“Red,” said Mac, “I haven’t seen Trinity, Hattie, Elizabeth, or Rachel since we rolled in. What happened to them?”
“They were practically in rags,” Red replied, “and the women of the town took them in. They’ve been put up at the Capitol Hotel, and there’s rooms for us, too. Let’s get over there and see about some town grub.”
“As I recall,” said Mac, “the Capitol Hotel is a fancy diggings with tablecloths, real china, plush carpets, and the cost for one night is more than you’d spend in a boarding house in a week.”
Red laughed. “It’s all of that, amigo, but we ain’t paying. It seems Austin regards us a hell of a lot higher than I’ve ever been regarded before, and I ain’t about to deny them that privilege.”
Mac had no answer for that, and when they reached the hotel, there was an even greater surprise awaiting them. The four women they had once rescued naked from an outlaw camp were waiting in the lobby, dressed in the height of fashion. Haze and Buck were already there, staring in awe.
“My God,” said Buck, “somebody’s took Rachel and left me a fancy, high-steppin’ filly I’ve never seen before.”
Mac just stood there and stared. Rachel had changed, but no more so than the others. The arrival of Port Guthrie and the other teamsters created a stir, and Guthrie took Mac by the arm.
“By God,” said Port, “what do you reckon’s just happened?”
“Somebody stole our women and left some strangers here,” Mac said.
“What’s happened, Port?” Red asked, having recovered from the initial shock.
“Me and the boys has been offered our own freight outfit, freightin’ as far west as El Paso, east to New Orleans, and—”
“You’re stayin’ in Texas, then,” said Red.
“Damn right,” Guthrie said. “We got money behind us. We’re buyin’ them teams of mules and the Winchester wagons, to start.”
The rest of the evening was a whirlwind of activity. After supper, the local newspaper interviewed Mac, Red, Buck, and Haze individually. The mid-week edition spoke of their ambition to raise cattle, to own ranches of their own, and suddenly there were prosperous men ready to back them with money, land, and cows.
“I never believed in Santa Claus before,” Haze said, “but I’m startin’ to.”
Austin, Texas. December 25, 1873.
The dust finally settled. Mac had an opportunity to spend some time with Trinity in all her finery, getting used to her all over again. Her room was next to his in the hotel, and that was getting next to him.
“I don’t know how Red, Buck, and Haze aims to handle this,” Mac said, “but I’m of a mind to stand you before a preacher and have him read from the Book.”
“For what purpose?” Trinity asked innocently.
“You know, damn it,” said Mac. “I had a look in the candy store near three months ago, and now I’m ready for a feed.”
Trinity laughed. “Perhaps you should have just taken it, when you had the chance.”
“Maybe I should have,” Mac said, “but I was interested in more than just a roll in the hay. I still am. Now will you stand with me for a reading from the Book, or do I have to build a ranch and wrassle the damn cows by myself?”
“I’m interested,” said Trinity. “In fact, Hattie and the others are thinking we might all jump into this at the same time, with one preacher. How does New Year’s Day suit you?”
“A month ago,” Mac said, “I’d have agreed to it, but this is Christmas. You mean I got to wait another week before the candy store opens for real?”
“I said we’ll stand before the preacher on New Year’s Day,” said Trinity. “The candy store will be ready when you are. Damn it, do I have to draw you a map?”
Mac laughed. He found Red, Buck, and Haze in the hotel lobby, and the four of them walked down the street, past the building that would house the freighting operation to be started by Port Guthrie and his friends. There already was a corral, and the mules nibbled at hay. In the wagon yard were the six wagons that had made the hazardous journey from Fort Leavenworth to south Texas.
“I’m glad for Port and his amigos,” Buck said. “It bothered me some, thinkin’ that we might never see them again, once we got to Austin.”
“I’ll never forget those old freight wagons, either,” said Red. “The Winchester Wagons kind of grow on you.”
“We ain’t bucked the tiger yet,” Haze said. “Hell, we got the promise of everything we need. Why don’t we take the money we got, find us a saloon, and jump neck-deep in a poker game?”
“The rest of you go ahead,” said Mac. “This is Christmas, and the candy store opens tonight.”
The three of them regarded him as though he was playing shy a full deck, but Mac Tunstall only grinned.
The Winchester Run Page 31
