MacCallister Kingdom Come (18 page)

Hanson invited his new friends from Chugwater and Eagle Pass to his ranch for dinner that evening, and to prepare the meal, he'd hired the sous-chef from the Rustic Rock. The meal was a great success, and afterward they gathered in the parlor where the Englishman surprised them by playing several classical pieces on the piano.

“You play beautifully,” Melissa said. “I had no idea you had such talent.”

“It was my intention, at one time, to be a concert pianist,” Hanson said. “But, alas, that was not to be.”

“Why not?”

“I am the . . . or I was, the Heir Presumptive to the Earl of Warwick. Members of the peerage do not engage in such pedestrian pursuits as concert pianists.”

“You said you were. You mean you aren't the heir anymore?” Megan asked.

Hanson smiled and shook his head. “I'm afraid not. One is not allowed to keep a title in the United States.”

“Oh. Are you sorry you came here?” Melissa asked.

“Not at all, my dear lady. I gladly gave up my title and commission to live here in this marvelous country. How could anyone not want to live in a place as vibrant and alive as America? Duff, you having come from Scotland, you must feel the same way.”

“Aye.” Duff chuckled. “It pains me to find myself in agreement with an Englishman, but agree I must. 'Tis no country on earth like the United States, and while I wasn't born here, 'tis here that I call home, now. But we aren't the only ones who have left our native land to come to America.” He glanced toward Wang.

“Yes,” Wang said. “I too, am glad to be in America.”

“Wang, why don't you show some o' them magic tricks I've seen you do?” Elmer said. “I expect these people would enjoy seein' them.”

“You are a magician?” Timmy asked, excited by the prospect.

“They are called illusionists,” Hanson said. “There is no such thing as magic. But a good illusionist can make you think it's magic. Please, Mr. Wang, do give us a demonstration.”

“Yes,” Timmy said. “Please do.”

“Jin ze de Shaolin moshu,”
Wang said, looking at Elmer.

“They will never know,” Elmer replied. “Go ahead, there is no danger.”

“Yes, no danger,” Wang said. “I will do.”

“Good!” Hanson said.

“Blindfold me please,” Wang said. Jason applied a blindfold, then satisfied himself that Wang couldn't see.

“I ask all of you to find something in this house, something small enough that you can hold it. Cover it so that no one can see it and only you know what it is. Then come back. Madam Bowles, I ask that you stay here and keep an eye on me, so that others will know I have not seen.”

Melissa agreed, and the others left to find an object, then returned. Everyone had their object covered, Duff, Elmer, and Jason had whatever they were holding, covered by a hat. Hanson and Timmy covered their objects with a table napkin, Megan had her object covered by a stole from her dress.

“They are all back,” Melissa said.

Wang turned his back to them. “Point to someone. Do not tell me who you have pointed to,” Wang said.

Melissa pointed to Jason.

“You have pointed to your husband. He is holding the picture of a man. It is Mr. Cal Hanson. He is sitting on a white horse, and he is wearing the uniform of a British officer.”

Jason pulled the picture from his hat, and the others gasped in surprise.

Wang did that successfully with everyone else. Then, to the applause of all, he turned back around and removed his blindfold.

“You did not choose anything,” Wang said. “Please tell your husband what you would have chosen.”

Melissa whispered something to Jason, speaking so quietly that no one else could hear her.

“You would choose a silver spoon from the dining table,” Wang said.

“How the hell can you do that?” Jason asked with a gasp. “That's exactly what she said!”

“I learned many things in the temple,” Wang said without further elaboration.

True to her word, the woman Ernie Taylor knew as Peggy left Eagle Pass for Shumla. Two miles outside town, she stopped and changed out of the jeans and shirt she had worn for the ride, into a very low-cut and formfitting dress. She applied makeup with the artistry of a master.

“Dancer,” she said to the horse she was riding. “Say good-bye to Peggy. We're going to leave her here. Say hello to . . . hmm . . . who shall I be? What about Belle? Yes, I shall be Belle.”

She mounted the horse. “All right, Dancer, let's get Belle to town.”

The sight of a woman riding into town alone was unusual enough to draw a great deal of interest. The fact that she was a very pretty woman caused even more attention, and when the people of the town saw that the dress she was wearing was an obvious advertisement for her profession, being that of a lady of the evening, the interest grew even more intense. Men began pouring out of the buildings that fronted the main street, hurrying down the street on each side, looking on in curiosity and unrestrained lust.

Belle stopped in front of the Red Dog Saloon and smiled when she saw that a least a dozen or more men had followed her. She leaned forward to pat her horse on the neck. That action, by design, showed the tops of her breasts almost all the way to the nipples. Looking out at the crowd of men, she put on her prettiest smile. “Tell me, gentlemen, do any of you know where I might find a lady named Sherazade? She is a friend of mine.”

“Sherazade a lady?” one of the men called from the crowd, and several of the others laughed.

“Is that a nice thing for you to say?” Belle asked, rolling her lips out in a pout. “I've been thinking about moving here, but if that is the way you treat ladies, then I may have to change my mind.”

“Cooper didn't mean nothin' by it,” one of the other men said. “Did you, Cooper?”

Several of the others glared at Cooper.

“No, I didn't mean nothin' by it. If you ask me, Miss Sherazade is a lady. Same as all the ones that works for her.”

“What are you lookin' for Sherazade for?” asked the man who had chastised Cooper.

“Oh, I thought I might join her in providing”—she paused for a moment, then leaning ever farther forward, finished the sentence is a husky, breathy tone—“a pleasurable experience for any gentleman who is willing to pay for it.”

Upon hearing that, the men cheered, whistled, and applauded.

“Unless, of course, this town has an ordnance against pleasure,” Belle said.

“Miss, we ain't got a ordnance against
anything
,” Cooper said, and everyone laughed.

“Of course, I only intend to entertain real gentlemen. Do you think you could be gentlemen?”

“I can be the dandiest, most sissified gentleman you done ever seen.” Holding one hand out, Cooper curled his finger.

“Oh, I want a gentleman, not a girly-man,” Belle said, and again the others laughed.

“What's your name?” one of the men in the crowd asked.

“My name is Belle.”

“Well, Miss Belle, once you meet up with Sherazade, how soon do you think it will be before you start . . . uh . . . doin' business?”

“Oh, I plan to start working right away,” Belle replied enthusiastically. “I see no reason to delay, do you?”

“No, none a-tall.” The one who'd asked her was already rubbing himself in anticipation.

It took Matt, Jennie, and Ethan the rest of the day to get the wagon unloaded and the house ready to move in to.

“I'm glad he left the stove here,” Jennie said.

“I checked the pump. It's pumpin' water just fine,” Matt said.

Jennie crossed her arms across her chest and looked around. “Oh, Matt, I'm sorry I was ever against this. Why, it's really nice. All it will take are some curtains and maybe a little paint here and there.”

“And fixin' those two boards that's missin' on the front porch,” Matt said. “I can get them put back in no time.”

“Our own house,” Jennie said, her eyes blazing in excitement.

“More 'n our own house. This here is our own
land
. Why, by this time next year, we'll have made a fine crop of cotton—”

“And don't forget the garden,” Jennie said. “You can't eat cotton.”

Ethan laughed. “Mama, I don't think Papa meant we was goin' to eat cotton.”

Jennie ran her hand through her son's hair and laughed. “I know that. That's why we're going to put in a garden. The finest garden you've ever seen. We'll have potatoes and corn, beans and peas, carrots, lettuce, celery, beets, tomatoes and cucumbers, bell peppers.”

“And maybe some watermelon?” Ethan asked.

“You want watermelon?”

“Yes, ma'am!”

“Then we'll have watermelon.”

“First thing we're goin' to have to do is get us a milk cow and some chickens,” Matt suggested.

“Oh, Matt, you mean we'll have to go into that awful town?”

“No, I told you about White's Mine, remember? It's a mite farther away than Shumla, but I think I'd just as soon stay away from Shumla as much as is possible.”

“Yes,” Jennie said. “I agree.”

Jason, Melissa, and Timmy had come to the depot to see Duff, Megan, and Elmer off for their return trip to Wyoming.

Elmer and Timmy were on the opposite side of the waiting room. Timmy was playing with the intricate ball in a hoop toy Elmer had carved for him.

“Elmer and Timmy seem to have hit it off quite well,” Jason said.

“Aye, so it would appear,” Duff said.

“You wouldn't think so, would you? I mean, a man like Elmer, you wouldn't think he would have much interest in spending any time with a young boy.”

Duff looked at him. “Why would you say that?”

“I don't know. It's just that Elmer seems a rather odd sort.”

“He seems sad,” Melissa said. “As if he has some great tragedy in his past.”

“I've no doubt but that he has,” Duff said. “I'll say this, he has the most storied past of anyone I know or have ever known.”

A whistle announced the approach of the northbound train.

“Well, this is it,” Duff said. “I thank you for being such gracious hosts.”

Duff and Jason shook hands as Megan and Melissa embraced. Then Melissa and Duff embraced as did Megan and Jason. Wang, who had been silent for the entire length of time, stood off to one side, the expression on his face as inscrutable as always.

As they started to board the train, the conductor stopped them. “This is a first-class car. No Chinamen allowed on this car. He'll have to ride in the immigrant car.”

“I have paid for a first-class ticket for him,” Duff said.

“You can write to the railroad, and I'm sure they will refund you the price of your ticket. But that Chinaman will not be allowed in a first-class car.”

“Look here, I'm Sheriff Bowles, and these people are friends of mine,” Jason said in protest. “All of them are, including Mr. Wang.”

“Sheriff, I don't care if you are the governor,” the conductor said. “This is the rule of the Texas and Pacific Railroad, and there's nothing I can do about it.”

Duff turned to his friend. “Jason, would you be for doing me a favor, lad? Would you send a telegram ahead to San Antonio and arrange for a private car? I'll not be for having my friend treated so.”

“I'll be glad to.”

“Until then, I'll be riding in the immigrant car.”

“So will I,” Elmer said.

“Megan, there's no need for you to give up your first-class ticket,”

Megan smiled. “Duff MacCallister, you just try and keep me from that car.”

“But I don't understand,” the conductor said as the four of them started toward the back of the train.

“I don't expect you would understand,” Melissa said, beaming. “But I've never been more proud of my sister.”

Jaco was sitting at a table in the back of the saloon, playing a game of solitaire, when Sherazade came over to talk to him.

“Jaco, we've got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“It's Peg . . . uh, Belle, the new girl.

“What about her?”

“She's not like my other girls. She's a little more refined. She's not used to being treated the way your men are treatin' her.”

Jaco laughed. “A refined soiled dove. That's something new.”

“Yes, well, she wasn't always such. I guess because of that, some of you men are findin' her ways a little strange and they've hit her a few times. I wish you'd tell your men not to do that.”

“If my men are hitting her, she probably brought it on herself. I don't need to be talking to my men. You need to be talking to her. Tell her not to try and come across as somethin' so high 'n fancy, 'n more 'n likely my men will quit hitting her.”

“I just wish you would help,” Sherazade said.

“When you women take it in mind to be soiled doves, you know what you're lettin' yourself in for, same as we do when we start ridin' the outlaw trail. Now, don't bother me with any more foolishness.” Jaco made a dismissive wave with his hand, and though Sherazade looked as if she might say something else, she held her tongue, then turned and walked away.

Jaco returned to his game of solitaire.

“I need to talk to you,” someone else said, approaching Jaco's table. It was Rafferty, owner of the grocery store.

“Hell's bells,” Jaco said, slapping one of the cards down on the table. “Can't a man get a little peace around here?”

“Well, you are the mayor.”

“All right. What is it? What do you want?”

“I just thought I'd let you know that I'm goin' to be runnin' out of groceries soon, and you'd better do somethin'. 'Cause if this town runs out of groceries, things is goin' to get pretty ugly.”

“How do you get your groceries?”

“Normally, they come by train to Eagle Pass, then Tucker Freight brings them to us by wagon. But there don't nobody want to come into Shumla, now. I mean, not with us bein' a outlaw town 'n all.”

“I'll take care of it,” Jaco said.

“When?”

“How many days of groceries do you think you've got left?”

“I don't know. A week, I reckon. Could be maybe a week and a half.”

“Then it ain't a big deal yet, is it?”

“Not yet. But it's goin' to be.”

“Like I told you, I'll take care of it.”