Lee (The Landon Saga Book 6) (4 page)

Chapter seven

The biggest challenge in running a restaurant was finding fresh beef. We made a deal with Mr. Tomlin for a steady supply, and we hired our own butcher and built a butcher block out back. We also built a corral where we could keep our steers. 

Brian Clark rode out that afternoon to pick up more steers, and I stayed in the office and practiced handling and shuffling a deck of cards.

It was midafternoon when the door knocked, and in stepped Amos Gregg.

“Boss,” he said. “There’s a lady and a kid out here wanting to see you.”

“Oh?” I asked curiously. “Who is it?”

“She didn’t say. They just arrived on the stage.”

“All right. Show her in,” I said.

Amos nodded and turned to go, but then he stopped.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said. “I have a bad habit of speaking my mind.”

“I noticed that.”

“Well, like I said, I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not,” I smiled, and added, “You can bring the lady in now.”

Amos frowned, but he didn’t say anything as he turned and walked out.

There was only one lady I thought it would be, and I was excited to see her. My only confusion was why she was here, and who the kid was.

I disposed of my cigar, hastily cleaned off my desk, and sat up straight in my chair and tried to look important. 

Seconds later the door opened, and in walked a lady and a small child.

To my surprise, the lady was not Jessica. She was a tall, graceful looking woman with tired eyes and a wisp of natural gray hair here and there. It was hard to tell, but I guessed her to be in her early thirties.

As for the child, she was probably around nine or ten. She had long blond hair, and she also had the cutest face I had ever seen.

Her round, blue eyes stared straight into mine. It was a piercing look, and I couldn’t help but stare back.

They were both clean and well groomed, but their clothes were worn, and they were very slim. I knew at first glance that they had very little money.

I was startled, and several awkward seconds passed before I cleared my throat.

“You wanted to see me, ma’am?”

The woman spoke with a clear, distinguished voice. She sounded tired but also proud.

“You are Lee Mattingly,” she said, and it sounded more like a statement than a question.

“That’s me.”

“I am April Gibson, and this is my daughter June.”

“Where’s May?” I made a weak attempt at humor.

“She died last month.”

My face turned somber.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t feel bad. You didn’t know,” she said.  

I nodded and looked at June, and she was still staring at me through round and very solemn eyes. I swallowed and looked back at April Gibson.

“Do I know you, ma’am?”

“No, we’ve never met,” she said. “But of course, I know who you are.”

I smiled and nodded, and then a thoughtful look crossed my face as I studied her.

“You do look sorta familiar.”

“You might have seen me in Midway. That’s where we’re from.”

“And you rode the stage all the way here?”

“Yes, we just arrived a while ago.”

I nodded, and it was silent for several long seconds.

“So, what can I do for you, ma’am?” I finally asked.

“I need a job. I was hoping you would give me one.”

“To do what?” I asked, confused.

“I can wash dishes, mop floors, do laundry, clean the rooms; anything,” she said. It was silent, and she added sternly, “Almost anything.”

I smiled faintly.

“I don’t mean to intrude, but where’s your husband?”

“He’s dead,” she said, and her voice shook a little.

“Oh?” I asked, startled. “What happened to him?”

“My husband was a shotgun rider for the stage line in Midway,” she explained. “He was killed last year when Cliff Curtis and his men held up the stage. Yancy Landon told me later that it was Stew Baine that actually shot him.”

I nodded thoughtfully as I remember back.

“Your husband was Sam Gibson.”

“That’s right.”

“I wasn’t there, but I heard about it,” I said. “Stew also killed the driver.”

April didn’t say anything. Instead her face turned soft and sad with the memory of an old pain.

“But I was there-,” I tried to be helpful, “-when Stew Baine was killed.”

April didn’t say anything. Instead, she just nodded.

“So, what made you leave Midway?” I prodded for more information.

“After Sam was killed, Yancy helped me find odd jobs around town,” she said. “It was tough going, but we made it.”

“That’s sounds like Yancy.”

“But then May got sick and died last month-,” April paused as tears came to her eyes, “-and we just couldn’t stay there anymore. I sold our house, got on the stage, and came here.”

“And why did you choose this town?”

“Yancy and Cooper were real nice to me, and they helped me a lot,” she said. “I knew their cousin Rondo was here, and I had hoped that he would be able to find me some work. But he’s not here, and then I heard that you owned this hotel.”

I nodded slowly as I thought on that.

“You’d be the only woman employee,” I warned.

“I’m fine with that.”

I scratched my jaw. It was very silent, and April’s face remained emotionless.

June was still staring at me, and I made the mistake of looking at her. Her piercing eyes made me fidgety.

“All right,” I said as I looked back at April. “See Brian Clark when he gets back. He’ll find you something to do.”

A small smile appeared on her face, but it disappeared just as fast.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Mattingly,” she said.

“The name’s Lee.”

“Yes, sir. I mean, Lee.”

I nodded and smiled. I waited for them to leave, but they just stood there.

“Is there anything else?” I finally asked.

“We have nowhere to stay,” she explained, and added quietly, “We don’t have much money.”

“I see,” I said thoughtfully, and then I sighed. “All right. You can live upstairs. Brian Clark and I share the corner room, and you can have the room next to ours.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Lee,” I corrected.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and blushed slightly. “Thank you again, Lee.”

“No problem.”

April nodded and turned towards the door while I grabbed my deck of cards.

I still felt a pair of eyes on me. I looked up, and June hadn’t moved. She was still staring at me through those round and solemn eyes.

“Mister Lee,” she said suddenly, and her voice was very soft and clear.

“Yes?” I said, startled.

“Thank you for giving Ma a job,” she said, and then she turned abruptly and followed her mother out the door.

I sat there for a long time in stunned silence.

“You’re welcome,” I finally said to an empty room.

Chapter eight

Brian Clark burst into the office a couple of hours later.

“Amos told me you just hired a woman,” he said gruffly.

“That’s right,” I confirmed.

“I just told you we can barely meet payroll,” he objected. “We can’t afford anybody else.”

“They have no place else to go,” I protested. “And, that ain’t all. Wait until you meet June. The way she stared at me, it felt like she was looking into my soul.”

Brian snorted.

“They can’t stay here, Lee.”

“Have you met them yet?”

“No. They’re upstairs, getting settled in a room that we won’t be able to rent out now.”

“Go meet them,” I suggested. “And then, if you still want them to leave, get rid of them.”

“I’ll do that,” Brian declared, and he turned and stormed out.

I smiled and waited patiently. A few minutes passed, and Brian returned to the office. He looked sullen and somber.

“Well?” I asked.

“I’ll find something for her to do,” he muttered.

“June stared at you too, eh?”

“She did,” Brian admitted.

I didn’t reply. Instead, I just smiled.

***

A few hours later, I stood in front of a mirror up in our room, looking at my reflection.

I had just come from the bathhouse, and I was also freshly shaved. I wore a brand new shirt, new pants, and polished boots. Altogether, I had to admit that I looked quite handsome.

I displayed my Colt on my right hip. It was loaded and ready, but I checked it once more just to be sure.

I grinned at myself in the mirror. I holstered my Colt, grabbed my hat, and walked out.

Outside my room in the hallway, I leaned on the railing and looked below.

I couldn’t help but smile. We had only been open for an hour, and already business was booming.

Men were lined up at the bar, and all of the tables were full. Waiters hustled about, serving them. Amos and two others were behind the bar, and April was cleaning tables.

The gaming tables were busy too, and I also noticed several men lingering in the poker room, waiting for a game.

“Jessica would be proud,” I said to myself softly as I walked down the stairs.

I exchanged a few pleasantries, and then I made my way over to the poker room. I sat at the center table and smiled at everyone.

“Shall we get started?” I asked.

Several men nodded and walked over.

There was a new deck of cards on the table. While everyone sat down, I grabbed the deck and shuffled.  

***

After an hour of playing, I was pretty much even. I had won a few hands, but I’d also lost some.

I finally got the hand I was waiting for. I had a sure winner, and I bet high. Nobody folded, and the pot grew big.

Suddenly, I felt a pair of eyes on me. I glanced behind me, and June stood there, looking at me through those big and solemn eyes.

I was startled, and I almost dropped my cards.

“Mister Lee,” she said in that soft and clear voice.

“June, you shouldn’t be in here,” I said sternly.

“Mister Lee, I gotta go,” she said as she ignored my comment.

“Go where?” I frowned.

“I gotta
go
,” she said again more urgently.

“Oh. That,” I said, and I gestured at the back door. “Go ahead. The outhouse is out there.”

“But it’s dark,” she objected.

“Yes, it does that when the sun goes down.”

“Ma told me not to go outside when it’s dark.”

I frowned at her, but June’s face remained the same.

“Where’s your Ma?”

“She’s busy, cleaning tables.”

“Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll take you. Wait until this hand is over.”

The game had come to an abrupt halt. Everyone was watching us, and I noticed a few frowns.

“I’m sorry,” I smiled at everybody.

“How many cards?” The dealer asked.

“I’ll play these,” I said.

The dealer nodded and moved to the next player. I started to look at my cards again, but before I could I felt a tug on my shoulder.

“Mister Lee,” June said. “I gotta go bad.”

“Wait.”

“I can’t.”

The game had halted again, and everyone was frowning at us.

“You can’t wait two minutes?”

“No. I gotta go bad, Mister Lee.”

I frowned at her, and she stared back through those round and solemn eyes.

“Fine,” I grumbled. “Let’s go.”

As I stood, I reluctantly tossed my cards facedown onto the table.

“I fold,” I said, and added, “I’ll be right back.”

I heard a few mumblings as I took June by the hand and left.

Chapter nine

“How long does it take for one little girl to go to the outhouse?” I asked irritably.

“I’m almost done, Mister Lee,” came the soft and clear voice from inside.

Several minutes had passed, and the night air was cool. I rubbed my shoulders and shivered while I waited.

I finally heard a noise. The outhouse door opened, and June stepped out.

“All done?” I asked as I took her by the hand.

“Yes. Thank you, Mister Lee.”

“Don’t mention it,” I said as we hurried back inside.

April was in the poker room, and she looked worried. But then she spotted us, and a relieved look crossed her face.

“There you are,” she said sternly. “Where have you been?”

“She had to go to the outhouse,” I explained.

April’s eyes grew wide.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” she said as she took June’s hand.

“Forget it,” I said, and then I gestured at the poker table. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“Yes, of course!” April said, and she hurried out of the room, leading June behind her.

I watched them go, and I sighed as I sat back down at the table.

“Now, where were we?” I asked with a smile.

***

Usually, when I finally got a good hand, that was a sign that other good hands were about to follow. But, not on this night. I started losing hand after hand, and I had to fold a lot. It became irritating and frustrating.

Another hour passed, and by then lady luck had completely turned her back on me.

“Deal me out,” I said as I stood. “I need some coffee.”

The men nodded, and I walked to the front room.

Things were busy. All of the tables were occupied, and the room was loud with laughter and chatter.

I walked over to the bar and caught Amos’s attention.

“Coffee,” I said.

He nodded. He poured me a cup and set it on the bar in front of me.

“How’s the poker game?” He asked.

“Why do you care?” I scowled.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I was just making conversation.”

I grunted in response. I took a swig of coffee, and I grimaced as I burned my tongue.

“Hot?” Amos asked.

“Just a little.”

“I’m sorry if I made it too hot.”

I didn’t reply. Instead, I shot Amos a dark look, and he moved down the bar and tended to another customer.

A few minutes passed, and Brian Clark walked over.

“How’s the game going?”

“It’s going,” I grumbled.

Brian frowned thoughtfully. He started to say something, but before he could three men came through the swinging doors. They walked with a swagger and looked arrogant.

I recognized all three. They were Ike Nash’s men, and Brock Jackson was leading them.

Brock was one of Ike’s top hands. He stood over six feet tall, and he had a muscled torso with dark hair.

I had never liked Brock. He had a cocky way about him, and just about anybody could tell that he had a high opinion of himself.

They paused at the door and looked around.

Brock smirked when he spotted us, and then his eyes went on down the bar. His eyes lingered on Amos before he glanced around at the rest of the room.

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. I wasn’t sure, but it looked like Brock had nodded slightly at Amos.

I glanced at Amos. His face was emotionless as he came over to us.

“Those are Ike Nash’s men,” he told us in a hushed voice. “They might cause trouble.”

“That’s very good, Amos,” I said sarcastically. “If you were a horse, I’d feed you a carrot.”

A look of anger crossed his face, but I ignored him as I turned towards Brian.

“When you get the chance, slip out and find Ross,” I murmured. “Whatever happens, he should be here.”

Brian nodded and moved away from the bar. Meanwhile, I took a swig of coffee and tried to look unconcerned as I watched Brock and his men.