A Love That Traveled But Never Died

Swinging saloon doors opened wide. A man walked in and peers around the room. He shot a few whistles at brothel girls sitting on men’s laps. Can-can girls were dancing for money up on the bars as well as maiden wenches shadowing dark figures in the brightly lit windows. Smoke filled the air as menfolk sat, puffing on their cigars. There in the background sounded loud honky-tonk playing broken notes. Drunken fellows were rowdy while betting to win an intense hand at poker. A few momentarily paused and nodded at the cowboy directing their way.

“What can I getcha?”

“Give me a stiff one, barkeep.”

“Dead shot.”

“One dynamite.”

The cowboy spilled out the bartender and himself a shot. As the night unfolded, the liquor in the bottle leveled out far from the rim. “I have bragging rights to show and tell tall tales you never heard, barkeep!”

“This here duo of ears bask in the sound of babble night in and night out, Mr. Thomas. I will say though that you most cer- tainly catch my curiosity every time. Another shot of whisky, straight shooter?”

The cowboy was suddenly caressed from behind.

“Inviting, ain’t we? We come across fine-looking and strong cowboys every now and then, but none with such high prestige as you. Would you like to stay the night? My girls are just as happy toplease you as you are them. I know what you want. You want some of big momma!”

As the lead wench began to shake her breast toward the young cowboy’s face, she watched closely while underneath that wide brimmed hat of his, those smoky eyes of steel peered away. Gregory then nodded up toward the staircase at a rather beautiful woman.

“You have an eye for our newest cat.” “What’s that gal’s name?”

“Violet, I believe.”

“She’s a pretty lady.”

The prostitution boss leaned across the bar and touched the man. He swiveled around, meeting face-to-face with the haggard wench. She rubbed her hand up his triceps and over his chest. Lightly caressing his masculine face, she began to lean in to kiss his full lips. The cowboy turned a cheek toward the banister, which led his eyes up the stairs, where once stood the sensuous woman. Right then lay a wet bow-shaped ruby-red lipstick print on the esteemed man’s rug- ged, whiskered mug. Quite aware that he handpicked a whore for the night, she made a quick barter with the man. Another whore with a caked-on face walked up to the cowboy. He was swarmed and smoth- ered by the prostitution boss, yet this one made room and squeezed between the two. She fancied her way onto the cowboys lap. She grinned with her tobacco-filled lips all puckered and swollen. As she laughed in his face, he could smell the reeking booze emanating off her breath.

“You sure are cutting a swell with the ladies, Gregory. Do you need some assistance?”

“No, I can handle it, lady boss. Two bits for the night?”

“Two bits ... well, I ain’t gonna complain now, am I?”

“Two bits it is.”

She snapped her fingers, and a clumsy young boy shows his visage. He had an Adam’s apple truly as big as the fruit it was named after. It moved sharply with the stuttering of his speaking.

“Benji, quit jabbering, you fool, and get this man’s personal belongings and carry them up to his usual room. Make it snappy!”

“Really, ma’am, I think I’d be mighty content having possession of my own stuff. My property ain’t being touched by your there, sticky-fingers kid.”

“Benji will gladly show you up to your room.”

Gregory went up the backstairs that followed into an old hall. Women were waiting by their rooms. Some were leaving their door open for gawking.

“All right, here we are. This one’s a bit shy. She ain’t one for speaking up when she’s spoken to. Get it, girl? We want business around here. Now get to working up a sweat.”

The prestigious man lingered around the front door and then finally leaned over the kid and grabbed his collar with his fist.

“Eh, kid! That will do it there. Now get!”

After giving the tomfool saloon steward a big slam on the face and a lock of the door, this cowboy named Gregory was quick to take his layers of clothing off. He went about telling her that there was nothing to fear, how he was just a passerby and would be on his way by the crack of dawn.

“Come on, pretty lady. Don’t you know how to peel a man’s boots off?”

“I will plunk it to you like this...Well, I am not putting out for no man!”

“Seems that way.” He chuckled. “Pass me that there whiskey malt.”

“I must explain. My family was burned in a fire along with all of my possessions, and I would go to a gospel mill, but they have not a church in this town. I’m hard up on money to get out of here. There isn’t any way you could help me, mister, is there?”

“I really wasn’t expecting to hear that. I don’t have much to say. I’m hoping to make it to the nearest town by sundown on saddle back.”

“I’ll give you anything—anything you want. Anywhere you can take me, please?”

“I don’t have much to say. Sorry about your luck.”

“As far away as I can get from here, please?” She sniffled.

“I only have rations for one, but suppose I can get a few extra supplies. What am I to gain? Ain’t there anything for me in return?” “Well, I’d have to be reassured you will not leave without me, and your night will be pleasurable.”

“I’m tired now, but that bath looks mighty alluring...” Tipping his chin down toward his lap, he slowly nodded off into a deep sleep.

“You damn buffoon, I outta shake you dry. You’re gonna get what you deserve, you son of a bitch.”

Night turned into dawn, and somehow the sneaky young wench got ahold of the man’s belongings and took him for all he was fleet- ingly worth. He then awoke to a vacant room. A bit dizzy and foggy headed, he was hungover to say the least. Getting up, he walked him- self over to the corner of the room. Peering into the mirror, he began to clean up. In a rough voice, he uttered out a few solemn words.

“Damn wench. I have a mind to hunt her down.”

As the sky began to scatter rain, Gregory put on his trousers and poncho. While watching out the window as his horse began to stir below the deck, a woman’s cry sheared through the air.

“Help me!”

“I know yer kind, you thieving slutty whore!”

Wenches were standing up on the balcony, fanning their painted faces. The fainted woman screamed while being drabbled in the wet mud. The lady boss of the saloon cuffed her hand over the lead wench’s ear, confessing what went on that night.

“I heard through the rumor mill she tried to negotiate with that fine cowboy, Mr. Thomas. Why on earth would she ever get tangled up with a man of such high prestige? What was she thinking, trying to steal from a man’s trousers? We pay enough around here.”

From there, it was a chain reaction, and the women, in a row, one by one leaned in and under each ones breaths, exaggeratingly whispering lavishly what they just heard.

“What do you have to say for yourself, you ragged whore? Huh? Speak up when a man’s talking to you!”

“Please stop! I apologize, Benji, for all I have gone and done. I never meant to do it. Please let me go.”

Clear up on the second floor of the saloon stood the esteemed cowboy in disbelief and utter shock. Gregory went through both his trousers and his coat pockets. Nothing. No sign of money in his yan- nigan bag either. The cowboy sized up the pathetic woman he got pocketed by. He’d seen the kid walk toward the saloon and slowly enter the doors down below the deck. Looking through the cracks of the plank boards, he eyed the men grinning toward the young woman who was being patronized while pinned in the stockade.

“Damn wench ...”

An unexpected knock startled him a bit. He swiftly opened the door to see.

“Gregory, I knew you would take notice so soon. She raped you out of quite a bit.”

“It is Mr. Thomas to you. Well then, I expect to receive my belongings back.”

“The watch and hard money she shook ya out of are all in tack. Bet ya were missing them. You headed out of here? Allow me to lend a hand.”

“All right, I’ll follow you out in a few and get them keys out to leave on the desk over there.”

Peering thru the open window, he could see her in plain site with chains about her wrists. Briskly shutting the door, he followed the bellboy downstairs. Outside he began to load up his horse. He couldn’t help but keep his eyes on her. He then meandered toward the platform and reached for the ladle in the water bucket and emp- tied it above her head.

“Please, mister, I am so sorry. How I am ever so sorry. Will you get me out of this god awful mess?”

Gregory crotched down and looked into her dirtied porcelain face.

“Ma’am, why’d ya go on and do it in the first place?”

“I didn’t trust you. I needed the money ever so badly.”

Gregory unshackled her with the set of keys.

As a crowed formed around the town square, the statures man spoke aloud.

“Quit your ogling! We’ll be on our way!”

The cowboy then cradled the shook up woman toward his chest and walked her in his arms to his horse.

“All right...come on. Can you trust in me, or am I as bad as I may seem?”

“No, I trust you.”

After the fandango, both unfamiliar persons galloped away on horseback, fated to get a head start to the nearest town. Gregory was set on arriving there by the next day. Silence bit the time, but soon the man couldn’t take it much longer and barked out a few words that startled the half-awakened young woman.

“Are you comfortable? You sure don’t speak much.”

“Not up for much tête-à-tête. I prefer to just keep to myself. I’m quite embarrassed at the moment.”

“All right ... well, you can at least lend me an ear or two.”

“Yes, mister?”

“I know these deserts like the back of my hand. Once we reach the mountain range, I’m going to negotiate some trading. How we doing back there?”

“Yes, mister. I’m mighty fine since you’ve come to my rescue.”

“Well, I ain’t going to lie. I could never say no to lady with them pretty eyes.”

“You are not so bad looking yourself.”

“Well,” he spat, “like I was saying, once I do some trading, we’ll be on our way to my brother’s cabin. He’s a cattle baron. My sister, now she’s a cattle-kate. It’ll be a place where we can wash up and rest. Are you hungry?”

The cowboy jumped down from his horse and led the lady down off his back saddle.

“Do help yourself to the supplies. I’ll get you a fire started in a few.”

As he reached into the saddlebags, his horse began to buck. Slowly it sustained a steadiness. While calmly patting the beast of the horse, he whispered at it.

“This here horse I’ve gone and named Robe. She’s gentle. Don’t be frightened one bit. Go on now and help yourself to the supplies.”

“Need a cup of Arbuckle’s?”

“Yes, ma’am, coffee and chew will keep me mighty content. It’s awfully chilly, ain’t it?”

As he touched the young woman on the back of her neck, she jumped. He then wrapped a heavy blanket around her before he knelt with her by the fire.

“I just figured you’d like to warm up a bit. This rain here ain’t gonna let up.”

“Oh no, you just startled me. Coffee’s on.”

“Don’t mind if I help myself.”

“Good?”

“Mighty good chuck, ma’am. Yep, there’s nothing better for a man’s soul then being outside on a horse. Only out on the range can you find yourself. I ride through this neck of land quite often. I grew up here. What’s your real name? And did you really have family, or was that a farce?”

“What do you think? I’m just some tramp who told you what you wanted to hear so I could get my own way.”

“I’m assuming you made it up.”

“Not all. My story was true. As a matter a fact, I did lose my family, but I never was sent to the city to teach. Mail-order bride is what you could have called me. Apparently, the man was a no show when arriving off the train. Didn’t quite understand why. Did take it harshly. Then had no choice but to work in that tavern there as a wag-tail. This all happened a few weeks ago. Suppose I have you. Thank God.”

While poking at the fire with a long stick, he eyed the young woman and began to mumble at her.

“Well, what if I told you I was late picking you up? The nick- name’s Chester, but my full name’s Gregory Thomas.”

“Oh my. I am a little bewildered right at the moment. If you just give me a few.”

Looking at him face-to-face, Violet whacked the man across his left side.

“God damn, woman! Never slap a man if he’s chewing tobacco!”

She was appalled. Maybe thinking there was some misunder- standing, she let him babble on.

“Ain’t no way I was ever going to let a pretty lady like you stay in that there shit whole. I’m from Montana, and that’s where we’re eventually going to land. They call it sky country for a reason. Yep, sky’s the limit. I’ve been dreaming about it near all my life.”

“You mean you knew and kept this from me?”

“Yep, real beautiful there. You okay now?”

“This is quite uncomfortable for me, this entire situation. I have been through such anguish. I even lost my belongings, and for me to have to steep so low as to steel and almost sell my body...”

“Well...”

“You act like it is not a big deal, Mr. Thomas.”

“We can turn back.”

“I suppose I have no choice but to keep on moving.”

With all that profuse tension, both still agreed to continue to cut through the stark region. Time bit by real slow. “You still upset?”

“I’m confused. Where are we going, and are you what you said you were in the letters? You professed many a things. I just hope you stand true to your words.”

“Here near on you’ll be well to live.”

“You mean by building us a home as you said in the letter?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“At last.” She yawned. “All I desired was my one prayer to be answered. I was so excited when I got off that train in hopes of meet- ing my future husband. Suppose I can’t stay too mad over you being a no show and all. I will tell you I’m a real diamond in the rough. I’ll be the best mail order bride you will ever set eyes on. Nope, won’t regret ordering me one bit.”

“White eyed, are you?”

“Yes. I’m a bit fagged out. I can’t help but be fatigued. I’m real beat.”

Gregory reached out his hands and touched hers and gazed into her eyes.

“Only grub slinger around here is me.”

“Then I’ll just roam on around here for a bit.”

“Supper’s started. Now don’t go too far.”

The woman strolled down toward the creek. She glanced back and noticed the cowboy smirking her way.

“You have a staring problem?”

“Pretty lady never drinks downstream from a horse. Come and get your fixings!”

“Oh my, Gregory. Really, you out did yourself.”

“These flats are mighty beautiful, ain’t they? I love the range, and the range loves me. Never asked for a living wage from no man. As good old Mark Twain once said, ‘Don’t go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first. Ain’t that right, pretty lady?”

“What do you do, and will you be supporting me finely?”

“I used to fox boots for a living. Ain’t nothing better than a nice gut warmer. Anyhow, I kept a living on the side.”

“I never heard anything about it.”

“Don’t get your back up. I was only joking. Ain’t forerunning you on. I am quite well to do, pretty lady. Many of these flats I own out here. Cattle baron is what you would call me. I’m a local busi- nessman and landowner about here. Got me an outsized ranch where we’re on our journey to.”

“Gregory, you are as full as a tick, and your stories are more lavish as the night unfolds. Why don’t we call it a night or at least keep quiet?”

“You’ll catch site of it yourself.”

“I will witness that when the time dries up.”

“Night, Miss Violet.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Thomas.”