A Shelter of Hope (4 page)

THREE

May 1890

SCOWLING AND MUTTERING CURSES, Louis Dumas led his horse down the muddy streets—if they could be called streets—of Uniontown. The furs he’d brought in from his winter traps were hardly the best, and therefore the amount of money in his pocket did little to lift his spirits. His boredom drove him to Uniontown nearly a month before any real warmth would come to the area. And while the cold weather should still be able to provide him with thick pelted furs, Louis knew enough to realize there were problems. The area appeared to be trapped out. Too civilized. The animals had gotten wise to him and the hordes of others who had come to settle the land and had moved deeper into the protection of the mountains. He tried not to think of what the months ahead might have in store. He could scarcely imagine the money lasting him the summer, much less grubstaking him for the winter months after that. He hated the thought of pulling up stakes and moving. Not that Uniontown held any real hold on him, but moving was a chore he’d rather not have to deal with.

“Ho, there, Louis,” a man called to him from a bench in front of a battered-looking structure. “Comin’ in for a haircut and bath?”

“Not hardly,” Dumas replied. He’d certainly not waste his time or his money paying someone to cut his hair when he could just as soon have his daughter see to the matter for free. No doubt Old Man Murphy needed the money as much as he did, and Louis couldn’t fault him
for trying. “Might play a game of poker or two. You comin’ over to the Slipper?”

Murphy grew thoughtful. “I jes’ might.”

Louis nodded and, being intent on his purpose, walked on. He needed a drink. A strong one. And he needed to think about his finances. Thankfully, he could do both at the Red Slipper Saloon. Tying his mangy beast to a crude hitching post outside the saloon, Louis spit a brown stream of tobacco and saliva, then reached up to retrieve his rifle.

“Louis Dumas,” a haggard but clearly female voice called out. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

He took his time acknowledging the town’s only prostitute. “Ada. See you didn’t freeze out this winter.”

“Same for you, Louis,” she replied.

He looked up and nodded. Standing there smiling, two front teeth missing and sporting a scar that ran down the side of her left cheek, Ada could hardly be counted as the town’s welcoming committee. Nevertheless, Louis threw her a grin. After all, she was the only white woman around these parts, with the exception of his daughter.

“Comin’ in for a drink?” she asked as if she didn’t know his intentions.

“That and some cards,” Louis told her as he climbed up on the boardwalk.

“There’s quite a game of poker going on. Has been most of the day,” Ada replied and toyed with the cuff of her serviceable brown dress.

“Who’s playin’?” Louis asked before stepping into the establishment.

“Mostly regulars. Gus, Dave, Flatnose,” she began listing. “Oh, and a new guy. Been here about a week and seems to have plenty of money to burn. Garvey Davis is the name.”

Louis thought a moment on the name, then decided it meant nothing to him. “Any good?”

“You mean at cards?” she asked, giving him another gap-toothed grin. “He holds his own.”

Louis nodded. “Go pour me a drink, Ada. A good, tall whiskey, and bring it to the table.”

“Will I see you later?” she asked, unmistakably hopeful.

Louis laughed, slapped her on the bottom, and pushed her aside. “You might. Just depends on gettin’ my other business tended to first.”

He didn’t wait for her reply but instead walked into the dimly lit saloon, rifle cradled in his arms. There were four tables in the establishment and just about the same number of chairs. Regular bar fights kept the chairs down to a minimum, and even though Ada had everyone’s pledge to replace the objects they’d destroyed, few of the men had honored their word where the chairs were concerned.

As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Louis gave the room a once-over. At one of the corner tables, Louis located the gathering of card players and wondered—almost daring himself to hope—that he might boost his earnings with a few intense games.

On the opposite side of the room a makeshift bar lined the wall. The long, wooden structure ran about ten feet in length, with extended planks on either side that had been set atop kegs in order to give more drinking space to the customers. Uniontown didn’t boast a big population. In fact, there were probably no more than fifty people in a twenty-mile radius, and forty some of those were men. But every last man depended on the Red Slipper Saloon to show him a good time. And Ada hated to disappoint anyone.

Seeing the woman already at work pouring him a drink, Louis ambled over to the card table, doing his best to appear completely disinterested in the game.

“Louis, how’s the furs this year?” one man asked.

Louis shrugged. “Same as always.”

Just then Ada came to him with the drink, and before answering anything more, Louis downed a good portion of the whiskey and smiled. “Ahhh, ’tis mother’s milk.”

The men and Ada laughed while Louis finished the glass and motioned for Ada to bring him another.

“You gonna join us, Louis? Spend a little of that wealth you made on furs?”

Again Louis shrugged. “Don’t know as I should take the time, Gus.”

Gus laughed. “What else do you need to be doing? Get a chair and sit down.”

“He can have mine,” Ada called from the bar. “I’ve got work to do. Dave, you still going to Laramie?”

“Yup. Day after,” the man replied.

“Don’t head out without my supply list,” Ada reminded.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darlin’.”

Louis took this in, all the while studying the stranger who sat staring at his cards. The man seemed deceptively quiet.
It never pays to turn your back on the quiet ones
, Louis thought, pulling up a chair. The man clearly had the winning take on the table, and Louis couldn’t help but wonder if he held a talent for cards or a gift for cheating.

“This here’s Garvey Davis,” Gus told Louis. “Jes’ up from the silver and gold mines of Colorado and itchin’ to spend his fortune.”

Louis nodded as the stocky redheaded man looked up and grunted. Davis appeared to be somewhere in his forties, but Louis couldn’t be sure. Hard life aged a man, and it was clear that Davis had known his share of bad times. The large hooked nose appeared to have been broken more than once, and even from across the table, Louis could smell the rancid odor of the man. To just look at him, one would never have guessed the man to have money, and maybe that was exactly as Davis planned it. A man looking as he did was less likely to be robbed on his travels.

Raising bushy eyebrows over pale brown eyes, Davis said, “You gonna play or talk?”

Louis gave a grin. “Depends on what we’re playin’.”

Gus laughed. “Well, it started out poker, but Davis is playin’ a mean hand, and now we’re mostly just handin’ our money over to him.”

Louis allowed his eyes to lock onto Davis’s weatherworn face.
Here
, he thought,
is a worthy opponent. Here is a man who has clearly come with a purpose
.

“Ain’t hardly fair of me to leave the man so burdened,” Louis replied. The other men laughed, but not Garvey Davis. So with nothing else said, Louis gave a disinterested shrug and fished out a few of his precious coins.

Three hours later, the others had given up and only Davis and Dumas remained. Louis had caught on early to Davis’s style of cheating, and without ever revealing the man’s secret, he played along, matching him card for card. Louis now sat with a healthy pot of cash, intrigued by the man’s deadly calm but even more so by the talk of Colorado streams so full of gold that a man had only to dip his pan into the water to make himself a fortune.

“Iffen there’s such a fortune to be made, why’d you leave it?” Dumas asked seriously. “Seems downright ignorant to walk away from a meal ticket.”

Davis stuffed a wad of tobacco into his mouth and made a pretense of rearranging his cards. “Money’s good, but I needed a change. Thought to settle down in a place of my own.”

Dumas saw the possibilities of a new life for himself and pursued the situation. “I’ve got a trapline about twelve miles from here. House, pelt shed, and the tools a man would need to make it all work. I could sell it to you.”

Davis looked up at this and met Louis’s stare. “Trapping, eh?” He scratched his chin through the matted red beard. “Tell me more.”

They sat there another hour discussing the land and the business of trapping. Davis had experience in trapping elsewhere, but Louis felt it important to explain the benefits of working this particular area. He artfully left out the fact that most of the game had been depleted years ago and instead focused on the benefits of having a trapline already established and a cabin to live in.

“I was kind of figurin’ to get me a wife,” Davis finally said. “Don’t appear to be no white women I’d wanna hitch up with in these parts.”

Louis had already been contemplating the complication of Simone. It’d be hard to get himself another woman with Simone underfoot. She’d no doubt cause all manner of problems and be difficult at best to keep under control. He felt certain the only reason he’d managed her thus far was the isolation of their home. Simone seldom went any farther than Naniko’s cabin and had only been to Uniontown a handful of times.

“I got me a daughter,” Louis said, thinking through the idea as he spoke. “I could include her in the package.”

“White?” Davis questioned.

“ ’Course she’s white. Her ma was a full-blooded Frenchy. Met her in Denver.”

Davis threw him a suspicious look. “Why in tarnation would a man sell his own kid to the likes of me?”

“She’s just now come to the age of needin’ a man. I’ve figured on findin’ me another wife,” Dumas explained. “The girl would be in the way.”

“She ugly?”

Gus overheard the men talking and brought his drink back to the table. “She’s got a face like an angel, and she’s all curvy and round. Why, the last time Louis brought her to town, must have been a whole line of us fellows askin’ after her. Talks real purty, too. Kinda like one of those uppity women down in Laramie.”

Dumas frowned. Gus spoke the truth, although he never really considered the matter. Simone worked for him, and to consider giving her in marriage to one of the Uniontown losers wouldn’t have served him any purpose. But this … this was different.

“How come none of you ended up with her?” Davis asked, now quite serious about the discussion.

“I needed her, plain and simple,” Louis replied. “She’s a hard worker, and she knows the fur business. Smart too. Talks and writes French and English, reads just about anything she can get her hands on. She talks good ’cause her ma thought she should. Can’t figure why the woman saw it as useful out here, but what with her comin’ from a good family and all, guess her ma figured it was only right. Simone can cook with little of nothing and make it taste like a feast, and as Gus pointed out, she’ll do a nice job of warming a man’s bed.”

“How much?” Davis questioned, apparently having heard enough of the sales pitch.

“I don’t rightly know,” Louis admitted. “Ain’t never considered the matter before now.” He spit on the floor, then leaned back in his chair. “I wouldn’t want to clean you out, but I’d have to make back what I’ve invested. And by your own admission, there ain’t another white woman in the area—lessen you count Ada.”

Davis nodded. “Don’t mean I couldn’t go find me one.”

“Yes, but this one already knows the business you plan to set your hand to. Seems kinda foolish to pass up on a gal who’s got both looks and experience. Besides, ain’t gonna be too many women what are willin’ to come out here and be so isolated.”

Davis’s expression told Louis that he saw the sense in the matter. “And would your daughter also be willing to this arrangement?”

“She’s only seventeen. She’ll do what I say. She’s had the whip laid to her on occasion, so she knows the price of disobedience.” He didn’t want Davis to think her a troublesome wench, so he quickly continued. “Iffen you think this is somethin’ you’d like, come on back with me to the cabin. You can check out the lines and the cabin—and check her out, too. I might add one other thing … she’s never been with a man. I wouldn’t allow it. You’d be getting yourself something mighty special.”