Friends and Enemies (15 page)

“Yes!” Patricia added. “We comb each other's hair all the time!”

The twins scurried after Little Frank as he trotted back to his room.

Jamie Sue strolled over to Robert. “Thanks for cleaning up the kitchen while I cleaned up.”

“The girls did most of the work.”

“Do you know what's scary about all this?”

“Peaches?” he said.

“No, it's frightening to think that I went from a perfectly sane woman to the brink of stark raving mad in only a matter of a few minutes.” Jamie Sue laced her fingers into his. “Am I always that close to complete collapse?”

“Maybe we all are.”

“Even Captain Robert Fortune?” She led him over toward the doorway to the living room.

“When I saw all of you on the floor and the blood on your face, I was as close to losing all control as I ever want to be.” He tugged her tight against him. “You know what brought me around?”

“What?”

Robert could smell lilac water on Jamie Sue's damp hair. “You throwing the chicken.”

She rolled her blue eyes and sighed. “That is the stupidest thing I've ever done in my entire life.”

“Perhaps . . . but it was obvious you were mad at the telephone . . . and mad at the chicken . . . and I knew . . .”

“And mad at myself . . .” she prodded.

“That's when I knew it had been an accident.”

“I suppose your whole family will find out about this.”

He kissed her cheeks. “I won't tell.”

“I know, but I couldn't ask the children to be silent.”

“It's completely understandable to me. Don't worry about what anyone else thinks.”

Jamie Sue stepped over to the living room window and stared out at the steep slope of Lincoln Street. “You know what I was wishing while I was in the tub?”

Robert scooted up behind her. “That you were living at the fort, and you had Maria in the kitchen making pies?”

She leaned her head back against his chest. “You read my mind.”

His arms circled her waist. “You're always reading mine.”

She giggled. “That's because you have such limited thought patterns, Captain Fortune.”

Jamie Sue could feel his shoulders stiffen.

“And what am I thinking right now?”

She spun around and they stood toe-to-toe. “You're thinking that you're late to pick up that Mr. Chambers and meet Sammy.”

“OK . . . you win.”

She reached up and straightened his tie. “Go on. We'll take care of things here.”

“I told the express company to carry everything right into the living room. I don't want you toting around those big trunks. If the girls want to carry things upstairs individually, that's fine. But I'll move the trunks and crates this afternoon when I get home.” Robert picked up his hat from the entry table. He kissed her cheek. “The girls are right. You do look much better.”

With damp hair stringing down her back, and white lace collar buttoned high under her neck, Jamie Sue batted her eyes. “How much better, Captain Fortune?”

Robert plopped his felt hat on her wet hair. “That does it, Mrs. Fortune. I'm not going anywhere. Come on . . .” He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the stairway.

“At ease, Captain . . .” she laughed.

“Were you just teasing me, ma'am?”

“Not teasing. I was testing,” she insisted.

“Did I pass?”

“With flying colors, soldier.”

“Now, may I be dismissed?”

She patted his hand. “Temporarily.”

“Are you sure everything's alright here with the children? It's alright for me to leave?”

“Everything is absolutely back to normal.”

“Mother!” Little Frank hollered from the back room above a chorus of giggles. “Make them comb my hair right!”

Robert glanced down at Jamie Sue. “Go on, Captain Fortune. This is normal. Shall I expect you home for supper?”

He brushed the palm of his hand against her cheek. “Definitely.”

The road from Central City to Garden City was defined by two well-worn ruts, with water still standing in some places, although there had been no rain in over a week. The light carriage dropped in the ruts, spraying water like a muddy pinwheel on the Fourth of July. Each rock and stick tested the strength of the springs and the resolve of the passengers.

“My word,” Chambers huffed. He jammed down his top hat. “I expected more of a road than this.” The cleft in his narrow chin was held straight out, as if plowing a path for the words that followed.

Robert Fortune held the dual leather lead lines twined between his gloveless fingers. He sat military straight. His wide-brimmed hat was cocked slightly left. “Some say this is the good part of the road.”

“I don't understand why the mining company doesn't have an office in Deadwood. I need to examine the books, not the mine site.” A few droplets of mud peppered the back of Chambers's silk top hat.

“Anyone can rent a building and claim to have a mine,” Robert replied. “Most legitimate claims don't rent an office until they have to. I trust your bosses want to see a gold mine, not books about a gold mine. You would have to come out here anyway.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Chambers pulled off his hat and rubbed the corner of his eyes. “Where did your brother go? I can't see him at all.”

Robert gazed up over the pine trees. Thick white clouds drifted across the deep Dakota blue sky. “Sammy needs to explore the best route for a telephone line. That's why he rode his horse. If they can secure a right-of-way, they'd rather have a straight line than a curving one.”

Chambers replaced his top hat and held onto the iron side rail of the carriage seat as the two-horse rig bounced over rocks and ruts. He waved his arm to the north. “I say, there are more buildings than I expected. It's like a village.”

“It is a village, Mr. Chambers. It's called Garden City, but I don't have any idea why. The Broken Boulder is supposed to be over there.” Robert pointed to the east.

Chambers tried brushing the mud drops off his suit sleeves but only smeared them. “There's nothing to the east, save for trees.”

“And rocks . . . and sooner or later a cliff that drops straight down to Spruce Canyon.” The road widened and smoothed out. Fortune brought the team to a trot.

Chambers leaned forward. “Is that your brother up there waiting for us? How did he skulk ahead without our seeing him?”

“Sammy's good at skulking.”

Sam Fortune sat in the saddle on his buckskin horse near the hitching rail in front of a rough-cut-pine cabin with a hand-printed sign that read “The Ittldew Cafe.”

“You get run out of Garden City yet, Sammy?” Robert teased.

“Shoot, no . . . I told 'em I was Captain Robert Fortune and they gave me a twenty-one-gun salute. At least I think it was a salute.”

“Has anyone here heard of the Broken Boulder?” Robert quizzed.

“Yeah, but no one has ever seen it. It's secretive out there. They don't exactly like visitors. All I was told is ride east until someone shoots at you, and you're getting close.” Samuel chewed a light green stem of wild grass.

“This is absurd,” Chambers fumed as he spun his top hat around in his hand. “I traveled all the way from Toronto, and I can't even get to the mine, let alone the books?”

“We'll get you there, Mr. Chambers,” Samuel insisted. “They asked me for a bid on the telephone line, so I know they are expecting me.”

“Is the road east on the other side of that rock field?” Chambers asked.

“The road
is
that rock field,” Sam Fortune replied.

“I reckon we'll have some dinner here. There is nothing beyond this cafe.” Robert jumped down and brushed the brown horses with the palm of his hand.

Chambers carefully climbed down and straightened his tie. Then he stared at the bullet-hole-riddled sign above the restaurant. “This place looks rather primitive. How's the fare?”

“I hear it lives up to its name,” Samuel grinned as he tied his horse off to the rail, then led the trio into the Ittldew.

The brass door handle banged into the wainscoting just below the light green burlap wallpaper as the girls sprinted into the house with a duet shout of “Mama!”

Jamie Sue wiped her hands on her flowered apron and glanced out from the kitchen. “Is the freight wagon here?”

Patricia chewed her lower lip. “No, it's Amber.”

Veronica bounced on her toes. “She has a carriage and wants to know if we want to go for a ride.”

Jamie Sue hung her apron on a peg, then sauntered to the front door. She waved at Amber, who wore a wide-brimmed floppy straw hat and a dress with sleeves that only went a few inches past her elbows. “Where is she going?” she asked the twins.

“Amber said she wanted to test the horse,” Veronica reported.

“She's going up to Central City, Lead, and back here,” Patricia added. “Can we go, Mama? Please!”

Jamie Sue brushed a strand of hair out of Patricia's eyes, then did the same for Veronica. “That will take a couple of hours. I thought you wanted to be here when your trunks are delivered.”

“Oh, yeah . . .” Patricia moaned.

“I'll need your help with the dishes and things. We'll have plenty of unpacking to do. Tell Amber perhaps some other time.”

“Couldn't we go for a little ride, Mama?” Veronica pleaded. “The freight wagon might not get here until noon.”

“I'm not sure I want you racing that horse.”

“She isn't going to race it,” Patricia explained, “just test it.”

“Why is it that doesn't comfort me much?”

“We could take the peach cobbler to Grandpa Brazos. Daddy said he could use some cheering up,” Patricia said.

“Yes, you could do that. If you three girls don't cheer up that old man, nothing this side of heaven will. Take the pie to him, then come back. With Daddy gone and Little Frank with a bum hand, I'll be counting on you two to help me unpack.”

Patricia threw her arms around Jamie Sue and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Mama.”

“We'll be home before noon,” Veronica added.

“You'll be home as soon as the pie is delivered.”

“Don't worry about us.” Patricia followed her sister out the door. “We'll be with Amber.”

Don't worry about you? I've stewed over you two for twelve years, and I'm not about to stop now.
“Aren't you forgetting something?” she called out after them.

“What?” Patricia asked.

“The pie for Grandpa Brazos.”

Robert found that if he kept the team reined back to a slow walk they could keep the wagon rolling through the rocks and stumps without lodging a wheel or busting an axle. Sam circled the carriage on his buckskin, jotting down notes and marking trees with his knife. From time to time he rode out of sight, hidden by the boulders and short ponderosa pines.

Robert maneuvered the team through a narrow lane hacked out in a ponderosa pine grove, then broke out in a small meadow at the bottom of a sloping canyon.

Chambers's black tie now hung loose at his neck, his top shirt button unfastened. His top hat was jammed almost to his ears. “That's a strange way to pile logs.”

“That's a corduroy road.”

“What?”

“The meadow must be boggy. So someone's cut and placed logs side-by-side. Originally used to skid logs out to a freight wagon or sawpit. Sometimes they put dirt on top to smooth it down, but this outfit doesn't seem to want to do anything to make access easier.”

“What keeps the logs from sinking in the swamp?”

“Nothing . . . if they sink out of sight, you have to add more logs.”

Once they jarred their way past the corduroy road, the trees thinned and the granite boulders increased. The trail was smoother and wider, but it still had occasional boulders. To the east Robert saw Samuel's silhouette drop down over the horizon. He reined up when they reached the edge of a sloping descent.

“Good heavens, we aren't expected to drive off the edge of this, are we?” Chambers huffed.

Robert pointed ahead. “There's the road down there. They've been driving something off this, but I'm not sure it was a light carriage. More like a dead-ax wagon, I reckon.”

“But . . . but . . . it's nothing but boulders,” Chambers protested.

Robert rubbed his dark beard and studied the roadway. “Kind of makes you wish you were on horseback, doesn't it?”

“Makes me wish I was in Toronto. I'm just a chartered accountant,” Chambers insisted, “not some Lewiston Clark.”

“Who?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, it's time for us to get out.” Robert swung down from the carriage. “I'm going to walk up there between the horses to keep them creeping down this slope. You go around to the back and hold onto the rail. Let the carriage drag you along like an anchor.”

Chambers eased himself down on the other side of the rig. “My word, are you joking?”

“Nope.”

The accountant tried brushing trail dust off his neatly creased wool trousers. “Where's your brother, Samuel? Perhaps he could help.”

Robert surveyed the empty horizon to the east. “Now that's something Mama and Daddy asked me and Todd for years. They never could find him when it was time for chores. It doesn't look too bad, Mr. Chambers. I'll hold the horses back while you drag your feet. We'll ease on down off of here. I don't think it's more than fifty yards.”

Chambers stomped toward the rear of the carriage. “I've never heard anything like this. I thought the West was settled and all that. They're building concrete streets down east, just as smooth as your front porch, and here we are trying to blaze a trail like Kit Bridger.”

“Kit Carson,” Robert corrected.

“Whatever.” Still wearing his top hat, Chambers continued to huff his way around to the back of the carriage. “I say, this won't get my new suit dirty, will it? I just bought it ten days ago.”