The Chili Queen (21 page)

“You look only a little fat,” Addie said, her smile belying the unkind words. “Have a nice trip, my dear.” Addie suddenly stood on her toes and kissed Emma’s cheek. “On your return, I’ll treat you to a custard pie.”

The train arrived then, on time. John produced a one-way ticket to Jasper, telling Emma she and Ned could pay the return fare, and the five of them walked to the cars. Emma said she would return the next day.

“You be careful, honey,” Ned said, suddenly remembering that he was Emma’s husband. He wondered if he should kiss her good-bye, but when he saw John glaring at him and Addie paying particular attention, he decided not to. Emma got on the car alone and found a seat, leaning out the window to wave as the train began to roll forward.

When it was almost out of sight, John turned to Ned and said, “I am in need of laudanum for my head. Is there a chemist in this place?”

“Oh, I’ll show you,” Welcome spoke up. “I got to go to the market myself.”

Ned tried not to show his pleasure at John’s illness. He had thought Emma’s brother would trail him about all day, but if he had to take opium for his pain, he would likely want to bed down again. That meant Ned could leave for Jasper at once. “I have work to do. If I finish, I’ll call on you when the sun goes down and see if you want to stretch your legs, maybe get a dinner of codfish and crackers,” he said, then smiled to himself. Sundown would not catch Ned within miles of Nalgitas.

When John didn’t reply, Ned said, “Or if you don’t feel like getting up, I’ll ask Mrs. French here to send Welcome with a bowl of broth.”

“I’ll tend to myself,” John said. “I’ll meet you here at traintime tomorrow. We will talk about the cattle when Emma gets back—just the three of us.” He sent a hard look at Addie, as if to say she was not expected. “Hurry along,” he told Welcome.

“We’ll give the ground fits with our feets,” she replied, and the two walked quickly into town.

Ned and Addie followed at a slower pace, walking along in silence. “I’ll be leaving now,” Ned said when they reached The Chili Queen.

Addie stepped onto the front step and took off her sunbonnet. “Are you coming back, Ned?”

“Why, sure thing. Why wouldn’t I?” Ned grinned at her.

“I mean it,” Addie said. There was a catch in her voice.

Ned moved a little closer. With Addie on the step, the two of them were the same height, and he looked directly into her eyes, which were wet. Something decent in Ned told him Addie deserved the truth. He looked away. “No. I reckon I won’t be seeing you again.”

“It’s like I figured, then,” Addie said, and then her voice broke.

Ned hoped she wouldn’t give him any knotty talk, and he said quickly, “We had some good times, Addie, the best times I ever had. And I loved you plenty and am grateful for it. But we agreed at the beginning it wasn’t for keeps, and any idea I ever had otherwise, I gave it up a long time ago. You told me you didn’t want anything permanent.” He looked up at her. “I’ll be sending you your money. You can trust me on that.”

Addie nodded and looked at him a long time, while tears ran down her plump cheeks. She started to speak but thought better of it and abruptly turned and went inside, shutting the door behind her. Ned stared at it, knowing he and Addie had just closed the door on four good years. But he wasn’t tempted to open it. He’d be fair, more than fair. He’d send her $250 for Welcome and $500 for herself, twice the amount Addie expected.

“Good-bye, Addie,” Ned said softly, then turned and hurried to the barn. He collected his blanket roll and saddlebags, went into the kitchen long enough to take some provisions. Then he saddled the horse, mounted, and rode west, never once looking back over his shoulder at The Chili Queen.

Ned reached Jasper before the train did. The train was late, most likely due to a breakdown, or maybe the engine had hit a cow, the agent explained. The man seemed inclined to talk, but Ned was preoccupied and turned away. He wondered if he should find a preacher in Jasper but decided that was not a good idea. Getting married would take precious time. Besides, somebody might remember that when he and Emma had been there only a few days before, she was his sister. Perhaps, since they were getting married, Emma would be willing to share his blanket when they camped on the prairie that night, but if she said no, that was all right. After all, she would be his wife. He didn’t mind so much that she would want to wait.

Ned thought about buying supplies but decided against that, too, since someone in Spillman & Gottschalk might recognize him. He’d taken enough food from The Chili Queen to last until they reached Taos. Ned went to the livery stable and looked at the horses for sale, liked two of them but thought Emma should choose her own mount. Then he walked along the street looking for a saloon. He was about to go inside when he realized he didn’t want to smell like a brewery when he met Emma, so he wandered into a gents’ furnishing shop and paid $2.50 for a hat. Then as he walked past the jewelry store, he remembered that Emma had admired something in the display.

Ned listened for the train whistle, and not hearing it, he went inside and said he would take the ruby ring in the window. He didn’t even ask the price. After all, he had five hundred dollars in his pocket, and Emma would be arriving soon with more than ten thousand dollars. He paid and went back to the station to wait. When the train pulled in thirty minutes later, Ned stood in the center of the platform, grinning, his new hat in one hand, his other hand in his pocket, clutching the little ring box. He almost wished then that he had looked for a parson so that he could surprise Emma right then with her wedding ring. He had never been so happy in his life.

Ned fairly danced with anticipation as the conductor jumped off the train and set down the step. A large woman in brown got off, taking her time, followed by a man dressed in a linen suit. The conductor glanced inside the car, then looked at his watch and started off to the station house.

“Wait a minute,” Ned said. “You got another passenger.”

“Nope,” the conductor said. “That’s all that’s getting off at Jasper.”

Ned shook his head. “I’m meeting somebody. I know she’s on this train.”

“She must have missed it then.”

“I guess you better check again, sir. I saw her get on at Nalgitas,” Ned said. He did not wish to be rude, but the conductor, his eyes red, appeared to be on a bust.

“Oh, that one.” The conductor shook his head. “She got off at What Cheer. We had to make a special stop, since the train don’t normally stop there. First time in three, maybe four months that we done it. Her ticket said Jasper. I told her there weren’t nobody living in What Cheer. But she said she knew where she was going and got sharp with me. It don’t matter to me if she has to sit there all night.” He scratched his ear. “Maybe somebody’s meeting her. I asked, but she didn’t say.”

Ned frowned at the conductor, too stubborn to let himself believe the man was not mistaken. “That must have been somebody else. I’m looking for a woman in a black dress, tall, black hair. She carried a red carpetbag with her.”

“That’s the one. I guess if you was to meet her, you ought to be there, or she ought to be here.” The conductor laughed and walked down the tracks.

“She got off at What Cheer?” Ned called after him.

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” the conductor answered over his shoulder.

Ned took a few steps forward then sprang onto the train. Emma had fallen asleep. She hadn’t slept well the night before, and they would laugh that she had almost slept through the stop. The train had only two passenger cars, and Ned searched both of them, but Emma was not on board. He stepped down off the train and stood staring east along the tracks. No, he told himself. He and Emma were going to get married. They had agreed to buy a ranch. He had given her his money. It was a mistake. Maybe Emma had misunderstood. Maybe she had thought Ned would meet her in What Cheer, after all. That was it.

But it wasn’t. Slowly, Ned realized there had been a mistake all right. But it was his mistake. He did not know how or why, but Emma had suckered him. He stood on the platform a moment, too stunned to move. Then he took a step forward, and another, then broke into a run for the livery stable. After going hard all day, his own horse was used up. He’d have to trade it in on a fresh one for the ride to What Cheer. Talking fast, Ned negotiated a deal, paying more than he should for a good horse, but what did that matter when everything he had in the world was at stake? By sunset, when the train pulled out, headed west, Ned was already riding northeast, toward What Cheer.

Ned raged throughout the night. For the first few hours, he rode with wrath, pushing the horse as hard as he could. Then a little reason returned. The horse, while not much to look at, was tough, hardy, and surefooted, and would be good for several days, but Ned would have to conserve its strength. Besides, there was no hurry to reach What Cheer. Emma would be gone, and finding her trail at night would be as hard as filling up a water barrel with a thimble. He’d have to wait until daylight.

So he slowed his pace and curbed his anger enough to study on Emma. What she had done was clever—brilliant in fact. She was no amateur, that was for sure. She was a professional, a swindler manufactured in hell. But why had she picked him? Why go all the way to Nalgitas to rob him when she could target someone with far more money? It didn’t make sense. And who was she? Ned didn’t know of any brother-and-sister teams. Maybe she and John had come from the East.

Although he could have found his way to What Cheer in the dark, Ned was grateful for the stars. And he was glad the sky was so different from the night sky when he and Emma had ridden into the dark canyon. Thinking about that time made Ned grimace. He was tempted to hurry the horse, but he was in control of himself now, so instead, he reined in the animal and dismounted for a few minutes, to let them both rest.

It was well past midnight when Ned reached What Cheer, maybe later, although he was not sure because he didn’t have a watch. Ned unsaddled the horse and hobbled it, then spread his blankets on the grass beside the old depot. As he lay down, he spotted a red bag shoved under the platform and pulled it out. It was Emma’s portmanteau, and inside were the black dress, the hat, crumpled up, and the yellow coffeepot he had bought her. The speckled pot had been his gift to Emma, and she had left it there to taunt him. Perhaps he’d take it with him and give it back to her. Ned smiled grimly at the idea and put the pot beside his saddlebags. He wished he had stopped long enough to buy a bottle of rye so that he could get beastly drunk, but perhaps it was just as well he hadn’t, as he did not want to be tight all the next day.

He covered himself with a blanket and went to sleep, wondering just who Emma was. A swarm of buffalo gnats aroused Ned at dawn with a furious assault, and he awoke, covered with bites, to know himself a fool. As the previous day’s events washed over him, Ned tried to think who Emma might be. Most of the women he knew who worked the other side of the law were prostitutes. There were female cardsharps, too. Addie had been one. Maybe Emma was a bank robber. There was no reason a woman couldn’t rob a bank, as Emma had proved. But Emma wasn’t really a robber. She was a bunco artist. Something stirred in the back of Ned’s mind. He’d heard of a woman in Colorado who fleeced men. Ned thought hard, forcing himself to remember her name—Emma something. That wasn’t quite right; maybe it was Em. He rolled the name over in his mind—Em, Em-ma, Ma. Then the name came back to him: Ma—Ma Sarpy.

He sat upright, scratching at a bite on his arm until he drew blood, and tried to recall what he’d heard about her. Not much. Someone had mentioned a month or two before that she’d been caught and put into jail up around Breckenridge, and he’d wondered then what kind of punishment the law would give an old lady. He’d assumed she was old because she was called “Ma.” Her targets were usually men who were crooked enough to hide in a snake’s shadow. She seemed to be getting even for something, and folks kind of admired Ma Sarpy. But Ned had never put much stock in the idea that she was anything but a clever sharper whose victims were either scofflaws or men too embarrassed to report the crimes to the authorities. And Ma Sarpy usually kept the stakes low enough so that her victims shrugged off the loss instead of pursuing her. Maybe in the beginning she had sought to right some wrong, but now she was just another thief.

Did she have a brother? He’d never heard of one. Ned smacked his forehead with his hand. Why, he couldn’t reason any better than a sheep. John Roby wasn’t Emma’s brother. He was her lover, maybe her husband. And for a reason Ned couldn’t say, that made him killing mad.

Emma watched the train until it was out of sight,
then she stripped off the dress and threw it down onto the platform. She tried to untie the purse that Addie had strapped to her chest, but the knots held, so Emma decided to leave the bundle where it was. Addie’s way was as good as any to carry the money. She unlaced the corset and tugged it off, leaving the money bundle fastened against her chemise. Then she put on riding pants and slipped on a shirt but left it open, because the air was very hot. She’d fasten it over the bundle later. After she had put on her boots, Emma removed the other contents from her bag—a coat, the framed picture of John, her mother’s brooch, her watch, a book of poetry, a coat, her riding gloves, her piecework and sewing kit, the man’s watch she always carried. And there was the coffeepot. Emma was not much for sentiment, and she wondered what had possessed her to put it into the bag, instead of leaving it behind at The Chili Queen. John would wonder, too, and he might tease her, and Emma didn’t want that. So she shoved the coffeepot back into the satchel, along with the dress and corset, and pushed the bag under the platform where it would rot away. She laid the other things in a neat row beside her.

Welcome had packed a dinner, and Emma spread out the contents on the linen napkin that it was wrapped in. She wasn’t hungry, and the idea of food did not appeal to her, but she had a hard ride ahead, and they would not want to waste time stopping to eat, so she chewed on a chicken sandwich, then gnawed an apple, putting aside the spice cake for later. Welcome knew spice cake was her favorite and had baked it just for her. Welcome had been thoughtful, making the two weeks at The Chili Queen easier than they might have been, although Emma had felt Welcome hovering over her like an uneasy spirit, even when she slept. Addie and Ned had been kind, too, and that brought to Emma’s heart a feeling of sadness at her mean deceit. She didn’t feel right about this job, not about robbing people who had been good to her. Addie was not the cruel woman that Emma had expected her to be. And Ned—he had been more than good to her; he had offered her a home and his hand in marriage. She had not wanted that, had not even seen it coming. And she had not wanted to hurt him, but there was no way she could have called off the job. Thinking about Ned and the ranch, where they might have made a home had circumstances been different, made her sad.

It was not safe for her heart to dwell too much on home, so she turned her thoughts to the ride ahead. She tossed the apple core as far away as she could and stood up. Since she would be spending the rest of the day and part of the night on a horse, it would be a good idea to exercise her legs while she waited.

She walked down the deserted street of What Cheer, pausing to look into the saloon, then stopping at the house where she and Ned had tied their horses. Ned had picked a blossom for her that day, a red wildflower, and she looked around for one like it to fasten to her shirt. She stopped herself then. This would not do. Ned had awakened something long dead in her. He had brought her joy that she hadn’t known for a long time, and thoughts of him made her heart ache. Emma thought of his lazy eyes, how they turned green in the bright shining light from the sun, his hair and the way it was blown into curls by the wind, Ned’s hands, which were firm and shaped like Tom’s. Emma had almost forgotten about Tom’s hands. Tom was a part of her life such a long time ago, before she met John, of course. She must put Ned into a compartment of her mind and lock it up, just as she had Tom. Her life before was shut away, and except for the dreams, which she could not control, she did not let herself call it up very often. In a few days, she would forget about Ned. He was no more important than any of the others whom she and John had cheated. Still, the others had been bad men. They had deserved what they got. Ned was different. She hadn’t known that. But it couldn’t be helped now. Her loyalty was to John, and loyalty, Emma had decided long ago, was more important than love. Without John, Emma likely would be dead—or worse: She might not be dead. She might still be that vengeful creature hovering between life and death that she had been when John found her. Sometimes it seemed as if she had lived as long as people twice her age.

With a start, she wondered if Addie felt that way sometimes. She remembered Addie shivering as she looked out the train window at the hardscrabble farm. While she had been sure she would dislike Addie—although she did not despise madams, as John did—Emma found herself impressed that, whatever her background and her reasons for turning out, Addie had a high opinion of herself and her profession. Ned told her that Addie was arrested for prostitution in San Antonio once and brought before a judge. Instead of declaring there had been a mistake, Addie had announced, “I am indeed a soiled dove, and if it is against the law, why did you yourself visit me Saturday night, your honor?” Under different circumstances, Addie could have been her friend.

Emma did not want to think about what she had done to Addie—or what Addie would do to her if she had the chance—so she shook the thoughts from her head, and she hurried back to the station. The sun shone out pretty hot, and she had worked herself up so that she panted like a sheep on a summer day. She looked south where the grass was burned yellow and the ground parched up, to see if she could catch a glimpse of John. But it was too early for him to arrive. She knew both John and Ned wanted to get away from each other, so one of them would think up an excuse, and they would hurry off in opposite directions. She and John had planned that he would slip away while Ned remained in Nalgitas until the train returned the next day. They didn’t know until the last minute that Ned planned to meet her in Jasper. That would give them less of a head start, and Emma was anxious to be gone. She was fidgety, had been since the letter from John arrived and she knew she and John and Ned would be together. She had worried she might make a mistake, spoil things, or worse, Ned might figure out what was going on and John would be in danger. She would not forgive herself for that.

She sat down in the shade of the depot beside her things and thought it would be nice to take a nap. When she hadn’t been able to sleep last night at The Chili Queen, she’d gone into the kitchen in the dark, hoping to make tea. Then she’d been afraid that if she built up the fire in the stove, she would wake Addie or one of the girls, or that Welcome would see the light and want to know what was wrong. She could not abide Welcome’s questions and dark eyes peering into her soul, so Emma had gone out onto the back porch, where she sat for an hour or two.

Now, she rested her head against the depot wall, smelling the sage and listening to the
scat
sound of bugs that flew past her. Some creature made a rustling noise in the long grass, and she wondered if there were rattlesnakes about. But snakes weren’t what she feared. She feared Ned. If he caught up with them, he would have no pity for her. Emma forced herself to turn her mind away from him again and picked up her sewing, but her fingers were damp, and they made her needle sticky. It squeaked as it went through the fabric. Besides, the little square of yellow that she was working came from the fabric Ned had bought her in Jasper. She set aside her piecing and looked out over the prairie, shading her eyes as she stared at the sun-washed grass. The heat made Emma sluggish, and despite her nervousness, she rested her head against the depot wall and fell asleep.

When she awoke, feeling a little refreshed, she tried to think how long she had slept. But her watch had stopped, and she hadn’t wound Tom’s watch since she left Georgetown, for fear Addie would hear the ticking in her purse and become curious. She opened it and read the inscription:
Tom. Forever. Apr. 20, 1868. Em
. The timepiece was gold and expensive, and it hadn’t been used much—farmers didn’t carry around valuable jewelry in their jeans pockets. Of course, she should have left it home, but she could not bring herself to part with it.

Emma set it beside the other things lined up next to her, straightened the book, and refolded her sewing. John teased her about her compulsion for tidiness, but their success was due in no small part to Emma’s orderliness and attention to the smallest detail. The symmetry of her articles pleased her. It wouldn’t take any time at all to store the possessions in her saddlebags and tie the coat behind her saddle.

Emma found the spice cake and ate it, neatly folding the napkin and placing it in the bag under the platform. She picked up the sewing again, examined her tiny stitches, then removed a raveling thread on one side of the block. It was cooler in the shade of the depot, and Emma thought stitching would calm her nerves. So she put her needle into the fabric, taking six, seven, eight stitches. As she pulled the thread through the material, she glanced up, and saw a rider moving through the rabbit brush, whose leaves were almost white in the sunlight. She secured the needle in the quilt block and stood, raising her arm to wave, but caution caused her to put it back down. What if the rider were not John? He might be a cowboy or a prospector—or even Ned. What if something had gone wrong and Ned was coming after her? The thought gave her a moment of terror, but she calmed herself. Ned would be on his way to Jasper. He would not know yet that she had gotten off the train at What Cheer. Still, she quickly collected her things and bundled them up in the coat, excepting the gun, which she secured in her belt. Then she slipped into the depot and buttoned her shirt as she peered out the window.

The horseman was out of sight. Emma checked the gun, wondering what she would do if the rider turned out to be Ned. She moved along the wall of the depot, the gun in her hand, and looked through a place where the board siding had broken away. The rider was clear now. She recognized him and rushed outside and waved the bundle. John astride a fine black horse and leading a second mount rode straight to her. He dismounted onto the platform and clasped Emma in his arms. Then he held her a little away and looked at her and said, “My God, it is you. I scarce believed that drab woman at the station was my Emmie. Oh, it has been dreadful lonesome these two weeks.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Emma said, putting her head against his shoulder. And she had. She felt warm and safe against him, just like always.

John looked at her, well pleased. “When we are home, you can put on your crimson velvet, and I shall take you to the Frenchman’s for a meal cooked in the right style. This has been an ordeal for you, and we will have a big time.” He turned his attention to the second horse then. “You’ll like him. One thing I’ll say for Charley is he sure knows his horse-flesh. He said Ned Partner tried to buy them a few days ago, but Charley beat him to it.” John chuckled.

“We’ll talk about it later. We must be gone. We have a big day’s journey, and it is already late,” Emma said. She unrolled the coat and stuffed her things into the saddlebags. John tied the coat to the saddle of her horse.

“You think he’ll follow then?”

“Of course,” Emma said. “Wouldn’t you, if someone relieved you of five thousand seven hundred and fifty dollars and made you out to be a natural idiot?” She had not meant to sound so sharp and smiled at John to take away the sting of her words.

“We did that, didn’t we?” John held the horse while she mounted, then handed her the reins. “He will be grossly insulted and blame Addie, then take his leave of her, and that is what Charley wanted. And we have his money; that is what we wanted.”

“Yes, but Ned will also go to hell and back to get that money. He will be rash, reckless, and foolhardy in his pursuit of us,” Emma warned, as John mounted and led the way north. “If he kills us, he will be easy in the heart about it.”

John turned in the saddle to study Emma. “Were you in danger, then?”

The words were as much a question as a statement. “No. At least, I don’t think so,” Emma said.

“Well, you’re safe now.”

But she was not, Emma knew. Even with John beside her, she was not safe. She kicked her horse and rode on ahead of him.

The two of them rode until twilight, enduring the dust and discomfort without complaining. John wanted to stop then, but Emma urged him on, through the sunset, although her head ached from riding in the bright sun without a hat and she was greatly fatigued.

“We have a full day on him. He won’t leave until morning,” John told her.

Emma knew that John was weak, as he always was after one of his headaches. Still, she urged him to go on. “You don’t know him. Ned has lost altogether everything he had.” She shook her head a little to rid herself of the feeling of sadness that had come over her heart at those words. Ned had lost more than money, but, of course, she didn’t tell that to John. “Our best hope is that the train will depart Jasper before he arrives, and believing I am there, he will take the time to search the town for me. When he doesn’t find me, he will think that I did not get off the train but went on, cheating both of you. I should have told you to keep him in Nalgitas longer.”

“It’s too late to worry about that. Even if the worst happens and he gets there before the train, he will be riding a spent horse.”

“He could buy one in Jasper.”

“And take any nag that is available, just as he did in Nalgitas.” John shot her a look. “Yes, I heard about the two of you going to Jasper. You knew I would. But that is your business. Besides, if I had to spend more than one day in Nalgitas, I, too, would find a way to get out.”

Emma looked out at the rabbit brush, whose blooms made blotches of yellow as far as she could see. When she did not reply, John continued, “And you have said he is not such a good horseman as we are. Even if he finds a fine horse and rides tremendous hard and reaches What Cheer tonight, he won’t be able to pick up the trail in the dark.” Their own horses were good, and they knew where to acquire fresh ones if they needed them. “Besides,” John continued, “Charley says Ned Partner has scrambled eggs for brains.”

“No, he does not,” Emma retorted, wondering why she felt it necessary to defend Ned. “He is easygoing, and for that reason, some believe him to be stupid, but I am not of that opinion. In fact, I was afraid he would see through the whole thing. He does now, of course.”