil and me. He was older than he appeared when we saw him riding into town on his horse. His long, dark hair and full mustache were dyed and it was apparent to both Virgil and me he was liquored up.

  “Got a few posts missing,” Virgil said.

  “He does,” I said.

  “And thank you, Mayor, for welcoming us, we appreciate your kindness,” Beauregard said. “First, I’d like to say a big thank-you to the App . . . Appaloosa ladies’ social for helping us, as we get ready to bring Appaloosa some fun and excitement to your fantastic community, especially you, Miss French.”

  “He’s seasoned,” I said.

  “Yep,” Virgil said.

  The crowd applauded again.

  Allie was sitting in the front row, enamored with the happenings.

  “With a little assistance from God above,” Beauregard said, “helping us clear out some of this intemperate, this inclement weather, the Extravaganza will be set up soon and under way.”

  Beauregard looked to Ashley.

  “If you, Reverend Epps, and your congregation would be so kind to help us out with some good old-fashion prayers. We . . .”

  Beauregard gestured to his troupe.

  “All of us,” he said, “would be most grateful.”

  Ashley nodded and grinned.

  “We’ll see what we can muster,” Ashley said.

  Beauregard bowed a little, then turned back to the crowd.

  “But we thought here tonight,” Beauregard said. “Prayers or no prayers, we tonight thought . . .”

  Beauregard paused dramatically and then repeated.

  “We tonight thought we’d take this opportunity to give you a little peek of what to expect.”

  Beauregard looked to the musicians and nodded.

  “Here’s a favorite tune of ours,” he said. “‘My Grandfather’s Cock’ . . . CLOCK, I mean clock. ‘My Grandfather’s Clock.’”

  The crowd clapped as the band members got to their feet and started playing the upbeat song.

  “I know that face,” Virgil said.

  “Beauregard?”

  Virgil nodded as he looked at him intently.

  The musicians were a lively group and they danced a little jig as they played. Beauregard held out his hand for Nell to come up. She stepped up and after the band got a few progressions out of the way she sang along. She was animated and expressive as she sang, and in no time at all she had the whole crowd singing along with the popular tune.

  Beauregard stepped off to the side. He misstepped a little but caught his balance. He stood back and watched Nell proudly. He folded his arms across his ribs and smiled.

  Virgil and I watched for a moment, then Virgil said, “I’ll be damned.”

  “Remember?” I said.

  “I do.”

  “Where?”

  “I’ll be damned,” Virgil said again.

  “Gun hand?” I said.

  Virgil shook his head.

  “Snake-oil salesman.”

  “That fits,” I said.

  “Does,” he said, shaking his head a little.

  “Where?”

  “A time ago. Way before you and me started working together, before town work, even. I was working the big gambling room at the Menger Hotel in San Antone. He come around there, selling his remedies. Thought he was the cock of the walk. A young buck then, full of himself.”

  Virgil stopped talking for a moment and just watched for a bit.

  “One evening,” Virgil said, “he sat at the wrong gambling table. They caught him cheating. Rough bunch, they was gonna string him up . . .”

  Beauregard took Nell by the hand between the verses of ‘My Grandfather’s Clock’ and the two of them danced along with the music.

  “Looks like he still thinks of himself as the cock of the walk,” I said.

  Virgil nodded a little.

  “Drinking his remedies, too,” I said.

  “I’ll be damned,” Virgil said. “That’s sure enough him. He was flashy back then, younger, but flashy. I locked him in a closet till the ruckus settled and the gamblers cleared.”

  Virgil just shook his head from side to side a little.

  “When I let him out he wanted to fight me,” Virgil said. “Best I remember, I slapped him a few times and kicked him out the back door and into the trash like the spindly miscreant he was.”

  “Likely still is,” I said.

  “Seems,” Virgil said.

  —14—

  The band played some more festive tunes with Nell singing along. Then the magician, Dr. Longfellow, performed a few disappearing-handkerchief tricks followed by the jester clown jugglers, who made the crowd roar with laughter. As soon as the little show finished up, Allie hurried up behind the lectern.

  “Hello, everyone,” she said. “We, the ladies’ social of Appaloosa, want to let y’all know we have provided some refreshments, cookies and cakes and some lemon punch, so everybody stay, mingle with our special guests, and enjoy.”

  The crowd did just that and the flock of folks gathered around the troupe as they worked their way to the table like cattle headed to feed.

  Allie looked up, seeing Virgil and me standing at the back of the room, and scurried through the throng of people over to us.

  “Oh, Everett,” Allie said, as she clamped her arms around me. “Thank God you are okay.”

  “It’s okay, Allie,” I said.

  Allie didn’t move; she just squeezed me harder, keeping her face nestled in my chest.

  I looked to Virgil.

  “I’m right here, Allie,” I said.

  Allie just squeezed me tighter.

  “Hell, Allie,” Virgil said. “Let him breathe some.”

  Allie removed her head from my chest. She cut her eyes at Virgil a bit, then looked up to me but remained clutching me tight.

  “Oh, Everett,” Allie said. “Thank God in Heaven you are okay. I was so worried about you.”

  “Thank Samuel Colt,” Virgil said.

  “Virgil Cole,” Allie snapped, as she looked to him. “I swear, you can be so callous.”

  “Nothing callous about being a good gun hand and returning fire,” Virgil said.

  “Oh,” Allie said. “You’re impossible.”

  Virgil smiled.

  “I guess that’s good,” Virgil said.

  Allie looked back up to me.

  “I’m just grateful you’re here and alive,” Allie said.

  I smiled at her.

  “Well, Allie,” I said. “You’re entirely welcome .
. . You put together a good gathering here.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I’m happy about the turnout.”

  “Might have myself a piece of cake,” I said. “Maybe some of that lemon punch.”

  “Oh, yes,” Allie said. “Come and see what we got.”

  Allie pulled me away from Virgil and over to the desserts spread out across the table.

  Virgil followed us through the crowd of folks over to the table, and as we neared I noticed Beauregard look over at Virgil. He was standing with Nell as he talked with Ashley, but he was focused on Virgil. I could tell he recognized Virgil. He leaned close to Ashley and it was obvious he asked Ashley about Virgil. Ashley looked over to us, he said something to Beauregard and then escorted Beauregard and Nell our way.

  “Virgil, Everett,” Ashley said. “Let me introduce you to Beauregard Beauchamp and his lovely wife, Nell.”

  “Oh, yes,” Allie interjected with enthusiasm as she took over the introductions. “Virgil, Everett, this is Beauregard and Nell. Beauregard, Nell, this is Virgil and Everett. Virgil is my, my . . .”

  “Marshal Cole,” Virgil said.

  Allie blushed a little.

  “And this is Everett,” Allie said. “Virgil’s deputy marshal.”

  “I was just letting Mr. and Mrs. Beauchamp here know you are our celebrated territory law officials and what a wonderful privilege it was for the growing community of Appaloosa that the two of you resided here.”

  Beauregard held out his hand to Virgil, but I shook his hand instead.

  “Virgil’s not much on shaking hands,” I said. “Pleasure to meet you both.”

  Nell looked at me and smiled. Beauregard remained focused on Virgil.

  “We’ve had the pleasure of meeting before,” Beauregard said to Virgil. “Have we not?”

  “Believe we have,” Virgil said.

  Beauregard squinted a little.

  “Card game,” Virgil said. “San Antone.”

  Beauregard chewed a few hairs of his mustache.

  “Menger’s,” Beauregard said. “The hotel?”

  Virgil nodded.

  “Well, isn’t that just the best,” Allie said. “Old friends.”

  “Yes,” Beauregard said. “Old friends.”

  Virgil smiled pleasantly but didn’t say anything.

  “Long time ago,” Beauregard said.