Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (24 page)

“You’re what?” John asked quietly.

“I’m not at all afraid that you’ll not take care of us.” Addie let the words rush out while she had the courage to say them.

“I’ll do my best. I swear it.” John felt a tightness in his throat. He had never meant anything more in his life.

The lamps had been lit in the lobby of the hotel where they were staying. Two men lounged in the leather-covered chairs reading the newspaper.

“Let’s go eat at a place I know. Your surprise will be here when we get back.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

They passed the bank and turned down a side street toward a small stone building with a wooden porch. A sign on a weathered board nailed to a porch post said:
BUNG FODDER
.

Addie read it aloud, then said: “What does that mean?” John leaned down and murmured in her ear: “You don’t want to know. It’s someone’s idea of a joke.”

They went up the steps and into a room that had two long tables with benches on each side. A colorful mural of a Mexican hacienda surrounded by blooming cactus plants covered one wall. The back wall had two doors, one curtained and one that opened into a kitchen. A delicious aroma filled the small building.

“Lupe!” John called. “It’s suppertime.”

“Don’t ya be tellin’ me what time it is, ya slick-eared son of a mule. Sit yoreself down. I’ll be out when I get damn good and ready to serve ya. It be only . . . Oh, Holy Father! John-ny! John-ny, my love! You come to see Lupe!”

The woman who barreled through the curtained door was almost as broad as she was tall. She wore a full black skirt with a red ruffle on the bottom, a white boat-neck shirt, and numerous bright-colored necklaces of various lengths. Black hair that hung to her waist was caught at the back of her neck with a wide red ribbon.

She tried to wrap her arms around John, but her voluptuous breasts were in the way. The top of her head came to the middle of his chest.

“Hello, Lupe.” John’s laughing eyes found Addie’s.

“ ‘Hello, Lupe.’ ‘Hello, Lupe.’ Is that all ya can say? Tell me I still be your best girl, ya young rooster!”

“If I did that, Lupe, my wife would take a stick to me.” He held the little woman away from him and smiled down into her round, jovial face.

“Yore wife? Ya’ve up and married another woman? Yi, yi, yi!” she wailed. “Ya’ve kilt me is what ya done.” She held her hands to her breast and turned large, sorrowful black eyes to Addie. “Ya’ve stole my heart,” she said dramatically.

“I’m sorry,” Addie said, trying desperately hard to keep a straight face. “I didn’t know he was spoken for.”

Then almost instantly Lupe’s face was wreathed with smiles, and she grabbed Addie’s hand.

“Tell ya the truth, dearie, I was afeared I’d have to marry up with him. He’s been pesterin’ me for years. I’m a-gettin’ too old to keep them high-steppin’ mares outa his stall. Ya ’pear to be young and strong. I’m hopin’ ya pack a wallop.” She slapped her fist into the palm of her other hand. “He’ll be needin’ it from time to time.”

“Don’t take any advice from her, Addie. I’ve known her since I was knee-high to a duck.”

“Ya better pay attention to what I say, John Spotted Elk Tallman. If I can’t have ya, I’m glad— What’s yore name, hon?”

“Addie.”

“I’m glad Addie got ya. Ya be good to her, or I’ll beat yore butt,” Lupe said sassily. Then: “How’s your maw?”

“Amy’s fine. Now that the war is over, she and Rain might come back next year for a visit.”

“I’d like ta see ’em. Now, tell me about this new wife of yours. How did a ugly old thin’ like ya talk her into hookin’ up with ya?”

“It wasn’t easy, Lupe. How about dishing us up something to eat before the place is overrun with hungry men.”

The chicken and rice was delicious. John showed Addie how to butter a hot tortilla and roll it up like a fat cigar.

“Do you like it?” he asked after she had taken a bite.

“Very much.”

“Mexicans put meat, chili, or peppers in them. They eat tortillas like we eat bread.”

Soon it became too noisy to talk. The tables were filled, and customers waited on the porch. Lupe brought out large platters of food. The men took plates from a shelf and helped themselves, all the while teasing the jolly little woman.

When John and Addie finished eating, John left money beside their plates. Lupe followed them to the porch, hugged John again, then wrapped her short, plump arms around Addie.

“Ya got a good man, Addie. I’d-a dropped Amy in a well and took his pa in a minute if’n he’d looked at me sideways,” she teased. “Don’t ya tell Amy that, boy,” she said to John.

“I won’t. Take care of yourself, Lupe. If you get a notion to leave here, load up and hook onto a freight wagon and come on out. You’d be welcome.”

“I jist might do that. Go on, now. I got to get back in there or them men’ll start chewin’ on a table leg.”

“Did you like the supper?” John asked on the way back to the hotel.

“Yes, and I liked her.”

“She and her husband came up from Texas just after the battle for Texas’s independence. Even though her man, along with quite a few Texas Mexicans, fought with Sam Houston at San Jacinto, many people down there hate Mexicans.”

“Has her husband passed on?”

“Quite a few years ago. My folks asked her to come to New Mexico, but she has a no-good son around here someplace and she doesn’t want to leave him.”

They entered the hotel and went up the two short flights of stairs to their room. Addie’s churning thoughts kept her bodily weariness at bay. She’d had an enjoyable day and had become accustomed to John’s company. The realization that she was growing very fond of him made what lay ahead less frightening.

John unlocked their door and went into the room to light the lamp while Addie waited in the doorway. As soon as the room was flooded with light, she saw the large tin bathtub.

“I’ve never seen one before,” she blurted. “Only pictures.”

She ran her fingers over the edge of the high back of the tub and then touched the soft towel, soaps, and powders on the low stool beside it.

“I’ve been told that a bath in a tub is one of the things a woman likes best. My sister pestered my father until he had one just like this brought out.”

“I’ve never bathed in anything but a washtub,” Addie confessed.

“The water is on the way. I’ll wait until the tub is filled; then, while you’re bathing, I’ll call on the judge.” John showed her the thick hose hooked over the edge of the tub, and pointed to a covered opening in the wall. “This is where they empty the water down a pipe when you’re finished, so they don’t have to dip it out and carry it downstairs.”

“Isn’t that something?”

John answered the soft tap on the door. Three boys came in, each carrying two large buckets of water. Steam rose as the water was poured into the tub. One full bucket remained on the floor when the boys left without a glance at either John or Addie.

“If you want them to empty the tub and take it away before I get back, pull on the cord hanging by the washstand.”

“John. Thank you for the surprise.”

“You’re very welcome. I’m not used to providing surprises for ladies, but I didn’t think I could go wrong with this one.”

“It was very thoughtful of you.”

“Take your time. I’ll be gone awhile. Lock the door when I leave, and hang the key there on the nail. I have another key.”

*  *  *

Outside the hotel, John stopped to light a thin cigar, then walked toward the hotel at the end of the street. His mind was on the woman he had left in the room. He wasn’t sure how to proceed with his new wife. He could feel himself swell just thinking about having her in bed, soft, and warm, and willing. There was no doubt that he wanted her—not just any woman, but
her.
He would go slowly.
Hell, I’m not a
randy billy goat,
he assured himself. He stopped at the tonsorial parlor and stuck his head in the door.

“Be back in about a half-hour. Got hot water?”

“Howdy, Mr. Tallman. You betcha. Got plenty.”

John nodded and crossed the street.

The hotel was among the most up-to-date in Arkansas. John had chosen the less fancy hotel for himself and Addie because he thought she would be uncomfortable amid such luxury. As for himself, he had stayed in many fine places, and he cared not at all if the hired help looked down their noses at him because of his frontier clothing. Confidently, he opened the door of the hotel. Its beveled glass pane, decorated with an etching of a stag, rattled, and a clerk at a polished counter looked up.

“What room is Judge Van Winkle in?” John asked.

The young man in the high stiff collar eyed him suspiciously with raised brows.

“The judge is dining.”

“Where?” John asked.

“Why . . . in the dining room. Where else?”

“‘Where else?’” John echoed around the cigar in his mouth. “I thought he might have gone down to Lupe’s.”

The clerk formed a horrified O with his thin lips, then he pressed them together forming a line of disapproval.

John turned his back and leaned against the counter for a moment, then took off his hat, tucked it under his arm, and walked across the lobby to the dining room. The manager was at his elbow the instant he stepped into the room.

“Sir?”

“Which one is Judge Van Winkle?”

“The judge? He’s the one standing beside the table with the Yank . . . ah, Union man. He was getting ready to leave when the soldier came in.”

“Thanks.” John returned to the lobby to wait for the judge.

When Van Winkle came through the door, he was walking behind a young lady and a Yankee captain, the same couple John had seen in Poole’s store. The man was dressed as if for a parade, his blond hair, mustache, and goatee perfectly groomed.
A proud, useless peacock,
John thought. This time the woman wore a lavender dress adorned with pieces of lace and ribbon.

The couple stood closely together and looked into each other’s eyes as they talked. John watched the man lift the girl’s hand to his lips and kiss it. Then, still holding the girl’s hand, he spoke to the judge, who slapped him affectionately on the shoulder. The judge and the girl walked the captain to the door.

John moved out from the wall when they came back into the lobby.

“Judge Van Winkle. I’d like a word with you.”

“Yes, yes,” the judge said impatiently, frowning. “What can I do for you?”

“Not a thing,” John replied with equal impatience. “It’s about what you want me to do for you. I’m John Tallman.”

“Tallman?” He looked at John as if he didn’t quite believe him.

The judge was a tall, portly man with sparse white hair and a thick white beard. The vest beneath his dark serge suit was elaborately embroidered in a scroll pattern. A heavy gold watch chain stretched across his ample girth. He removed the watch now and looked at it as if he had an urgent appointment.

“Tallman,” he said again.

“John Tallman. My cousin is Zachary Quill,” John added, to jog the judge’s memory.

“I know. I know. I just wasn’t expecting— Ah, yes, fine gentleman, Captain Quill.”

“I think so,” John said dryly.

“This is my niece, Miss Cindy Read.”

“Ma’am.” John nodded.

“How do you do. I saw you today in the store.” The girl’s large, cornflower-blue eyes focused on John with interest.

“It’s nice of you to remember me,” John said politely, before turning again to the judge. “The hunter you hired is back at our camp. He said to tell you that he’ll join you in a day or two.”

“The hunter. Oh, yes. A party the size of mine needs someone to hunt fresh meat.”

“Whether you hire a hunter is up to you. One of my men will be in tomorrow to look over your wagons and your stock to see if they’re up to the trip and to make sure you have enough extra parts to make repairs. I won’t be held up by broken-down rigs or worn-out stock.”

“Go on up to your room, my dear.” Van Winkle patted the hand on his arm. “Mr. Tallman and I have a few things to settle.”

“Oh, pooh! You always send me off when things get interesting.” She smiled coyly at John. “Good night, Mr. Tallman.”

“Good night, ma’am.”

After the girl disappeared up the stairs, the judge moved to the far corner of the lobby so that they would have privacy. John followed, then waited as the man lit a cigar and poked the matchstick down into a nearby urn of sand.

“My wagons and stock are my concern,” the judge said, in a tone that plainly indicated that he was not pleased. “The only reason I agreed to go along with you was to provide extra protection for my niece.”

“They may be your concern now, but they’ll be my concern if you break down and we have to wait for you. How many men do you have?”

“Thirteen, not counting myself or my man.”

“ ‘Your man’?”

“Darkie. Been in my family all his life.”

“Thirteen men and six wagons. How many of your men have been out West before?”

“See here, Tallman. I don’t have to justify my selection of these men to you.”

“Buffer Simmons is the only experienced man you’ve got. Isn’t that right?”

The judge’s face reddened. “The recent reports I’ve heard say that the trip is not as dangerous as it was a few months ago. The back of the South has been broken. The Indians are settling down. They know which side of their bread the butter is on. They’ll behave or get rounded up and put in a stockade.”

John was still for a moment, his face unreadable. When he felt he could speak without showing his anger, he said: “Your reports are wrong.”

“No matter. I’ve got six seasoned soldiers, all wearing the blue of the Union.”

“The uniforms will really impress the renegades who attack your party,” John said dryly, and shook his head in disbelief.

“The captain of the patrol is my niece’s fiance, a highly respected man who served in the quartermaster headquarters in Illinois. He’s been reassigned to Fort Albuquerque.”

“A real fighting man.”

The judge ignored John’s sarcasm. “I have been appointed by the late President Lincoln to take charge of Indian affairs at Santa Fe.”