Hart the Regulator 6 Page 4

Teresa, agitated by her mother’s voice and understanding enough of what was being said, began to cry. She ran from the table to her mother and grabbed at one of Emily’s arms.

  Emily hushed her and petted her.

  On his blanket, Henry stirred and pushed one of the arms of the doll against his mouth and was quiet again.

  ‘You had that done,’ Emily said. ‘Had Frank’s body sent back.’

  ‘I thought—’

  ‘Yes, it was kind. It was what he would have wanted. To lie here.’ ‘But you

  She shook her head. ‘Not now. I’ve seen Marquand from the bank. He rode out when he heard what had happened. He’s going to take charge of the sale, the crop, everything. What money’s left after paying off the mortgage and any other debts he’ll send after us.’ ‘You trust him?’

  She looked at him with eyes which said, I don’t trust anyone. Not anymore.

  ‘How ’bout your things?’ Hart looked round the room. ‘Some I’m listing to be sold. The rest are being freighted out.’

  ‘An’you?’

  Teresa looked up, no longer sobbing. ‘We’re going on a train.’ The excitement of it made wonder tremble a little in her voice.

  Emily smiled at her daughter. ‘We’re going to Topeka first. We change there onto the Kansas Pacific and that takes us to St Louis.’

  ‘Is it a long way?’ Teresa asked. ‘Yes, honey.’

  ‘Longer than going into town?’ Emily laughed. ‘Yes, Teresa, much longer.’ Hart thought how much better Emily looked when she smiled, the worry lines at her eyes replaced by laugh lines about her mouth.

  ‘I’ll ride with you,’ he said quickly, ‘as far as Topeka.’ She blinked at him. ‘You’re going on the train?’ ‘Well, I was travelin’ north. Train’s as good as any.’ She shook her head. ‘Why?’ Hart shrugged.

  ‘Why should you?’

  ‘Don’t know, I thought, travelin’ on your own, yourself an’ two kids—.’

  ‘You thought I could use a man.’

  He shrugged his shoulders again, feeling uncomfortable without being certain why.

  ‘Maybe if you’d thought of that sooner—’

  ‘There weren’t nothin’ I could do. Things had gone too far.’

  Emily breathed heavily and hung her head for an instant. ‘I know. I know. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t even your business.’

  That’s right, thought Hart, that’s right. But he just looked back at her and didn’t say anything.

  ‘If you’re sure you wouldn’t be going out of your way,’ said Emily tentatively.

  ‘I’m sure. I’m through here anyway.’

  ‘I heard about that rancher, that man Frank rode for when … I heard what happened to him. And Caleb Deignton. It all seemed so dreadful. Everyone trying to get things their own way no matter what it cost.’

  Hart nodded: that was the way it was.

  ‘All Frank wanted to do was bring up a family and grow wheat.’

  Hart saw the loss in her eyes, in the slump of her shoulders, the way life seemed to have been drained from her whole body. She stroked the girl’s head and pulled her closer until Teresa began to sob again, quietly, without clearly understanding why.

  The boy rolled over on his blanket, lost the rag doll from his grip, and woke up.

  ‘Maybe I could find that pot and make some coffee,’ Emily offered.

  Hart shook his head. ‘You got your hands full here. If there’s nothin’ I can do, I’ll ride back into town.’ The boy was crying now as well. ‘When’re you due to leave?’

  ‘Two days. I want to get away from here as soon as I can.’ ‘Okay. I’ll hire a rig of some kind in Caldwell, be better if we drive up to Wichita in that. We can always pay someone to take it back down. That’ll be the best way of getting your things to the train.’

  Thanks.’

  Emily brushed one hand along the flat surface of her hair and tried a smile. She freed herself from Teresa and went over and picked Henry up in her arms. He stopped crying almost at once. When she moved with him to the doorway and stood there, Teresa was back behind her skirt, clinging to her leg. The sun was still strong in the sky and Hart’s shadow was flat and dark on the dirt of the yard. On the fence post, the rooster flapped it wings and threw back its head in a noisy clamor.

  Hart spoke the gray’s name and she came slowly towards him, nuzzling the palm of his outstretched hand.

  ‘Two days,’ Hart said.

  Emily nodded, watched as he mounted up and rode away.

  Chapter Four

  The main street in Wichita was a good twenty-five yards wide. Frame and clapboard houses gave way to saloons, stores and hotels. Ever since the cattle trade had expanded through the coming of the rail tracks to meet the Texas trailherds, business had been booming. Even the lowering of the quarantine line hadn’t managed to drive trade back; once the entrepreneurs had established themselves it was going to take more than an occasional setback to shake them loose.

  Teresa looked out from between Hart and her mother, her head jerking this way and that, eyes wide with amazement.

  ‘Is this it? Is this where we’re going to live?’

  ‘No, you goose,’ said Emily, laughing. This is where we’re going to catch the train.’

  ‘The train?’

  ‘Yes, remember, the train is going to take us to St Louis. That’s where we’re going to live.’

  Then Where’s this?’

  This is Wichita.’ Emily shook her head and put on her look of mock exasperation and Hart grinned, too, and reined in the wagon to avoid another, laden with crates and barrels, that was maneuvering from one side of the street to the other.

  Men and women walked along both stretches of boardwalk, the women in pairs, talking and window-shopping, or else preoccupied with the children in their charge. Few folk bothered to turn their heads and take notice of yet another group of strangers who were coming into town. Wichita had got well used to that.

  ‘Look! Look!’ shrieked Teresa, trying to stand up on the wagon seat, her small hand pointing.

  Outside one of the stores the figure of an outsize wooden Indian stood holding a huge cigar in one hand and a placard in the other which advertised the best smokes and tobacco in Kansas.

  ‘Is he real? Will he hurt us? Why doesn’t he move?’

  Teresa, hush.’ But Emily was smiling, enjoying her daughter’s obvious excitement.

  ‘Can we stop and see him? Can we? Can we?’

  ‘You can see him from here.’

  ‘But not properly. I want to see him close. Please!’

  Emily glanced across at Hart, who was already bringing the two horses to a halt.

  ‘Off you go then. Be careful.’

  Emily lifted the girl over and down and watched as she ran between two men, ducked between two horses at the hitching rail and scrambled up on to the boards and towards the wooden Indian. Teresa came to a halt just short of arm’s length, staring up at the painted chest and face, the elaborate mock-feathered headdress.

  Teresa reached out a hand gingerly towards the Indian and shuffled closer, inch by inch by inch. Suddenly she plunged her fingers against the painted surface and turned away with a shriek, scuttling back to the wagon.

  Emily hauled her back aboard and smiled at the excitement and fear in the girl’s face.

  Hart released the brake alongside him and set the horses in motion. They travelled more or less the length of the main street, Emily and Teresa especially looking all about them. At first there seemed to be more places to eat and drink than anything else: Last Chance Saloon, Mary O’Malley’s Eating House, Five Aces, the Kansas Star Hotel, The Cattlemen’s House, Ma’s Dining Rooms, Li Fo’s Prime Eating Room, the Wichita Glory.

  As they looked, the stores were there too, each one advertising its wares in some fashion - signs fixed to the balconies that ran over the boardwalk from the upper floor; painted flags which flapped from poles; slogans painted on walls and on windows; placards set out by the side of the st
reet; even a real Indian who walked up and down, shamefaced, a sandwich board on his back which advertised herbal remedies and softening cough syrup.

  Wichita Barber Shop: Hancock & Harding, Proprietors

  Shave, Haircut, Shampoo

  Baths out back

  Dental Surgery by arrangement

  Moses Wine

  Purveyors of Wines, Liquors & Cigars

  Cattlemen’s discount

  Boots and Shoes from stock or made to fit Only the best leather and materials used

  Miller, McCabe & Altman dealers in Fine Arms & Ammunition local agents for Colts Pat. Fire Arms Co., New Haven, Connecticut and Smith & Wesson Co., Springfield, Mass. Ballard & Martin and Winchester shells

  Robin Gregory & Co.

  General Merchandise

  Specialists in Farming Implements, Lumber & Stoves

  Manufacturers of Kansas Silver Sheep Dip -

  the best cure for Scab known, destroys Vermin, increases

  Wool yield: guaranteed non-poisonous

  ‘Can we buy something?’ asked Teresa excitedly. ‘Some candy? A candy bar? Can we?’

  Hart glanced across at Emily. ‘There’s time. Plenty.’

  ‘AH right, only—’ She looked round into the back of the wagon to where the boy was wedged between a trunk and a canvas bag, sucking his thumb, sleeping. ‘I don’t want to wake Henry and I can’t leave him. Can she go with you?’

  Teresa heard and looked doubtful.

  ‘Sure. Come on, little lady. Let’s go.’

  Hart jumped down and wrapped the trace lines round a section of hitching post. He put up his arms and Teresa hesitated until her mother gave her a gentle push and she let herself drop into them. Hart whirled her round and set her down on the boardwalk. Teresa reached up for his hand and he took it and walked into the nearest store.

  There were counters at both sides, the wood stained dark brown and polished; glass-fronted cases were arranged along the counters with brass handles set into the front of them so that customers could lift them up and take out whatever they wanted.

  A cash register and a pair of brass scales stood side by side at the center of each counter. Down the middle of the store two trestle tables held goods in boxes and tins, all arranged so that folk could walk around them and see clearly what was there. Behind the left-hand counter were shelves of patent medicines and remedies, jars of herbs and bottles of embrocation for humans and horses.

  Towards the far end of the room, past the tables, was a large black stove, its sectioned chimney pushing up through a hole in the roof. Two men sat on either side of the stove, one bearded and sleeping, the other clean-shaven and shuffling through what appeared to be a new deck of cards.

  Three women wearing long coats, one trimmed with fur at the front and around the neck, were examining samples of white lace. A boy of fourteen or fifteen was kicking his heels and showing his impatience at his mother’s tardiness.

  The storekeeper stood behind the right-hand cash register, polishing a glass jar with a piece of soft yellow cloth. A woman who might have been his wife was opposite him, arranging linen inside one of the cases.

  Hart was impressed by the size of the store and its stock; Teresa even more so. She jumped up and down and pulled on Hart’s hand and cooed and laughed and pointed until Hart was feeling decidedly awkward and wished Emily would come in and take over.

  He glanced round towards the door, but there was no sign of her. ‘Can I have a candy bar now?’

  Hart nodded and asked the storeman for a candy bar. The man pointed towards one of the glass cases further down the counter and Hart lifted Teresa up so that she could see what was there. Her wide eyes widened further and she wriggled with delight inside his hands.

  One of the three women buying lace called over the storekeeper’s wife. The boy banged against the polished wood of the counter with the heel of his boot and got shouted out by his mother and the storekeeper at the same time. ‘Which one d’you want, honey?’ Hart asked. Teresa shook her head and continued to stare, a finger moving along the outside of the glass case as her eyes shifted from one candy bar to the next.

  The door pushed open and Hart turned his head, thinking it might be Emily with Henry in her arms, but instead it was a man with a brown Stetson pushed well back on his head, a cigarette drooping from the corner of his mouth and a .45 holstered below his right hip.

  Hart tightened his grip on the girl so that she squealed and kicked and banged her small fist against the top of the glass case.

  ‘You’re hurting me!’

  Eyes on the man who’d just entered, Hart loosened his hold, apologized, said: ‘Hurry and make up your mind now.’

  ‘But it’s difficult and you—.’

  ‘Come on now, Teresa. We got to hurry. Your ma’s waitin’.’

  He said the words automatically, not thinking, his mind racing back through a hundred frontier bars, a few dozen barely lit streets, a cluster of bordellos and cathouses between Wichita and El Paso, between Virginia City and San Antonio.

  The man passed behind Hart just as Teresa at last made her choice and hastily Hart set the child down and asked the storekeeper for what she wanted.

  Hart took a five-cent piece from among the coins in his pocket and set it down on the counter. Teresa took her candy bar from the store-keeper’s hand. The man who’d just come in called down the shop for a box of .45 cartridges and tapped his fingers impatiently on the counter top.

  Hart’s mind was still chasing, though even if he thought he knew the man, there was no sign that he’d been recognized himself. Still the thought, the doubt ticked at the back of his mind as he caught hold of Teresa’s hand and pulled her towards the door.

  Closing it, he looked back inside and saw that the man in the Stetson was looking directly at him, leaning with one elbow against the counter, staring out.

  Teresa pulled away from him and ran across the boardwalk, clamoring for Emily. Her mother was sitting with Henry held in her hands, bouncing him on her knee and chattering to him as dribble ran down his chin.

  The little girl showed her mother the candy and then frowned. ‘He hurt me.’

  ‘Who did?’

  She pouted and pointed at Hart.

  ‘Don’t be silly. Of course he didn’t.’

  ‘He did. He grabbed at me and squeezed me so hard it hurt my tummy.’

  Emily laughed and then frowned. ‘What happened?’ she asked Hart as he untied the wagon.

  Hart gave another glance towards the store, but the man had still to emerge. He shook his head. ‘Nothin’.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Nothin’.’

  Hart climbed up into the driving seat and got the horses moving, wheeling them around and heading back towards the station, the gray tied on behind.

  ‘Best we make sure ’bout the train,’ said Hart. ‘If you can get the tickets after I’ve dropped you off, I’ll take this wagon to a stable an’ pay for it to be driven back to Caldwell. Get that animal of mine taken care of.’

  ‘I thought you’d be taking her with you.’ Hart shook his head. ‘No need. She’ll get watered an’ fed here. I shan’t be gone long.’

  Emily looked at him doubtfully. ‘You’re sure you’re not making this journey just on account of us?’

  ‘Uh-uh.’

  ‘Because if you are—’

  ‘I told you. I got business in Topeka. The railroad’s got a main office there and rumor is they’re lookin’ for men.’

  Surprise showed on Emily’s face. ‘But you don’t want to be a railroad man.’

  ‘They want men to ride the trains. Guards, sort of. Protect the passengers an’ freight.’

  ‘I see.’ She turned her head away and looked across the street.

  ‘What’re you angry for?’

  ‘I’m not angry.’ Henry wriggled against her and Teresa glanced up from her candy bar.

  ‘Sure sound it.’

  Emily shook her head and her tongue showed for a moment b
etween her lips. ‘I just might have known it was a job where you could use that gun of yours, that’s all.’

  ‘What d’you expect me to do? Shovel wood into the boiler?’

  Emily’s eyes blazed. ‘What do I expect? I don’t expect a thing. Not from you. Not now and not ever!’

  ‘Take it easy.’

  ‘And don’t tell me to take it easy!’

  She swung her head back front again and Hart bit back his words. He’d known women who were more beautiful when they were angry, but not Emily. Her eyes were cold and narrow and the set of her face was mean, almost ugly. He flicked out the reins and moved the wagon along towards the station more quickly.

  A sizeable crowd had already gathered outside the station house and along both sides of the track. There was no platform of any kind, the tracks simply ran along at right angles to the main street and kids chased one another across them, leaping from one iron rail to another, from one sleeper to the one three or four places down. An angry Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe official shouted at them and chased them off and a few moments later they were doing the same things again just a little way along.

  Carriages and wagons had driven into the station, some depositing passengers and goods, others waiting to pick them up. A straggly line had formed in front of the ticket window and Hart returned from the livery stable to find that Emily was only just coming away with their tickets.

  ‘The train’s late,’ she told him. ‘The man said we’ve at least half an hour to wait.’

  Hart looked past her to the other end of the two-story station building. ‘We could get somethin’ to eat,’ he said. ‘It’s been more’n a while.’

  Emily looked doubtful, but Hart took her by the arm and turned her round, leading her and the children - Henry in Emily’s arms - towards the sign that read: Harvey House Dining Hall.

  A man wearing a uniform cap and jacket with the Harvey House initials emblazoned clearly on both of them smiled and opened the door and then pushed out his arm between Emily and Hart.

  ‘Gentlemen have to be wearin’ a jacket, sir, if you don’t mind.’

  Hart stared at him, disbelieving.

  ‘It’s a rule of the house.’