The Jeweled Spur (10 page)

The two of them had spent long hours working on this, and now McGonigal and Laurie both knew that they would miss those times. “No way out of it?” Mac asked.

“Afraid not. I wish—”

When Laurie broke off abruptly, Mac blinked and said, “You don’t want to go? Is that it?”

“No, I really don’t,” Laurie confessed. “But we all have to do things we don’t like.”

“That we do, but only if God puts us to it.”

“Well, Mac, I’ve prayed every way I know how, but it’s come down to the end. I’m going to town now to buy my ticket and that’s all the money I’ve got. I can’t stay here, so I have to go home.”

McGonigal shook his head stubbornly. “Maybe God wants you to go home, maybe not. But don’t the Book say He’ll give us the desires of our heart?”

Laurie was accustomed to Mac’s quotations from the Bible. He had one for every occasion, and usually they were apt. But she was weary of struggling with this matter and sighed, “I guess it says that, Mac, but I don’t see how it’s going to work out this time.”

“I’ll saddle Star for you,” McGonigal said, and she watched as he quickly readied the horse. When she swung into the saddle, he said, “I’ll be asking the good Lord to give you what you want.”

“Thanks, Mac,” she smiled down at him fondly. “You always look out for me.” Then she turned Star’s head, and as she galloped out of the stable she suddenly fell from the saddle and dropped out of sight. Clinging with one hand to the horn, she was invisible to anyone on one side of the horse, and she cried out, “I’ll bring you a paper from town!”

President Huddleston had just stepped out the door of the main building when the big horse thundered by, apparently riderless. Then suddenly Laurie popped into the saddle and waved at him, crying out a farewell. Huddleston stared at her in shock, then a smile softened his stern lips. “This place won’t be the same without that girl!” he whispered softly as he watched her ride off at a breakneck pace.

Laurie could not enjoy her ride to town, thinking about being back at the barren post within a week. Actually she was not happy at college either, for she’d come to doubt her dream of becoming a writer. Her disillusionment with that career had begun with Barton Sturgis. From the very first day in class, she had built him up very high. When he proved to be one of the most unworthy men she’d ever known, that had caused doubt to creep in. She’d struggled with this and had finally come to see that a bad man can write a good book—just as a good man can write a bad book.

But it was her own calling to the art of writing that she had come to doubt. She loved to write, but she’d learned that publishers wanted what was selling, not necessarily what was good. Many of her pieces had come back with letters
advising her to make them more saleable—which to Laurie meant making them poor writing.

Sturgis had advised her, “Give the crowd what it wants. At least until you make it. Then you can do the things you like and the devil with the mob!”

Unhappy with the thought that she might be wasting her family’s very meager resources, Laurie had floundered between her dream of being a writer and the suggestion made by some that she do something that paid better and provided more security. Maxine had said bluntly, “Money makes the world go round, kid. Get the cash!”

Now as Laurie rode to the post office she suddenly felt a relief—of sorts.
At least I won’t be wasting Dad’s money on something that may never pan out,
she thought. Throwing off the dark mood, she touched Star with her heels and galloped down the main street. When she got to the post office, she was about to step out of the saddle when a voice called her name.

“Hey, Laurie—come on with me and see the show!”

Laurie turned to see Clint Bonner, the blacksmith, passing by, leading a tall gray stallion. “What show, Clint?”

“Why, the Wild West Show. Didn’t you read about it in the paper?” He drew up alongside her and shoved his hat back on his head, adding, “I been shoeing horses for Buffalo Bill himself all morning. This is his own personal mount.”

“I can’t afford it, Clint.”

Bonner grinned and shook his head. He was a heavy-shouldered young man with very dark skin and gleaming teeth. He’d always shoed Star, refusing to accept any money. “Don’t matter. C’mon, the show ain’t until this afternoon, and I’ll even introduce you to Colonel Cody and some of his fancy cowboys.”

Laurie knew of William Cody’s fame and had hoped to meet him someday. Suddenly a desire to see him perform came to Laurie and she said, “All right, Clint, I’ll go with you.” She
pulled Star around, and the two rode toward the outskirts where the show was to be held in an open field.

Clint had seen the show the previous evening and spoke of it in an animated fashion. “Those Indians scare me a little,” he confessed. “Supposed to be tame, but I’d hate to meet one of ’em on a dark night!” He gestured as they approached a large gathering of wagons and herds of horses tethered closely together. “There he is—the big man in buckskins—that’s Buffalo Bill.”

The blacksmith led the gray horse up to the three men who were having some sort of argument. Laurie pulled Star up, remaining back a few feet, and as Cody turned to greet Clint she studied him with interest. She had read about his exploits as a scout, Indian fighter, and hunter for the railroad, but what she hadn’t told Clint was that her father had met him while serving under General Sherman. Cody looked much as her father had described him—big man with bold features and a pair of piercing eyes. He had a black mustache and a small goatee, which made him look rather natty, but there was no question, Laurie noted, of his strength and agility.

“Got your horse all shod, Mr. Cody,” Clint said, and dismounted to hand the reins to the famous showman. “I built up that left rear shoe, just like you ordered.”

“Fine! I do treasure that horse!” Cody’s voice was a mellow baritone well suited to carrying over a large arena. He glanced suddenly at Laurie and smiled. “This pretty lady your wife?”

“No, but I wouldn’t mind if she was,” Clint grinned. “She’s a college girl. Miss Laurie Winslow, this is Buffalo Bill Cody.”

Cody advanced and put his hand up, smiling. “That’s a mighty fine horse you’re riding, Miss Laurie.”

“Thank you, Mr. Cody.” Laurie felt the power in Cody’s grip, and when he released her hand, she said, “My father served with you once—under General Sherman.”

Cody listened carefully as she related the circumstances, then exclaimed, “Why, certainly! I remember him well—Captain Tom Winslow!” He looked around at his two companions
and winked. “This is an army girl, boys. None of your shenanigans, you hear me?” Then he said, “This is Johnny Baker, The Cowboy Kid, and this is Major Frank North. Miss Laurie, get down and I’ll introduce you to the performers.”

Why he’s the biggest flirt I’ve ever seen!
Laurie thought, and it came as a shock to her. But there was no mistaking the way Cody held her arm as he took her around, introducing her to the men who made up his show.
I’ll have to tell Dad that Buffalo Bill is a lady killer—or thinks he is!

Cody waited until last to introduce the Indians who were gathered over to one side of the encampment. He led Laurie up, squeezing her arm and whispering, “Don’t be afraid, little lady. They look fierce, but I’m right here beside you!” He lifted his hand and said, “This is a guest, Running Bear. Miss Laurie Winslow. Miss Laurie, Running Bear is a great Sioux war chief.”

Running Bear stared at Laurie out of flat black eyes, then said something in his own language. The braves around him laughed and Laurie’s face burned. She had been a great friend of Luis Montoya, her father’s best scout, and he had taught her a great deal of the Sioux language. Running Bear had made a crude joke about her, and without thinking, she responded in his own language, “Does a great chief of the Sioux speak so to a helpless woman?”

Her words fell like a blow on the Indians, and Running Bear’s eyes opened wide with astonishment. He studied Laurie, then said, “The white woman is wise in the ways of the Sioux. How do you come to speak the language of the People?”

Colonel Cody stood staring at Laurie while she explained, his eyes filled with admiration. He himself knew only a few words of the Sioux language, and when Laurie finished, he said, “Now, Miss Laurie, that is
something!
Speak it like one of their own!” He took her arm again and led her to the cook tent, where he sat her at the table, piled her plate high, and told everyone how she’d handled Running Bear.

“What did the varmint say, Miss Laurie?” Johnny Baker demanded. He was a wiry young man barely twenty, and he had the palest blue eyes Laurie had ever seen.

“Something no gentleman would say to a lady,” Laurie smiled. “I’m sure
you
would never say such a thing!”

“Don’t you believe it,” Cody laughed. “He’s a real ladies’ man, Johnny is.” At that moment he caught a smile on Laurie’s face as she looked at him, which made him falter. “Well, now, about that fine horse of yours, ever race him?”

“Oh yes,” Laurie nodded. “He’s pretty fast.”

“How about a race?” Cody asked instantly.

“I’m not much for betting.”

“Why, no, Miss Laurie,” Cody protested. “Just for the fun of it.”

Laurie allowed herself to be persuaded, and after the meal, the cowboys all followed Cody and Laurie. The Sioux came also, and Running Bear asked in his own language, “Can your horse win?”

“Bet on him!” Laurie said confidently, and the Indians at once began making bets with the cowboys.

Cody mounted his gray horse and winked at Laurie. “I like to be courteous to women, Miss Laurie, but when I race a hoss, I just plumb have to win!”

“Do your best, Mr. Cody, but I might make you one little wager.”

Cody beamed at her. “How much?”

“Not money. If you win, you can take me to dinner with you after the show.”

“That will be my pleasure!” Cody beamed.

“But if
I
win,” Laurie went on, “I want you to think seriously about a request. I don’t ask for a promise, just that you’ll listen carefully.”

“Done!” Cody agreed. “We’ll race to those trees over there and back again. Johnny, give the signal—”

The two riders sat their horses, and when Johnny yelled,
“Go!”
they both took off at the same moment. Both horses
were fast, but Cody’s was somewhat stronger. He led as they reached the trees, and on the return, with the crowd yelling, Cody led by two lengths. When they were a hundred feet away from the finish line, Laurie screamed and threw herself backward. Her cry reached Cody, as did the sudden yells of the cowboys, and when he turned and saw the girl thrown backward, her head only inches away from the razor-sharp edges of Star’s hooves, he drew up his big stallion, turning him to make a grab for Star’s reins.

As soon as Laurie saw Cody stop and turn his horse, she pulled herself back into the saddle by the strap, dug her heels into Star’s sides, and the astonished Cody watched her cross the finish line and turn to wave at him.

A loud cheer went up from the cowboys, and the Sioux were babbling with delight. Cody’s face turned red—and then he threw his head back and roared with laughter. He spurred his big gray forward and put his hand out. “You win,” he smiled. He looked around and saw the Indians collecting their bets. “You fellows got took as bad as I did.” Then he turned to face Laurie. “I never was a welcher, Miss Laurie, but I sure would like to take you to supper after the show. Now, what is it you want me to think about?”

Laurie stared at the showman and said as firmly as she could, “I want to go with the show as a trick rider.”

Cody was a hard man to surprise, but shock ran over his tanned face when he heard her request. His mouth opened, but he couldn’t seem to find anything to say. Finally he shook his head and said, “Well, by gum—I’ll do it!” Admiration shaded his glance, and he smiled, a handsome man, well aware of his success with women. “If you can do a few more tricks like that last one, I’ll make a star of you, Laurie Winslow!”

At once she said, “I won’t argue about salary, but this will be a
business
agreement and nothing more.”

Cody’s face fell, for her meaning was unmistakable. But he needed a novel act such as this. Some of his men were fine trick riders—but none were as pretty as this one. She had the
nerve and the looks—and he regretfully put other ideas out of his head. He was a showman, this man, and yet he knew when to fold his cards.

“Why, of course!” he said, allowing shock to tinge his voice. “The daughter of my old friend, Captain Tom Winslow? I’ll look after you just as though you were my own daughter!” He caught her slight smile but ignored it. “Come now, we’ll go over the terms. This will be acceptable with your father, I take it? I can’t have you if he doesn’t agree.”

“He will agree, Mr. Cody,” she assured him.

“Fine! But you do understand, these men of mine are the finest in the world, but they’re a little rough. Their language—things like that.”

“Their language is probably as refined as the troopers in my father’s command, and I got along fine with them.”

Laurie was happy at this sudden change of events, more so than she’d ever hoped, and her eyes shone with excitement.
I don’t have to go home!
she thought. And then she remembered the words of her friend Mac McGonigal:
He’ll give you the desires of your heart.

****

Late that night, McGonigal was rudely awakened by a pounding on the door. Throwing the cover back, he stumbled across the room, stubbing his toe on a box, and then throwing the lock, shouted, “Who’s there?”

McGonigal was driven backward as Laurie Winslow came through the door like a small whirlwind. She was babbling something as the door slammed back, leaving Mac standing there in an agony of embarrassment. “Will ye get out of here and let a man get his pants on?” he demanded.

“Oh, forget your pants!” Laurie laughed, but she turned her back while he hastily lit a lamp and found a pair of pants to put on. Whirling around again, the words spilled out of her as she related her adventure. “And I’m leaving with the
Wild West Show Saturday, Mac! Isn’t it wonderful—and it’s the desire of my heart, just like you said! The Lord’s done it!”