Heresy Page 9

  The music stopped.

  —Well, well, well. Look who the cat dragged in.

  Opal sat at a table holding an accordion on her lap, looking nothing like a whore waiting for her next john to walk through the door. She wore a simple blue cotton dress, and while the neckline was considerably lower than a farmer’s wife would countenance, it was nothing to a Denver dove’s. Opal was fine figured and saw no need to show off her wares any more than necessary. Men could see what was under her dress easy enough. In fact, she told me once that she’d made more money by leaving it to the john’s imagination than by baring all. The battered accordion she was rarely without rested between Opal’s spread legs, and her dress was hiked up to show her shins and bare feet. Her dark hair was up in a messy bun, with stray tendrils framing her face.

  —Ruby! We got company.

  Ruby Steele walked in from the kitchen, wiping flour from her hands with the apron tied around her waist, with no idea I’d just taken Luke to bed and told him he should take her as his wife. I was a little dazed from the encounter with Luke, and Ruby smiling at me, genuinely happy to see me, made me feel unaccountably guilty.

  I will dwell on that later. For now, I need to explain about the Gem Sisters.

  If people can’t see from their faces the sisters aren’t related, they sure wonder from their figures. Ruby is thin as a rail, flat chested and taller than any Oriental I’ve ever met, man or woman. I suppose she got her height, along with her hazel eyes, from the white blood running through her veins. Opal is loud, gregarious, and impulsive. It’s difficult not to like her or smile when you’re around her. Ruby is all shrewd intelligence, and she shapes her personality to fit whoever she is with at the moment.

  When Hattie, Stella, Joan, Jehu, and I rode into Brown’s Hole with Jed and his gang, the Gem Sisters met us with expressions fitting their divergent personalities. Opal looked excited and relieved at the increase in female company in their remote corner of Brown’s Hole. Ruby glowered at us, seeing us not as potential friends but as competition. The gang had been more than willing to soothe their worries, and spent a week drinking and whoring at the Blue Diamond while my girls and I set to staking a claim on five hundred acres a few miles out of town, to build a horse ranch to replace the one up near Fort Collins. Within a month Spooner and his gang had helped us build a cabin, barn, and corral, and Jehu, Hattie, and I left on a monthlong quest to round up as many wild horses as we could before the snow set in. When we drove a hundred horses down Timberline’s main street, the residents came out to greet us. Ruby leaned in the door of the Blue Diamond with a markedly different expression. I touched my hat at her, and she nodded, and our mutual respect had been sealed.

  Opal played a little celebratory jig, and Ruby rolled her eyes.

  —Garet, welcome home.

  —Thank you. I hear business has been good.

  I pulled the Gem Sisters’ take from my saddlebag and handed it to Ruby. She hefted it and dropped it into her apron pocket.

  —Better than usual. Want a cup of Arbuckle’s?

  —Love one.

  I dropped my saddlebags on the floor and sat at the table with Opal. Though we are all on friendly terms, Opal and Ruby draw the line at letting customers into their kitchen. It’s the only room in the saloon that is theirs alone.

  I can be honest with my journal: I’ve always like Ruby more than Opal. Though more gregarious than Ruby, Opal is shallow, vain, and ignorant. Ruby is highly intelligent and longs for conversation about more than johns, whisky, clothes, and money, or the lack thereof. When we went on our first job, Ruby asked me to bring her back something to read. When I asked her what, she laughed and said anything. She and I always meet later, down by the river, for the exchange, since I never bring anything for Opal, and she wouldn’t take kindly to me and Ruby having a friendship outside of her.

  Opal put her accordion on the ground. She leaned on the table with her arms and hooked her bare feet around the legs of her chair. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and mischief. She asked if it was true that I’d kidnapped someone. After I said it was, Opal peppered me with questions about you, Grace.

  (I’ve wondered if I should write this journal as a letter to you, or as a straight journal. I haven’t decided, but I think you’ll like to know that when I’m writing this, I’m writing it as if it is to you more often than not.)

  Back to Opal. She was very interested in you, and I told her what I know. Be prepared for her to bombard you with questions when you meet. Opal is curious and she does have a certain amount of charm. I think you and I are alike, though, and Ruby’s quiet confidence and intelligence will be more to your liking.

  Ruby asked me why I did it, and to be perfectly honest, I don’t have a good answer. I don’t want to reveal to them about you telling our story. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

  So I sipped Ruby’s coffee and let a little groan escape me. Ruby makes a damn fine cup. She swears it’s the mountain water, but I wonder if she doesn’t have a secret ingredient she slips in.

  —Now you have no excuse not to bring me along on the next job, Opal said.

  —Opal, Ruby chastised.

  —What? She took the child and she kidnapped a stranger.

  —Joan’s seventeen. She did very well. Give her time and she’ll probably be better than Stella. Very levelheaded, I said.

  —It’s too dangerous. What would I do without you? Ruby said. She squeezed Opal’s hand. Opal beamed at her sister.

  My eyes met Ruby’s. Though we’d never discussed it, we both knew the reason I wouldn’t take Opal on a job was that she was impulsive, unpredictable, and selfish. Ruby, on the other hand, would make a fine addition to the gang. I couldn’t take Ruby without Opal, and she’d never expressed the least interest in outlawing.

  —I’m not sure how many more jobs you’ll need to do. The Hole is filling up with settlers. Some new miners are prospecting up Cold Spring Mountain. A couple of farmers are breaking ground up on the terraces. And Luke’s friends are out by Hog Lake, Ruby said.

  —I’d love nothing more than to settle down and sell horses.

  —Oh, pshaw. You love outlawing, Opal said.

  —The outlaw life is a short one, and I’d rather leave when I want than with a bullet.

  —Or a California collar, Ruby said.

  —Garet’s too good to get caught.

  —As soon as they start believing that, they will, Ruby countered.

  —Anyways, we need to lay off for a while. Got a little rough with one of the men, and, well, we’ve hit Connolly one too many times, I’m afraid. Men’ll only be insulted for so long.

  —You got that revenge out of your system, then? Opal said. She picked up her accordion and started fiddling with it.

  —If Dorcas had kept running the company after the colonel died, I wouldn’t have hit them. She did business the right way. But Callum Connolly has continued his father’s tradition of cheating honest hardworking people to make his fortune. So I take their ill-gotten gains and give it back to those people.

  —Like us. And you.

  —I hear Callum Connolly’s a handsome devil, Opal said.

  —Never met him. But I’d be surprised if he is, with half of his face covered in leather.

  —I have it on good authority that he is, and the mask just adds to it. He’s charming, too. But he can be a rough son of a bitch behind closed doors. Whores talk, you know, Opal said.

  —Even more reason to steal from him. Maybe next time we should give some money to the whores he’s hurt.

  I realized that there wasn’t going to be a next time, at least not one I would be a part of.

  —You’d be a hero to all the calico queens, Opal said.

  —We’re thinking of bringing in a couple of new girls. Think your Grace would be interested? Ruby asked.

  I laughed.—She’s not my Grace, and she’s a suffragist. Not sure she cottons to men.

  Ruby looked intrigued.—Maybe she is your Grace, then.

&n
bsp; —Business is good? I asked.

  —Getting better.

  —Tell her the real reason, Opal said.

  When Ruby remained silent, Opal filled it in.

  —She wants to quit whoring. Manage the business.

  —Become a madam? I said.

  Ruby clasped her hands in her lap but met my gaze.

  —Something like that.

  —Good for you, I said.

  —Ain’t nothing wrong with whoring, Opal said. She played a few notes on her accordion.

  —No one said there is. But it’s a bit like outlawing, there’s not a long career in it. Where’s Eli?

  —Sleeping. Some cowboys came in last night. Ran us ragged.

  —Which is why we need more whores. The long stretches of easy living are nice, but we can’t take many more weekends like this past one. It’s too much, Ruby said.

  Opal played the beginning of a jig.

  —Think Jehu can pick us up some girls in Rock Springs? Opal asked.

  —You can talk to him about it.

  He’ll say no. Jehu is more likely to save a woman from prostitution than to entice one to the life.

  Ruby said something about getting back to work and was retreating to the kitchen when a man walked through the open door. The sun being behind him, he was in shadow, but I knew he was a stranger. I thought he was a cowboy until he stepped inside and I saw him full on. He had a sallow, pockmarked face with a thin, limp mustache that fell past his chin. A band of silver conchos surrounded the crown of his dusty black gambler’s hat. He carried a Winchester and two pistols on his hips. The match in the corner of his mouth did nothing to soften the hard line of his lips. I looked to the sisters to see if they recognized him. They didn’t.

  The stranger asked if they were open.

  Opal found herself, smiled, and stood to meet the man.

  —Always.

  His dusty brown cavalry boots scraped across the wood floors, his eyes scanning the room. They passed Ruby and settled on me.

  —You looking for companionship, a drink, or a room? Opal asked.

  —All three.

  —You’re in the right place.

  Opal took his free arm as if he were her escort and leaned into him while she directed him to the bar and asked his name. His name is Salter and he looks like trouble.

  He lifted his whisky glass, turned to me, and raised it in a toast. I’d decided that was my cue to leave when Luke Rhodes darkened the door. Ruby had inched back to the table and stood beside me. She greeted Luke with his title. The stranger didn’t move from his relaxed position against the bar.

  Luke greeted us, walked straight up to the stranger, and asked him his business. I’m going to write the exchange down word for word, or as best as I remember it, because it was mesmerizing, seeing these two men challenge each other.

  —Drinking, whoring, and sleeping, Salter replied.

  —Passing through, then.

  —Didn’t say that.

  Salter pulled a thin cigar out of his shirt pocket and lit it with the match he’d been chewing on.

  —Settling down here?

  —Didn’t say that, either.

  —Not saying much.

  —My business ain’t yours.

  —That’s where you’re wrong.

  —Your star’s got a dent in it.

  —Still works.

  —You trying to run me out of town?

  —Unless you tell me what you’re doing here, I will.

  —You can try. I hear Timberline is welcoming to a certain type of man, Salter said.

  —We are. There’s one rule in the Hole. No killing. You take someone’s life, I’ll string you up from the nearest tree.

  Salter smiled.

  —Like I said before, you can try. Can I get another one, honey?

  —If you’re buying, I’m pouring, Opal said.

  —Two, Salter said.

  Luke has good instincts, Grace; he’s been around enough outlaws, thieves, and troublemakers to spot one, and Salter is one. I have to admit, watching Luke challenge this man was thrilling. Maybe I was still flushed from our encounter. Regardless, I felt the telltale pull toward him.

  Opal poured two shots, and we all thought Salter was going to give the other one to Luke, to cement their understanding. Instead he walked over and held it out to me.

  —Got a few minutes to spare for a weary stranger?

  —She ain’t a whore, Luke said, his voice rough.

  I admit, Salter raised my suspicions and made me more nervous than I was willing to show, but Luke jumping in to defend me, and insulting the Gem Sisters in the process, doused the desire for him that had bubbled up. I smiled and took the whisky glass.

  —I’m visiting my friends Ruby and Opal here, who’ll be happy to show you a good time.

  —Conversation, then.

  —Conversation.

  We toasted each other, drank, and sat down at the table. Luke stood in the middle of the room, powerless. I ignored him, lest I lose my resolve and confidence. Eli, the sisters’ beefy bartender and protector, had woken up and joined Opal behind the bar.

  —Where are you from, Mr. Salter?

  —Here and there.

  —Me, too. What brings you to Timberline?

  He motioned to Opal for more drinks, which she poured and delivered with a frown in my direction.

  —I met a woman once who’d been trying to settle here. She went back east. But when I heard Timberline was a welcoming, remote kind of place for a certain kind of man, I had to see for myself. What’s your name?

  —Garet.

  —What brings you to Timberline, Garet? Safe haven from the law?

  —How did you know?

  —You look like a troublemaker.

  —Do I?

  —It’s in the eyes. I imagine your husband has a time keeping you in line.

  —Hasn’t been a man yet who could keep me in line, as you so eloquently put it.

  —I’d sure like to give it a try.

  —Watch your mouth, Luke said.

  —Didn’t mean to move on your woman, Sheriff.

  —I’m no one’s woman. Do well to remember that.

  It was as much a statement to Luke as to Salter.

  I stood and thanked him for the whisky and told him I better be getting on home.

  My skin crawled with each of Salter’s questions, and it was all I could do to answer nonchalantly under his smirking gaze. I know Ruby and Opal can handle themselves, but I didn’t like leaving them with Salter. There’s something about his expression, his dead eyes, that makes me think Salter is here for trouble.

  I caught Ruby’s eye and, from a quick jerk of her head, knew to head down to the river and wait for her. I ran into Newt on the way and took Ole Pete off his hands.

  It took thirty minutes for Ruby to arrive.

  —Opal just took Salter back.

  —And Luke?

  —Gone home, I suppose. To brood, it looked like. Did something happen between you two?

  —He wants to marry me.

  Ruby crossed her arms and nodded.

  —I figured as much. Congratulations.

  —I told him I’m dying.

  —I’m sure he would have taken a simple no for an answer.

  —But I am dying. I have cancer. I don’t think I have much time left. I haven’t told the family yet, so keep it to yourself. Jehu knows. I’m going to tell them all when Jehu gets back.

  Ruby sat on the downed tree we always met by and said I might want to work on breaking the news. The blunt version is too shocking. I apologized. I’ll be honest, Grace. I didn’t expect Ruby to take it so hard.

  I handed her the newspapers I’d brought for her.

  —I went to Chinatown and picked up a broadsheet. At least I think that’s what it is. A newspaper. It might be a menu for all I can tell.

  Ruby smiled and thanked me.

  —Have you ever heard of this Salter character? I asked.

  —No.
I know his type, though.

  —Is it true, that you want to become a madam?

  —No. I want out of the life. Out of the Hole. Opal doesn’t. I tell her I want to be a madam because it’s easier than arguing with her. I’ve been doing this longer than her, and I’m tired.

  —Is there anything I can do to help?

  Ruby stood and hugged me.

  —Why do you have to make it difficult for me to hate you?

  I pulled away and asked if she was speaking of Luke.

  She nodded but said not to worry.

  —I’m not heartbroken, and I’m not in love with him. But he would have been safe, Ruby said.

  —I told him today he should marry you. Don’t give up.

  She laughed.—I’m not in love with him, but I’m arrogant enough that I want him to be in love with me. At least a little.

  We talked a bit about the town, the influx of new people into the Hole, even some families. Rebecca Reynolds has dreams of a school, then a church, the two first steps in civilizing a western town. Ruby was surprised Rebecca didn’t ask me for extra money to go toward the schoolhouse. I made a mental note to give a nice donation, if for nothing else than to make sure Newt got an education. Ruby probed about my plans for the future, too polite to ask outright what my funeral plans were. I was vague. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I had no intention of staying home to die.

  7

  WPA Slave Narrative Collection

  Interview with Henrietta Lee

  Sunday, September 6, 1936