by Karin, Anya
Eli fell silent and gave me another of his looks, which no one else caught. “They just have a more, er, direct way about them, as you saw.”
That seemed to satisfy most everyone. Father was still a bit shaken, but what Eli said made a good deal of sense. Slowly, everyone went to their tents, or their bedrolls as tensions cooled.
“What was that look you kept giving me?” I asked Eli when we were alone except for the eldest of the Grund girls, who was watching the stars a distance apart from where we sat.
A silent moment stretched into a silent minute, then more. He turned his head to me, finally, and opened his mouth before clapping it shut. He looked a bit like a fish and I couldn’t help but giggle behind my hand. “What is it? You shouldn’t be coy,” I said. “It isn’t as though you’re courting me.”
My brashness surprised even me. Luckily it was quite dark, so the red flush creeping out of my high collar remained hidden.
“It’s just that,” Eli pursed his lips. “I’m not sure how to explain this is all.”
I turned to face him. “Well for one, I know you two were talking about me, or at least in my direction. I didn’t understand any of it, but from the way you carried on, you certainly did.”
He nodded. “It’s a long story. Itan and I are blood brothers. We –”
“You what?”
“We scouted together, after the War. He saved my life a time or two and I saved his. Driven close by circumstance. One particularly terrible winter about four...no, six years ago, I had to weather a blizzard in a Lakota camp. The elder wouldn’t allow it, so Itan vouched for my character. That’s how I know he didn’t mean any harm. And he was quite impressed with you.”
“You mean to tell me that business about him being a – wait, pardon? Did you say I impressed him?”
Eli wore a mischievous grin. “When we stepped away, he said he was amazed at your composure. He expected you to begin weeping and begging, but you stayed stoic and calm. He said you’d make a fine Sioux with your courage.”
I cocked an eyebrow. I hadn’t expected to be complimented, and I’m not much good at taking them anyway, so I covered my astonishment by clearing my throat.
“Suppose it’s about time to shut my eyes a while.” Eli stood and offered his hand, which I took. “You should too. Long road still.”
I nodded and watched Eli wander back to the circled wagons, where he reclined against a wheel, crossed his hands behind his head and tipped his hat down over his eyes.
A bureau scout, blood brothers with a Sioux, and somehow polite to boot, this Eli Masterson was certainly a rare specimen, I thought, as he stretched his arms over his head.
Three
September 1, 1878
Deadwood Camp, Dakota Territory
“Here we are, folks,” Eli said. “Last town we’ll come across until Oregon. Beautiful Deadwood.”
A horse, which seemed almost as mange-ridden as the man riding upon it, sauntered out into the middle of the mud street, and did his business. My father and Eli laughed, though I was mortified at their base humor. Still, it was nice to be somewhere that there were other horses to make such a mess.
The days between our run-in with the Sioux and our arrival in Deadwood passed without much event. One event of note though, was May, got bit by some kind of insect and the poor girl’s hand swelled up like a melon. Eli treated her with white goo from some thick-stalked weed, and she was quickly right as rain.
He never ceased to amaze. Though by the time our caravan squished into Deadwood on a road of muck thicker than any I’d ever seen, I was aware that I had become significantly more impressed with Eli than any of the other travelers. It didn’t hurt that he was forever checking on me, making sure of my comfort and that I had enough to eat, or drink, or enough privacy for this-or-that.
Father had taken to calling him my cowboy-fiancé, which caused me all manner of embarrassment, even as a private joke.
“Mr. Masterson,” my father said. “I thought we’d agreed that Clara and I would be staying away from town, on our claim. Why have we stopped here? There’s such a great mess that I’m not sure I can handle this myself, much less subject my daughter to it.”
Eli sucked on two of his teeth. “I was thinking about that, Mr. James, and I’m not sure that’s the best idea. Itan and his band won’t give you any trouble, but I can’t say the same for the rest of the Sioux.”
They looked at one another for a moment. “I don’t know,” Father said. “This seems –”
“What’s this? New load of grist for the mill?” A man shouted from a balcony overhanging the street. “Did you ask me for permission to bring those, what are they?” He squinted at us. “Limber-livered yankees?”
“Miss and Mr. James, meet Al Swearengen. Closest thing to a boss the little town of Deadwood’s got.” Eli pursed his lips and turned to us. “Best watch yourself around him,” he said quietly. “Mr. Swearengen, how does the morning treat you? These two, yes, will be joining your camp, though I expect they’d like to join as little of it as possible.”
The round-bellied man who wore only long johns and dark trousers grunted a laugh and smoothed his mustache. “Give me a minute,” he said. “I’ll be down. Bring them in. No one’s about just yet to offend the lady, or to excite the old man.” With that, he disappeared into what I assumed were his chambers.
“Do we really need to deal with that ruffian?” Father hopped down off the wagon, following Eli’s lead. I climbed out of the back and went along. “And Clara, I’d really like it if you’d stay back there. We’ve no idea what’s going to be lurking in that... brothel.” He said the word like it was poison.
I pursed my lips. “Father, I’m going to be living here as well. And that Mr. Swearengen said there was nothing scandalous happening at present, so I don’t see the problem.”
“She’s right,” Eli said. “Just like with Itan. The best way to avoid trouble is to at least pretend like it don’t bother you. But as to what Al said. Al Swearengen says a lot of things. A whole lot of them. But if you stay aright with him, he’s not the type to stab you in the back, or the guts as the case may be. But never, never, cross him. Do you both understand me?”
Father chewed the end of his mustache and nodded. “Is he some sort of criminal? Gang boss?”
Eli shook his head. “No, he’s just the smartest damned person in this camp. As soon as gold was found in the hills, he took a fortune up here and started building. The Gem, where we’re headed now, was first. Come on, he’s also not the type to keep waiting for too long.”
Pushing through the door of the Gem Theater and Saloon, I took a step back in time. It was, as Mr. Swearengen said, devoid of life, except for two women. One of them had gray streaks starting at her temples, and wore a modest cotton gown in the same high-necked style as mine. She had stern hazel eyes and a tightly bowed mouth that didn’t seem very apt to start joking.
The other was a younger woman, stunningly beautiful, and adorned in a pair of stockings that seemed to be held together by threads. She knelt on the floor, pushing a broom through a puddle. Both of them stopped and watched when we entered, though their mouths didn’t fall open until they saw me.
“Now there’s an unsoiled flower if I ever saw one, Miss Gretchen,” the younger woman said. “The Hell’s she doin’ here?”
“That’s enough Tammy,” the older woman clicked her teeth. “I’m sure the lady has some business here or she wouldn’t have come in. Though, miss?” She turned to me and raised her voice. “I’d watch your hem. There’s a bit of, ah, well, mess on the floor there. You might want to avoid it.”
“Oh, thank you,” I muttered as I stepped around the foul looking liquid she mentioned and hiked my dress up high enough to step over anything particularly horrifying. Miss Gretchen took a sip from a short glass of what I assumed was some kind of whiskey, pursed her lips and nodded.
From upstairs, a great crashing sound erupted, and then a rattling. Finally Mr. Swearengen emerg
ed, pulling the straps on his suspenders into place and donning a remarkably urbane overcoat.
“Now, I wasn’t paying attention when Eli introduced you two earlier. What might I call you?” He had an accent that was difficult to place. It certainly wasn’t anything like Eli’s, but the refinement in his voice carried a dishonest note, as though he had practiced a great deal to have such a sound. “Oh, how rude. Yes, yes, of course. I’m the owner of this establishment, and long-time Deadwood resident. Or maybe I was the first one. Hard to remember as the years trot past.” He walked his fingers over the bar top, and pulled back his teeth in a silent laugh. “Any rate, I’m Elbert Swearengen, but I can’t think of the last time anyone called me that. I go by ‘Al’. My family’s from Iowa, but I’ve moved around, hence the slightly curious way of speaking.”
“Elbert,” my father said, extending his hand, “glad to meet you. My daughter and I – oh, right – I’m Jefferson and this is my daughter Clara. I’m the part-owner of the James financial institution in New York.”
“Jefferson James.” Al leaned forward on top of his bar. “I’ve heard the name. And I’ve heard you were coming. Are we needing a place to lay our weary heads?”
Something about his mannerism was strange, but he didn’t seem menacing. At least until his gaze moved to me where it lingered for a moment before Father cleared his throat and got the man’s attention once again.
“We were going to stay out of town at the gold claim, but I –”
“No,” Al said without a second’s hesitation. “The Sioux will split you from stomach to throat in half a second. If you’re staying in my territory, you’re staying in town. I don’t much care for our sheriff, but he keeps things orderly. And more than that, there’s no raiding parties. You two will be safe as long as you’re in town.”
Father nodded. “Yes, but you see we haven’t made any such plans. I had made arrangements to stay at the inn between town and the hills until we had our supplies, at which point –”
“No.” Mr. Swearengen waved his hand. “You can’t. You’re not understanding. I’ll not allow it.”
“You can’t control where I stay!” Father scoffed. “Who do you think you are?”
At the same time, both Eli and Mr. Swearengen cocked their eyes. Eli pulled my father to the side. “Look, he might be brusque, but he’s right. I can keep Itan and his group away, but there are thousands of other bands out there waiting for someone to get too brash. There’s no reason to risk yourself that way, nor to risk Clara.”
“But...but this town is full of filth! This isn’t a place fit for her!” Father gnawed heavily on his mustache.
“Well, put it to you this way, friend. If you stay out there for one night, and make it to breakfast, call yourself lucky,” Mr. Swearengen’s voice was smooth, but insistent. “If you make it two, you might be a man who should be playing poker instead of panning for gold. But, as luck would have it, you don’t have to stay anywhere near the center of the camp. Something just came open recently. Very nice place on the outskirts.”
“I... a what?”
“A house,” Al replied. “On the outskirts of town. Built by a man for himself and his wife before he took a fall from somewhere high, or so the story goes. I think his claim just failed and he pitched himself from a mountain.” He shrugged with curious ease and took a sip of coffee.
“The wife’s gone off back to Connecticut I think they were from. And as it happens, I took over the title. As the town expands the house will be in the middle of city bustle, but for now, it’s in a fine position from which to observe the wailing of the apes in the camp’s heart while being safely away from the realities of life in a mining camp.”
He had a way of speaking that was smooth and rambling, but each time he made a point he arched the thick, black eyebrows that sat atop his restless eyes. He never looked at a person for more than a few seconds before surveying the room. I dismissed that as prudent caution, all things considered.
Father paused a moment and swallowed hard. “Can we see the place at least? And I’m sorry Mr. Swearengen –”
“Al.”
“Yes, I’m sorry Al, but I’m not sure how you want me to remit payment. I haven’t got anything with me presently. I supposed I could get a note of credit drawn on my bank if you wish.”
I had never seen my father so cowed. Perhaps ‘cowed’ isn’t the right word. Everything Swearengen said made sense, and from what Eli said, the man did have a great deal of influence, so maybe it was best to avoid crossing him straight away. I grabbed his lapel. “Father,” I said, “he’s being very generous in offering us this house. I’m sure a man of his character wouldn’t offer us anything less than fitting. Isn’t that right, Mr. Swearengen?”
“Cultivated, sensible beauty is far better than beauty alone. My ladies possess a great deal of the latter, but very little of the former. I suppose that’s why they’re here. The lady,” he said as he took my hand and raised it to his lips, “is correct. It’s a fine house, built by a wealthy man who died. It’s also the only one available on such short notice. As for requiring a note of credit, we’ll just say that should you fail to meet your payments, I know where you live.”
He replaced my hand on the bar top and placed his upon mine. His palm was cool and dry, surprising given the heat. With a gaze of stone, he set his eyes on my father, and clenched his jaw. Then he let out a riotous laugh, though again, his eyes didn’t smile.
“Yes, I see.” Father pursed his lips.
“I’m just giving you a runaround. But your name is good enough for me. I expect you shan’t have a problem making payments of twenty-five dollars a week, payable on a Monday? I generally ask for payments on Wednesdays to allow time for my clients to sell their gold, or whatever else it is they have to offer, and get it to our remote little camp, but in your case, I don’t think you’re here to get rich.”
Father stiffened. “Why I’m here is none of your business. Though if it weren’t to get rich I don’t know what would quite be the point.”
Mr. Swearengen raised his eyebrows, but remained silent.
“Any rate,” he said slowly. “My assistant will fetch the key. I’ll keep the title here unless you decide you wish to buy outright, though I’d like to get to know you first. Make sure you fit in with the town.” With those words his eyes fell to me and he retook my hand from the bar. I suddenly wished I’d worn my gloves. The chill of his palm was unnerving and his dead gaze made my soul shudder.
“Miss Gretchen,” he didn’t take his eyes off mine, not for a second. “Could you please bring this fine gentleman the key for that house on the edge of town? What did you say your name was, ma’am?” I could imagine him being related to a serpent.
Eli stirred beside me, but no matter how badly I wanted, I couldn’t look away from the man holding my hand. “I should go, Mr. Swearengen,” I said in a voice barely above a whisper. “My father, he –”
“If you need anything, come to me first, and the sheriff second. He has a badge but I have power.” He took a breath and pulled me close, whispering in my ear. “If anyone causes problems, tell me about it. This isn’t a good place for someone like you. Come to me, do you understand? I can do things no one else in this hellhole can.”
“Okay, Al, that’s about enough of terrifying the lady.” Eli stepped up and yanked my hand away from Swearengen’s grasp. “There’s no reason for all of that. She’s not for you to try and ply your trade with. Head back to the coach, I’ll be out shortly,” he said.
My heart pounded as I followed father out of the saloon and back to the coach. Back inside, I heard Mr. Swearengen loudly protest that he had no foul intentions with me as he was a happily married man. From the audible snort, I think Eli wasn’t quite convinced.
As promised, Eli emerged with a grin.
“Well, I’m glad that went relatively well. And now you’ve met one of the two men who make this place work. The other, Sheriff Bullock, I’m sure will be along shortly. He ten
ds to appear to make himself known to new residents.”
*
The house was a very well built two-story affair. Upon looking around for the first time, there were more rooms than either father or I expected, given the surroundings. The front of the building had a nice porch with two chairs already set upon it, and inside was a dining area, a sitting room and three bedrooms. All of them fully furnished, which struck me as a bit curious, but I was so tired from the ride and everything else that when Eli offered to move my things for me I’m not ashamed to admit I took him up on it and sat on one of the rocking chairs to watch and rest my feet.
“That should just about do it,” Eli grunted as he deposited the last of our wardrobes inside the door of Father’s and my new abode. “Nice place, all said. Maybe Swearengen wasn’t completely dishonest about it. Anyways, I’ve got to see to the others and get gone in the morning.” Eli wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief and pulled a comb out of his back pocket to smooth his hair before replacing his hat.
“Will you be back?” I asked, suddenly realizing I took for granted that he would. “I don’t think I’d like it if I didn’t see you again.”
It came out a bit more anguished than I wanted, but he was too kind to make small of me.
“Of course,” he said. “I’m not taking those folks all the way to Oregon. I’m responsible for getting them to Independence Rock, a few days’ ride from here. I hand them over to another guide who leads them the rest of the way. After that,” he took my hand and tilted his head back so I could see the pale blue of his eyes reflecting the sky. “After that, Miss James, I’ll be back.”
I’d never felt such a swoon. He kissed my hand two times, as gingerly as anything. “Mr. Masterson,” I said taking a breath. “I – thank you for all your help. For everything.” I had to look away to keep myself from turning completely red.
He placed one more kiss on the back of my hand though he let his warm lips linger for a moment before looking up. “Don’t go forgetting about me while I’m gone, you hear?” His smile warmed me through. “I’ll let the sheriff know you two are in town if I see him. He’s a good man, one I’m proud to call a friend. He’ll take care of you. Tell your father good bye for me.”
