My Foot's in the Stirrup . . . My Pony Won't Stand (Code of the West) (11 page)

“Tap’s enjoying the slower pace of being a brand inspe
ctor.”

“Yes,” Angelita added, “he only had to shoot dead three men the other day.”

“Oh, my.” Savannah’s astonishment sounded more routine than sincere.

“It’s not all that dangerous—usually.” Pepper kept her tone flat, emotionless.

“I am one lady you don’t have to explain it to,” Savannah assured her. “If you think about how much danger they’re in, it will drive you mad.”

“Here comes our train.” Angelita jumped to her feet and ran to the big window.

“You will write to me about the baby, won’t you?” Savannah insisted.

“Yes, you’ll receive an announcement.”

“And so will you—for the wedding. Make sure you enjoy each good day the Lord gives you, Pepper. Oh, you’ll have some tough ones come along, but the joy of the good ones will see you through. Believe me, I speak from a deep well of experience.”

Pepper stood up, carrying her small green valise. Her eyes met S
avannah’s and for a minute locked.

“I’ll miss you, Savannah Divide,” Pepper finally murmured.

“And I, you, Pepper Andrews.”

Pepper leaned over carefully and gave Savannah a ge
ntle hug. Then she turned around to face the kind, soft eyes of Marshal Stillwell. He tipped his hat and handed her a folded letter.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Pepper took the letter. “You know you’re taking the sunlight away from Cheyenne, don’t you?”

He glanced over at Savannah. “Yes, ma’am, I believe I do. But I figure the Lord’s blessings are meant to be shared. It’s Ft. Smith’s time for some radiance.”

“You might be right, Marshal. Take care of her—she’s a special lady.”

“Indeed she is, ma’am, indeed she is.”

Angelita sat by the window, her little case in her lap. She studied the dry Colorado landscape. Pepper’s eyes reflected the speeding images of brown grass and dark, distant mountains.

Lord, Savannah is always charming. Always full of grace. A
lways patient. I’ve tried and tried this year, but I can’t seem to get very good at it. I still say dumb things. I worry. I fuss. I end up doing things I promised I would never do again. You must get very tired of my constant failings.

“Oh, look. Antelope,” Angelita shouted.

Pepper took a deep breath and sighed. Then she slipped her arm around Angelita’s shoulder and peeked out the crowded passenger car window.

The Rocky Mountain Sanitarium was a two-story brick ho
spital located on the west side of Boulder, Colorado. Pepper and Angelita strolled to the Alexandria Hotel, stored their bags in the room, and hiked to the hospital along the tree-lined streets. The vast prairie stretched east from the city, and the continental divide defined the immediate west.

“It’s not as hot as in Pine Bluffs,” Angelita announced. “Do you think it’s hot? Maybe we should slow down. Are you ge
tting tired? If you want to stop and rest, that’s all right with me. I can’t believe we just up and decided to come visit Father. I didn’t get to write and tell him we’re coming. Did you know it’s been ten weeks since I’ve seen him? Do you think I’ve changed any in the past ten weeks? I think I’ve changed quite a bit. I know I’m a
little taller. I can mount Onespot without having to change the stirrups.”

“You nervous about seeing your father?” Pepper took her hand as they ambled down the slightly warped wooden sid
ewalk. The dirt lane up to the sanitarium was lined with elm trees, green lawn, and patches of white and purple morning glory.

“It’s beautiful here in the summer. I’m glad my father can be here, if he has to be paralyzed.”

“Perhaps he’s better. We heard from Mr. Williams that he was able to wiggle some fingers and move his head and neck.”

“Yes. I wish .
 . .” Angelita paused and looked down at her shoes.

“You wish what?”

“I wish he’d never gotten shot.”

Pepper stopped to hug her. “I know, honey, that’s what I wish, too.”

“How come God let that happen?”

“We live in a world where bad people do bad things.”

Angelita sniffed. “I wish we had a better world.”

“I think that’s what heaven’s all about.”

Angelita turned back toward the hospital. “I’ll race you to the door.”

“What?”

“Oh. Yeah. I guess a woman in your delicate condition can’t run.” Angelita chewed on her tongue. “Count and see how many seconds it takes me to run to the front door. Ready. Set. Go!”

Her straw hat blew back and bobbed against her black pi
gtails. She held her dress far above her ankles, revealing black shoes, white socks, and brown-skinned legs. Pepper tapped her finger to count.

Lord, she is such a delight. One minute an inquiring young lady. The next a little child wanting to play. But I’ve never seen such a quick mind in any child. Of course, I’ve never really been around many children. Yet.

Angelita trotted back, her hat still held to her back by the ribbon tied under her chin. “How many seconds? Huh? How fast was I?”

“I think it was just a tad over nine seconds.”

“Wow! That’s good, isn’t it?” They approached the front door of the sanitarium. “Did I ever tell you about the time I outran nine boys?”

“You ran against the boys? What kind of race was that?”

“I didn’t say it was a race. I stole their baseball, and they were all chasin’ me. But they didn’t catch me.”

“I hope you gave them back their baseball.”

“Yeah.” She grinned as she held the door open for Pepper. “I sold it back to them for two bits.”

Ward B was a room on the west side of the building on the first floor. It was about one hundred feet long and twenty-five feet wide. Beds were generously spaced on each side of the room, with white cloth dividers to give each p
atient a bit of privacy. Only half the beds were occupied.

Light blazed into the room from the long vertical un-cu
rtained windows that lined the west wall. The air was warm to the point of stuffy and heavy with the smell of cleaner. The wooden floor was worn but polished to a spotless shine. Muted voices could be heard throughout the room. A rather large woman shoved her way out through swinging doors at the far end of the room.

“Angelita-Bonita,” an unseen voice boomed out.

“Daddy!” Angelita rushed around the partition separating the farthest bed from its neighbors.

Baltimore Gomez was strapped to a chair beside the bed. His feet rested on a small padded stool. Neatly shaved, he wore clean ducking trousers and a long-sleeved, three-button white cotton pullover shirt. His su
spenders hung off the side of the chair, his feet bare. His thick black hair, eyebrows, and mustache flecked gray.

Angelita draped his left arm around her shoulder. His eyes sparked joy, but also a tear slid down his face. Angelita quickly wiped it away with the palm of her hand.

“Mrs. Andrews, you two ladies have made this a glorious day,” Baltimore exclaimed.

“You are looking very good. How did you know it was A
ngelita walking across this room? There’s no way to see her, with you behind the partition.”

“There is a special music in my daughter’s step. For me, it is a very familiar tune. I’m surely glad you came. I reckon I knew you would when you read my letter.”

“What letter?” Angelita clung to her father’s arm.

“You didn’t get my letter?”

Pepper pulled up a straight-back wooden chair and sat down. It was a relief to release her feet from the weight. “When did you mail it?”

“A couple weeks ago. Right after I heard that you moved back to Cheyenne.”

“We didn’t move," Angelita said. "We still live in Pine Bluffs.”

“But Carbine told me he heard the mayor tryin' to get Tap to move back to Cheyenne and take the marshal’s job.”

“We have no intention of going back,” Pepper assured him.

“No wonder you didn’t get the letter." He squeezed A
ngelita. "Oh, my little one. We have much to talk about.”

“Baltimore,” Pepper gasped, “you moved your arm.”

“Look at this.” He raised his left arm high above his head, clenched his fist, and opened it. He gave Angelita another hug.

“Did you get dust in your eyes, Father? I believe I got some in mine,” Angelita said.

“When did this happen?” Pepper asked.

“About a month ago I began to have some feeling in my arm. Then I could wiggle my fingers, move my wrist, and finally my whole arm. The doctors think it’s a miracle.”

“It is, Father. We pray for you every day.”

Tears streamed down his leather-tough brown cheeks.  He took a big, deep breath. “This week I have gained some feeling in my left foot as well. I can wiggle my toes. Do you see that?”

“That is wonderful, Baltimore.”

“But what about you? I got so excited with my A
ngelita here, I forgot. You look like a lady with a baby, if I could be so bold.”

“I look like a lady with a very big baby. I am feeling very well, thank you. Your daughter is a great help to me. Tap and I feel very fortunate to have her stay with us.”

“I’ve surely missed her. But if you didn’t get my message, why are you here?”

“Tap got a little job on the side. So he gave us train fare.”

“What kind of job? Is he back to marshalin’?”

“No. He escorted a Texas rancher up to the Lightning Creek r
egion. A Mr. Tracker, I think his name was, who wants to buy a ranch up there and paid Tap handsomely. Besides, Tap wanted to check on some cattle anyway.”

“I knew a Tracker in New Mexico. He was a horse thief and cattle rustler. Robbed a bank in Tres Casas and killed the owner.”

“This man’s name is Jacob Tracker. I’m sure he isn’t the same man.”

“No, I don’t reckon he is. That old boy couldn’t last long at the rate he was goin’. He probably got hung by now.”

“We didn’t come here to talk about horse thieves,” Angelita scolded.

“Yes, Miss Gomez, I’m sure you didn’t. It must be divine prov
idence that brought you here. I surely do have a lot to talk to you about.”

The large woman who had exited the room earlier r
eturned with a pitcher of water. Pepper admired her round, pretty face and how graceful she performed ordinary chores.

“Let me introduce you to my nurse, Mrs. Baker.” The full-figured woman smiled warmly. “And this is my darlin’ daug
hter Angelita, who I’ve told you so much about.”

“I’m so glad to meet you,” the nurse replied. “Your father thinks the world of you, young lady.”

“Yes, I know.” Angelita beamed.

“And this is Mrs. Andrews.” He nodded toward Pepper. “She and Mr. Andrews have been taking care of my A
ngelita.”

“I think it is a very special thing you are doing, Mrs. A
ndrews.”

“Please call me Pepper.”

The big nurse poured Baltimore a glass of water and set the pitcher on a table near his bed. “Yes, and call me Posse.”

“Posse?” Angelita gasped.

“Isn’t that a funny nickname? I bet you’ve never heard of a woman called Posse before.”

“Mr. Andrews knew a lady named Posse once.”

“There you have it—what a coincidence. I’ve never run across anyone with my name before, but I always knew it would happen someday. Tell me, where did your husband meet such a lucky lady?”

“During a frigid winter up in Bodie when he and a couple ga
mblers shared a cabin with . . . ”

“Andrews? Tap?” the woman almost shouted. “Your hu
sband is Tapadera Andrews?”

Pepper felt very self-conscious as the woman looked her over.

“Balty, why on earth didn’t you tell me your Angelita was staying with Tapadera Andrews?”

“I never thought .
 . .”

“You really are Posse LaFayette?” Angelita asked.

“Used to be LaFayette. Before I got married.”

“Then it’s true that Mr. Andrews carried you out of that burning cabin?”

“Yes, he did. Saved my life more than once.”

More than once?

“’Course, I looked different back then. I was just a little slip of a thing. That was before I had five kids.”

“Five?” Pepper for the first time in weeks felt rather slim.

“Yes, but my Leppy died last summer, and I’ve had to work. Candance McCuttle told me Tap died in some Arizona prison. Did you ever know Candance?”

“Eh, no.”

“You’ve probably heard Tap talk about her.”

“Not really.”

“Never mind. I’ve got others to check. You all have a nice visit. I need to have a long talk with you, young lady.” She addressed Angelita.

“You do?”

“You probably have a million questions to ask me,” Posse suggested.