“Now see here,” said Lavinia, firing up. “You can’t come marching in here and insult my girls.”
“Jezebels is what they are,” Ella exclaimed, snatching up a cover from one of the sofas and throwing it over the girls. “How dare you flaunt your shame.” The girls were unafraid of any cowboy living, but they shared an ingrained dread of a righteous woman.
“Leave if you don’t like what you see,” stormed Lavinia, who was not daunted by outraged virtue. “They’re the finest young ladies this side of St. Louis.”
“Young ladies!” shouted Ella, her eyes growing more enormous by the minute. “Tramps and strumpets is what they are, and it’s what they’ll remain until they stop painting themselves worse than any Indian.” She advanced upon Dorine and took her unresisting face into her hands. “You should be ashamed to call yourself a female,” she said contemptuously, and planting her thumb in the middle of Dorine’s pouting lips, smeared the heavy red lipstick in a broad line across her cheek and chin.
“Eeek!” shrieked Dorine, jumping to her feet to stare at herself in the mirror just as Ella, her wrath fully stoked, attacked the shrinking Belle.
“Pull your dress up,” Ella commanded, giving the thin garment a yank intended to draw it up over Belle’s exposed bosom. Instead, the flimsy material came away in Ella’s hand, and Belle stood up in her brassiere and panties. No one was more startled than Ella herself, but having begun a job, she was not one to leave it unfinished, and turned to her third victim. The girl wore her hair in thick, black mounds piled high on her head. Ella pulled out the large pin that held the heavy braids in place, and as the terrified girl shrieked and danced about, she gave the hair a vicious twitch. The whole thing came off revealing a head of thin, ordinary brown hair. “Your harlots don’t even offer genuine goods,” Ella intoned in righteous triumph.
Lavinia had never lacked courage, but the unprecedented events had occurred so quickly she stood with her mouth open and her own ample bosom in danger of escaping its token bondage. “Out!” she screamed, nearly hysterical. “Get out of my house immediately.”
“Not before I sweep this place clean,” vowed Ella, her blazing eyes lighting upon a large fan. “Get to your rooms and don’t come out till you’re decent,” she ordered, raising the fan over her head. Uttering a volley of shrill screams, the girls scampered out of the room. Lavinia gave a gasp and sat down in the middle of the floor.
Lucy entered the hall to find Ella standing over her mistress like a lioness at a kill.
“Are those Eliza’s things?” Ella asked with all the sangfroid of one making an ordinary request. Lucy nodded, speechless. “Then have the goodness to follow me. Do you help Miss Smallwood dress?” Again Lucy nodded. “Good. Bring her to my house in time to get ready for her performance tonight. This woman is unable to attend to her any longer.” Ella marched from the room, stepping over Lavinia with all the unconcern she would give a mud puddle after a spring rain.
Cord didn’t wait two weeks, or even one. Three days later he hailed Ella in the street, and on the following day he was on her porch before she’d finished lunch. When he stepped into her husband’s hardware store on the day after that, she boiled over.
“I never met a more impatient, pesky, bothersome man than you, Cord Stedman. You don’t give a body a moment’s rest.”
“Ella, you know better than to talk to a customer like that,” Ed Baylis said in mild surprise. “He’s liable not to come back.”
“And where’s he going to get his supplies? Over to Casper? You go on back to your barbed wire and pay no attention to me. Mr. Stedman knows what I’m talking about, and if he doesn’t know I don’t mean half of what I say, then he ought to.” Ed Baylis merely shook his head. He’d been married to Ella over thirty years and he’d never yet made a profit from interfering with her, or suffered a loss from letting her have her head.
“As for you, Mr. Cat-on-a-Skillet, the sooner that blessed school is up the better I’ll like it. You’ve hounded me until I’m worried to death.”
“Ma’am, you know I haven’t.”
“I don’t know any such thing, coming into a decent woman’s parlor looking too scrumptious for words, talking me senseless until I agreed to I don’t know what, and then dogging my heels to see it’s done. And don’t trouble yourself to deny it, because I don’t plan to listen to a word you say. The sooner this mess is over the sooner I can rest easy.”
“When will that be, ma am?” Cord asked with enough artful innocence to save him from having his face slapped, but enough saucy amusement to make her wish she’d done it anyway.
“This weekend. The wives jumped on the idea like a hen on a bug. They’ve bombarded Eliza with so many questions I’m almost afraid she’ll back out.”
“She won’t. You sure I can’t help?”
Ella considered a moment. “I don’t see why not if you come by yourself. It’ll give you a chance to mend a few fences as long as something doesn’t happen between now and then.”
But something did happen. The next day the body of a small rancher was found hanging from a tree in a gulch some miles from town. He had been taken away from his home eight days earlier by some deputy marshals whose papers were now presumed to be false. The poor man’s wife had not recognized anyone, but they were widely assumed to be in the hire of the big ranchers, and feeling was running high against those ranchers allied with the Association against the small ranchers and the homesteaders.
Undeterred by the widespread hostility and hoping to get a chance to talk with Eliza, Cord pulled his hat over his eyes, and his presence wasn’t remarked upon until one man looked up to receive a board from his neighbor and found himself staring straight into the cool eyes of the towering cowman.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded, letting the board drop.
“Helping raise the schoolhouse,” Cord said, picking up the board and handing it to him again. “Which is more than you’ll be doing if you don’t hang on to things better.” A couple of men nearby paused in their work.
“Don’t you know what happened to Nash?” the man asked.
“You’re here, and you know.”
“But you’re a rancher.”
“So are Curly and Jesse, and you didn’t drop anything they handed you.”
“They had nothing to do with Nash’s death.”
“Why do you suspect me and not the others?” The men looked at each other uneasily.
“You can’t deny you’re a big rancher.”
“I deny I had anything to do with hanging Nash, and I don’t belong to the Association.”
“Ask the Dalton brothers what he does,” came a voice that took care not to be identified.
“I don’t allow anyone to help himself to what’s mine. I pay for what I get, and I expect others to do the same.”
“Nash didn’t take anybody’s property. You big guys are trying to starve all us little fellas out.”
“You call Nash’s thousand horses a little outfit?” demanded Ella, making her way into the center of the group. “And which one of you thought to send a side of beef so his kids could eat?” The men, never at their best against a woman, began to mumble. “You’ve all got children, but none of you would be here if your wife hadn’t made you, yet this man’s a bachelor and he gives his beef and his time. And if your cowboy friends are so fine and upstanding, why aren’t they here this morning?”
Chapter 8
“I’m not afraid of those boys, ma’am,” Cord told Ella as he accompanied her to the hardware store and the “boys” went back to work on the schoolhouse.
“A lot of good your bravery will do today. We need work, and you’ll do nothing but stir up trouble if you show your face.”
“I don’t hide behind a lady’s skirts.”
“I didn’t expect you would, but there’s a time and a place for everything. Those men could easily do something foolish.”
“That may be, but I have to live here, and if anybody gets the idea I
back away from danger, particularly a paltry threat like this, I might as well hand over my cattle and be done with it.”
“I suppose you’re right. The devil! Why did God make men so stupid? Oh, go on if you must stick your head in a noose, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Cord headed back to the schoolhouse, providing her with’ an excellent view of his strong back, erect carriage, and unhurried walk. She sighed and trouble knitted her brow. He had never cared what went on in Buffalo before, so why did he have to start when things were worse than ever?
Two married ladies greeted Cord with friendly smiles and received a nod and a good morning for their trouble. Since he rarely spoke to anyone, they were pleased with themselves until they saw the change that came over him when Eliza called his name from across the street. His sleepy disinterest vanished, a kind of tightly restrained energy filled his whole body, and his eyes were more open and intense.
“Would you look at that,” sniffed one, struggling to hide her envy. “I’m glad he didn’t look to me like that. I would have had to be rude.”
“I hear she’s forever in and out of that place.” “That place” was how the respectable ladies of Buffalo referred to Lavinia’s.
“They say she’s quite respectable. Besides, she’s going to have the school.”
“Hrump! I’m glad I don’t have any children old enough to attend any school she runs.”
Unaware of the dark mutterings, Eliza met Cord with unalloyed pleasure. “Have you seen the schoolhouse? Mrs. Baylis says it will be finished before nightfall. Can you believe it? It’s a miracle.”
“It is something of a surprise. Seems you only have to make a wish, Miss Sage, and it’s gratified.”
“Please don’t call me by that hateful name,” she begged. “I could never bear it if you only thought of me as a saloon singer.”
“I’ll always think of you as the girl in the brown dress with her cow mired in the mud.” A glimmer of merriment chased her frown away.
“Uncle still gets angry whenever he sets eyes on that cow. To hear him tell it, she intentionally got into trouble so you’d have to stop and lend me a hand.”
“Do you have any other animals in need of help? A lame horse? A chicken that won’t lay eggs?”
“Now you’re teasing, and I never understand it when people tease me.”
“Then I won’t do it again. You have enough trouble without my adding to it.”
“Not as much as before. Mrs. Baylis went to Lavinia’s two days ago and took all my things to her house. I heard there was an awful scene, but now Lucy comes to me. It makes singing not half as bad.”
“Mrs. Baylis is a very kind woman.”
“There’s more to it than that, but no matter how much I plead, she won’t tell me. Oh, dear, I’m chattering again.”
“I don’t mind.” Cord’s eyes were wide open and friendly, but his gaze was so heated and the tension caused by his closeness so intense, Eliza suddenly felt uncomfortable.
“Let me show you the school house,” she said hurriedly. Cord thought it would have been better if the men didn’t see Eliza acting quite so friendly, but she was totally unaware of the tension. Leading him around the structure, she explained how each part would offer some advantage on that much anticipated day when it would be filled with the bright faces of dozens of eager children. Her ingenuous enthusiasm garnered a few smiles from the fond pupils’ fathers.
“She never showed half that much interest in singing,” observed one.
“Why would a pretty gal who can sing better than any I ever heard want to waste her time teaching?”
“Whatever her reason, you oughta be grateful. After what happened with the last teacher, we’re not likely to get another one out here for some time. Especially not for the pay this town offers, and school only lasting four months. A body can’t survive on that.”
“Did you see the way she went slap up to Stedman just like she’d known him all her life? If one of us was to speak to her, she’d run like a doe.”
“She’s probably just grateful. Since he dropped those cowboys, there hasn’t been any more trouble at the saloon.”
“Would you touch any girl Stedman had his eye on?”
“Don’t be a fool. I wouldn’t touch anything Cord Stedman said to leave alone, especially his girl.”
The Sweetwater had been refurbished and the inside glittered with bright lights, but a new building was already under construction that was three times as large, and when Croley and Ira finished turning the old saloon into a dining hall with rooms upstairs for lodgers, they expected to have a virtual monopoly on the trade.
Ira mingled with the customers, enjoying his new stature as Eliza’s uncle and a successful owner. He had started to wear fancy clothes, this evening a burgundy-colored suit with lavish dull-gold trim and off-white hat and boots, and was rather vain about the figure he cut about town. He stopped at a table where a group was discussing Nash’s death, now some two months past, and after listening for only a few minutes, he drew up a chair.
“Stedman’s behind it,” he said, “but he’s too clever to be seen in it himself.”
Two men familiar with Ira’s prejudice winked at each other, but the third man took him seriously. “Cord isn’t connected with the Association. They put him on the blacklist for buying mavericks at roundup for ten dollars a head. They don’t like sharing that kind of deal with an ex-cowboy.”
“You’ve been gulled,” insisted Ira belligerently. “Stedman’s hand in glove with the barons.”
“I don’t know where you get your information, friend, but you’ve been handed a load of bad dice. I used to work for an outfit near Sybelle Creek, one of the inside group, and they were hard set against all cowboys who turned their hand to ranching. Cord is the most successful ex-cowboy in Wyoming, and what he’s done, others hope to do. The big ranchers don’t want that.”
Realizing Cord’s reputation had actually benefitted from his talk with this loud-mouthed stranger, Ira left the table swearing, but Eliza’s appearance caused him to swallow his curses. Watching these rough, unsentimental men sit hypnotized by her singing was balm to his wounded pride; it also meant money in his pocket. By the time her performance had ended in a storm of applause, his good mood was restored, and he went through the remainder of the evening without thinking about Cord again.
Eliza’s worried expression deepened as she surveyed her students. It was the third week of school, and more than half the seats were still empty. She had been certain the schoolhouse would barely hold all the children who would show up the first day, but the dire predictions of the disgruntled were proving to be correct. Some parents didn’t care enough to see their children made the long journey into town each day, and it was much more enticing to the children to get lost in the shoulder-high grass of the valleys and draws than to spend the day cooped up in the schoolhouse.
“Put your books away, children. It’s time for morning recess.” Almost before the last words were out of her mouth, several boys were on their feet and headed for the door, leaving their books still open on their desks or tumbled onto the floor in their hurry to be the first outside.
“I’ll pick them up, Miss Smallwood.” It was nice to have a student as eager as Melissa Burton, but even Eliza found her Goody Two-Shoes attitude, along with her habit of tattling on everyone, extremely wearing.
“That’s okay, Melissa. I’ll take care of it. You go on out and enjoy the fresh air.”
“I’d rather stay in and get ahead on my next lesson.”
Eliza gave up and went outside. Melissa was sixteen and already two full levels ahead of anyone else, which meant Eliza would have to spend even more of her precious time preparing lessons especially for her.
Today the children could choose their own games, and they broke up into groups largely determined by age and sex, and soon were busily working off some of the energy they had stored up during their morning’s lessons. Watching them play naturally, wit
hout restraint and bursting with high spirits, Eliza forgot her concern over the truants and marveled at the energy, excitement, and animation in the bright, hopeful faces. They alone seemed to be untouched by the fear and hatred that wrapped its tendrils around Johnson County a little more tightly each day.
“You look like the old woman in the shoe.” Eliza’s face broke into a smile at the sound of Cord’s voice, and her heart immediately began to beat double-time. Fortunately she did not blush, but her face felt hot and her brain was in a fever of excitement.
“Did you come to see if I survived?”
“I knew you would. I was wondering how your students were getting along.”
The cloud descended on her face again. “The ones who come are making good progress, but there are so many who aren’t here.”
“How many?”
“I can’t be sure. Maybe a third more.”
“Where do these come from?” he asked, indicating the children in the yard.
“Town mostly.”
“It seems enough to me.” Looking at the mass of running, shrieking children, Cord felt there were too many for any one spot.
“Every child in the county needs to learn to read,” Eliza stated earnestly. “It will be doubly hard for them when they grow up. Aunt Sarah taught Uncle Ira, and she said teaching a grown person was the hardest thing she’d ever done.” She smiled ruefully. “It’s not easy for the children to concentrate on their work either when they know their friends are out in the hills having a delightful time.”
“Miss Smallwood, Otis is pulling Sarah Jane’s pigtails.”
Eliza felt trapped and rather irritated. It was hard enough to keep her wits about her in Cord’s presence without Melissa dropping trouble in her lap.
“Tell him to stop, or I shall give him an extra page to copy out.”
“I already did.”
Eliza hesitated. She was too kindhearted to punish Otis in front of the others, but she couldn’t let his behavior go uncorrected.
Wicked Wyoming Nights Page 8
