Winter Woman, page 8
"Watch out!" Jacob shouted. He grabbed Renne who was in the lead and yanked him backward.
Ten
Maude stopped the buggy on top of the hill close above the Missouri River and pointed west across the wide stream. "That is the way we will soon be traveling," she said.
Cora looked at the south-flowing river, and beyond it to the flat Nebraska plain that seemed to stretch away endlessly under the brilliant blue dome of the sky. She sensed the empty vastness of the land, so unlike the rolling farming country they had traveled through for many days.
Cora and Maude were drawing near St. Joseph. They had come hundreds of miles with the horse trotting and the buggy riding easily on its metal leaf springs. Four days after leaving New Orleans, they had reached Baton Rouge. They found the town overflowing with refugees from plague-ridden New Orleans. Every hotel and boardinghouse was filled. They had left immediately, striking out for St. Louis, a large city thriving from river trade and the rich farmland surrounding it.
As they journeyed north through the pleasant green countryside, they slept and ate at the inns located at the relay stations of the stagecoach lines, or at smaller hotels in the town. They had sufficient money to last for several months if they were thrifty, and for the first time in their lives, they were free to go and do as they pleased. Maude seemed to have no fear that harm would come to them traveling by themselves. Cora knew this was due to the successful defense against the robbers in New Orleans. However, she remembered how helpless she had been in the struggle with the attackers. Also, the blows she had received from the man had hurt much worse than she had let on to Maude. She never again wanted to depend on another person for protection. At a gun store in the village of Memphis, Cora bought a pocket pistol, a Colt 28-caliber revolver. Though it was a small weapon, at a close range it would be quite deadly.
As they approached St. Louis, they read in a newspaper of a large, new gold discovery in the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California. Cora told Maude that she felt they might have the Midas touch and would find a golden hoard in that distant land. Little discussion was required for both young women to decide to continue on to far-off California. So they had turned west at St. Louis and continued along the Missouri River toward St. Joseph, the staging point for the wagon trains going to California.
They entered St. Joe with their horse pulling the buggy along very briskly. Cora looked at the people and the large numbers of vehicles moving along the street. A lively town, she thought.
As the buggy came abreast of a group of horses tied in front of a fur and hide business, three men stepped out from behind the horses and into the path of the buggy. The buggy horse, frightened by the abrupt appearance of the men, reared and lunged to the side, whipping the shafts of the buggy sharply to the side. The buggy rocked up on two wheels.
Cora felt herself falling and grabbed at the metal frame of the buggy. But her hand slipped loose and she tumbled into the street. An instant later Maude landed with a thump beside her.
Cora looked up quickly. The buggy was directly above her, and falling.
A man suddenly appeared beside Cora. With amazing quickness, he reached out and caught hold of the falling buggy. He groaned, and his legs almost buckled as he stopped the descent of the heavy vehicle. Then he straightened and heaved powerfully upward on the buggy. With a thud and a jangle of metal, the buggy fell back onto its four wheels.
Cora scrambled to her feet and flung a look at her buggy horse. One of the men had caught the animal by the bridle and mane and was holding the frightened animal with great strength.
Jacob looked at the pretty girl who had climbed to her feet. She seemed unhurt and he was glad for that. He turned to the other woman and leaned down to offer his hand to help her up.
Maude knocked Jacob's hand away. She winced with pain as she climbed to her feet. She turned angrily on the trappers. "You damn bunch of fools, why did you scare my horse?" she shouted.
Jacob whipped off his hat. "I'm sorry we caused your horse to spook," he said. He understood the woman's anger. He would have felt the same way had he been dumped in the street. However, he was more interested in the pretty woman and fastened his eyes back on her.
He watched her brush the dirt of the street from her trousers and shirt. Then she turned and rested her eyes on him, and his heart began to beat a wild tattoo against his ribs. She was more than pretty, she was truly beautiful, the planes and curves of her face were delicately carved, and her widely spaced brown eyes were bright, pure crystals. The woman's eyes seemed familiar. He had a haunting feeling that he had looked into them before. But he couldn't pull the memory to life of where or when.
Cora continued to look at the man whose gray eyes were locked on her with an intensity she had never experienced before. His lean body was taut within his stained buckskin clothing. A pistol and a big knife were belted to his waist. His face, though not especially handsome, was striking. His long blond hair and beard were tangled, and his face was burnt a deep brown by sun and wind. She caught his odor, wood smoke and horses and sweat.
"Are you hurt?" Jacob asked. Belatedly he swung his view to include Maude.
Before Cora could reply, Maude spoke sharply. "Because of your stupid action we could have been badly hurt."
"I'm not hurt," Cora said.
"I think your horse has settled down now," Glen said. He released his grip on the animal's head and stepped away.
"Get in, Cora, and let's go," Maude said. "I've had enough of these smelly men." She grimaced as she climbed back into the buggy. Without a word she took the reins Renne handed to her.
Cora stepped up into the vehicle and took a seat. Maude spoke to the horse and the buggy moved off.
Cora cast a glance back at the blond young man. He was standing motionless and staring after her with a quizzical expression.
"Don't look at those dirty trappers," Maude admonished Cora.
Cora laughed. "If that younger one had a bath and a shave, he might be presentable," she said. And maybe not so wild-looking either, she thought.
Glen moved to stand beside Jacob. "What are you thinking?" he asked.
"I feel like I've seen that pretty one before, but yet at the same time maybe not. Have you ever seen her?"
"Can't say that I have," Glen said.
"How about you, Renne?" Jacob asked.
"There is something about her that looks a little familiar. But if I ever saw her before, it must have been some time ago."
"Maybe it'll come to you later," Glen said.
They crossed the street and entered Garveen's Saloon. The room had a long bar, high ceilings, and was deep, stretching back into shadows. They took seats at a table.
"Three beers," Jacob called to the bartender.
Glen divided the money he had received for the furs into three equal piles. He passed one to Jacob and another to Renne. "There you are. Everything share and share alike."
The bartender brought the beers. Jacob paid for the drinks.
He raised his mug of beer to his friends. "Here's to being back in St. Joe with our pockets full of money."
The three men grinned at each other and clanked their mugs together.
Jacob took a long pull at his beer. The cool, tangy liquid tickled his tongue, and slid smoothly down his throat. He took a breath. "Ah, damn delicious after doing without for six months," he said.
Glen set his mug down and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Now about Shattuck, did you fellows see his face when he saw us?"
"He seemed damned surprised," Renne said.
"More than surprised," Jacob said. "He acted like a man who expected us to jump him. I thought he was going to grab his pistol and start shooting."
"How did Shattuck get Tom Branham's furs?" Glen said.
"Maybe he buys stolen furs," Renne said.
"Even if he does, that doesn't explain how he acted when he saw us," Jacob said.
"No, it doesn't," Glen said and pulled at his beard. "I think it best that we watch out for Shattuck. Whatever was bothering him at first may now be worse, for we know he has Branham's furs."
"If we run into Branham here in St. Joe, we should tell him about his furs being at Shattuck's," Jacob said. He finished his beer and thumped the mug down on the table. "I'll see you fellows later. It's time for me to get a shave and haircut, and get out of these dirty buckskins."
"After you see the town for a few days, we'll get together and plan for next trapping season," Glen said.
* * *
Jacob went to a barber shop for a haircut and shave, and then registered at the three-story, one-hundred-ten-room hotel called the Patte House, He retrieved his large leather-and-wood trunk from the hotel storage. Kneeling in the lobby in his dirty buckskin, he dug a dark gray suit and hat from the trunk. He handed the clothing to one of the young bellhops.
"Take this suit and get it pressed, and have the dents taken out of the hat." He flipped a silver half-dollar at the bellhop.
The bellhop expertly caught the coin. Then he caught the silver half-dollar that followed.
"That four bits is for the presser," Jacob said. "Wait for him to finish, then bring everything back to me by the time I take a bath."
"Yes, sir," said the bellhop. Clutching the clothing, he trotted away.
Jacob turned to the second bellhop. "Bring one of those portable bathtubs up to my room. Fill it with five full buckets of hot water." He tipped the boy a quarter.
Jacob closed and latched the trunk. Hoisting it to his shoulder, he went across the lobby and up the stairs to his room.
* * *
Jacob scrubbed himself with soap in the large tub of warm water. He felt naked now, with his hair cut short and his beard gone. But that would pass. Finally feeling clean, he lay soaking, savoring his indulgence in the luxury of the hotel, and the pleasant evening that was coming.
Jacob climbed from the water and dried himself. He dressed in the freshly pressed suit. He took a shiny pair of boots from the trunk and pulled them on. He buckled his pistol around his waist under his coat. The hat was set rakishly on his head.
He returned to the lobby of the hotel. "Go get the bathtub out of my room," he told the bellhop. "And take the buckskins and have them cleaned." He tossed him a four-bit piece.
"Yes, sir," said the bellhop.
Jacob went out to the sidewalk. The day had ended while he bathed, and dusk was flowing in from the east to fill the streets. It was going to be a grand night. He stretched his arms out to the side, raised his head, and laughed.
He patted his billfold. He had deposited most of his money in the bank. What he carried was for spending. He walked off along the street, smiling in anticipation of the pleasures to come.
As he strolled along, he returned the greeting of two men he knew. One of the pretty young women from the River Palace Steamboat, a traveling brothel, winked at him as she walked by. In the next block, he passed a bakery and the smell of baking bread sent his hunger surging.
Then his hunger was forgotten, for coming along the sidewalk was the girl he and his friends had caused to fall from the buggy. She appeared more feminine now, for instead of the man's clothing she wore earlier in the day, she was now garbed in a dress of a golden color that set off her young woman's body and long auburn hair. She walked with a free swinging stride and a half smile was on her lovely face. Jacob felt his gambler's instinct rise and he decided to take a wild chance.
He whipped off his hat and stepped into the girl's path.
Eleven
Cora halted abruptly as a tall man stepped into her path along the sidewalk. She quickly looked into the face of the stranger to determine if he was a threat to her. Her heart was beating swiftly, for she remembered all too well the attack upon Maude and her in New Orleans.
The man was young, and was holding his hat in his hand and smiling boyishly at her. His face was oddly two-toned. Where a beard had been recently removed, and above the hat line, the skin was very fair, while a band across the middle part of his face was a weather-burnt brown. He almost seemed to be wearing a mask.
He ran his hand over the front of his suit coat. "I clean up pretty good, don't you think?" he said.
Cora dropped her view from the man's face down the nicely tailored suit to his polished boots. She looked back into his eyes. "It's you," she said in astonishment, recognizing the young trapper from the episode with the buggy. He had indeed cleaned up very handsomely.
"A barber, a bath, and town clothes did it," Jacob said with a laugh. He was enjoying talking with the girl and watching her pretty face. "My name's Jacob Morgan. What's yours?"
Cora considered whether or not to reply to the question. He seemed to be a pleasant sort, and he had kept the buggy from falling on her. She decided there could be no harm in telling him. "I'm Cora Dubois."
"I'm glad to meet you, Cora. I saw luggage tied to the rear of your buggy. From that I take it you're not from St. Joe."
"My sister and I are from New Orleans."
"I've been to New Orleans several times. I always found it a lively town."
"You wouldn't want to go there now. It has a terrible yellow fever epidemic. That's why we left"
"I was there one time during an epidemic. My boat docked for just a short time to unload our cargo and then we immediately shoved off. But mostly I had a grand time in New Orleans." It's a town with hundreds of pretty girls, he thought to himself. He recalled the special girl that he had fought for and couldn't forget. "The only time I didn't was when I had trouble with the River Rats Gang, but that was back when I was a boy."
Cora felt a sudden shock of remembrance of the frightening experience with the River Rats. If it hadn't been for the help of a brave boy, she would have been hurt, or worse. He had been blond-headed like this young man smiling down at her. She replayed the scene with the River Rats in her mind. Was it possible this was the boy, now grown to manhood? "I once saw a boy fight the Rats to help a girl they were bothering," she said.
Jacob felt a rush of blood through his body as the possible meaning of Cora's words registered. "Were you that girl? Did the boy tell you to run? Do you remember him saying that to you?"
"Yes, I remember those words! I am that girl."
"I know you are, for I see it now." Jacob's eyes traveled up .and down Cora. "Well, I'll be damned." He had found the girl whose face had haunted him for such a long time. She was even more beautiful now, grown to a young woman.
"I was worried that the Rats would kill you. When I found the two trappers just a short distance away, I told them what was happening. They said they would go and see if you needed help."
"That was Glen and Renne. They ran the Rats off."
"I came back to thank you, but you were leaving with the men. Now I wish to thank you, even if it is years too late." Cora held out her hand.
Jacob clasped Cora's offered hand. He pressed the small, warm hand, feeling the fine bones within their covering of soft girl's skin and flesh. After all these years and for the very first time, he was touching the girl from New Orleans. He must not let her escape from him.
"I accept your thanks." Jacob reluctantly released his hold on Cora's hand. He was ready to take another gamble. "Now that we are old friends, would you have supper with me? I know a good restaurant."
"I'm sorry, I can't. I must take Maude some food. She hurt her foot in the fall from the buggy. It isn't that bad, but she didn't feel like walking on it just yet. Also, I must find a wagon train that will let us join them for the journey to California. Maybe you can help me locate one."
Jacob was disappointed at Cora's rejection of his invitation. And he had bad news for her. "The wagon trains form up on the far side of the Missouri River. But you'll not find one leaving for California this late in the summer. They head out soon as there's a little green in the grass, say early April. All of them have left by the middle of May so that they can get through the mountain passes before snow blocks them."
"No wagon trains?"
"Not until next spring. And you can't travel by yourself, even if you could make it through before snow flies.''
"We can't wait a year. We don't have much money and need to go on now. Isn't there some way we can go at least partway this summer?"
"None that I know about."
Cora frowned with disappointment and Jacob didn't like to see that. Wasn't there some way he could help her get what she wanted? Then he remembered the Mormon camp. "There are some Mormons still here in St. Joe who I'm sure will go on to Salt Lake City this year. They might let you travel with them that far. You could spend the winter there and then could go on to California next spring." Jacob pointed down at the Mormon camp on the meadow near the river.
Cora looked at the village of tents where the gray-white smoke of several cooking fires rose into the air. "I'd better go and see them now. They may be ready to leave soon."
"Some of the rough men on the waterfront might hassle you. I could walk you to the Mormon camp if you want me to."
"That would be kind of you."
They moved off together, going a half block then turning down sloping Francis Street toward the docks. The grade was steep and Jacob offered his arm to Cora. She smiled up into his face and took his arm without hesitation. Jacob felt pleasure at the touch of her hand.
A score of rivermen who had finished their working day passed Cora and Jacob. A pair of men stopped and stared when they saw Cora. The larger man whistled through his teeth and poked his buddy in the ribs. "Ain't she the prettiest little doxie you ever did see?" He raised his voice and called out to Cora. "When you're finished tumbling that fellow, I'm next. What's your name, for I'm going to come and look you up for a little tumble myself."
Jacob's temper flared hot at the insulting words. Cora was no whore. He shook her hand loose and started for the man. Cora swiftly moved after him and caught him firmly by the arm. "Don't, Jacob. Don't start another fight."
"I'll teach them some manners."
