Diamond Buckow (6 page)

“Why don't you just go on to Oregon, then? I'll stay here in Dodge City, and take care of myself.”

“Why, t'aint right for me to think on leavin' you in this wild town alone.”

“It's more right than chasing those crazy dreams you believe in. If I were to stay here and live, I'd at least have some kind of future to tie stakes onto, Pa.”

Even Buck could sense that iron forged her reply, and he wanted to applaud her on standing up for herself.

But Ainsworth's low rumble came out like the growl of a cornered wolf.

“If I say I'm goin', you're goin' with me. You're still my daughter, like it or not, Sally girl, and you're of no age to decide for yourself.”

“Yes, Pa.”

A new quality crept into her voice, and Buck perked up his ears. Something about it sounded like his sister, Rebekah, when she was trying to put a trick over onto Ma and Gerald Hamm.

Sarah said, “Just go pay the man for our meal, and I'll meet you at the rooming house later. I promised I'd work two hours yet tonight. That way I can pick up the rest of my wages.”

Her father wasn't so drunk as to miss that slight edge to her words.

Suspicious, he ordered, “You go git yourself packed. Right now. I'm a-goin' to look up Casey and make the arrangements. If I'm late tonight, don't wait up for me. Just wake me up right off in the morning, ‘cause the wagon train will be leavin' at first light.”

The booth shuddered and creaked with the weight of someone getting up on the other side. As Ainsworth walked past, Buck got a good look at him—medium height and medium build, except for the distended belly that reached ahead of the rest of him, tangled filthy hair, and lifeless eyes of no particular color. A permanently reddened nose was the beacon of a habitual drinker. Buck flinched, hoping the daughter hadn't inherited her father's looks.

In a moment she quietly got up from her seat and moved gracefully to the counter. Ainsworth had lurched out the door without paying. As Sarah coolly took care of it, Buck guessed this had become something of a habit with her.

He had to see her closer, he thought. Gulping down the last of his coffee, he slid off the bench in such a hurry that he didn't see her returning to the booth where she and her father had sat. As Buck stood up, he came face-to-face with two of the brightest emerald eyes he'd ever seen.

His gaze locked with hers for several seconds before he managed, “I'm sorry, Miss. I didn't know you were coming this way.”

“Oh, it was my fault,” her tuneful voice replied. “Please forgive me.”

Buck's mouth opened but no sound came out. He felt himself being pulled into the deep seas of Sarah's eyes, which fascinated him as much as her liquid tones. He was only dimly aware of her milky-white skin, blonde curly hair, and tiny pink mouth.

Sarah Ainsworth shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Finally she stammered, “I ... I left a package at my seat. If you'll excuse me ...”

Buck whirled around to get it for her, their hands touching as he extended the parcel. A shock jolted through him.

“Thank you very much,” Sarah ventured primly as she turned and left without waiting for Buck to say more.

His eyes followed her while his legs carried him to the counter to pay for the big steak.

Seeing where his customer was looking, the manager grinned. “That's quite a little filly. Sure wouldn't mind gettin' to know her better, myself.”

Buck didn't like the way he stared out the window and across the dusty street after Sarah. He was about to say so when he caught himself—he had no right. She surely had roused something inside him, but he hadn't even got her to talking. He studied the counter man while he got his change back, wondering if he knew anything about the Ainsworth girl.

Casually, Buck observed, “I'd think, working in a restaurant, you'd come to know most anybody you'd a mind to.”

For the first time the fellow gave Buck some real notice. “Well, you know how it is around Dodge. All kinds of folk comin' and goin'. Most of 'em you only see once, except for the regulars. That one, though, and her daddy've been in several times of late.”

He took a second look at his paying customer and Buck suddenly remembered the stolen cattle he'd helped bring to the railhead. He decided not to ask any more questions.

Shrugging, he smiled, “Reckon it doesn't matter to me. I'm one of those as is here today and gone tomorrow.”

But the proprietor went on talking like he hadn't heard Buck.

“They must be stayin' in town. They come in here for a meal about the same time every day. I can always tell if they're about to have a fight. If the old coot's hung over, they get along fine. But if he's already started hittin' the bottle for the day, they rake each other over the coals.”

“How about when he's sober?” Buck asked without thinking.

“Come to think of it, I never seen him sober. Always at least part drunk or hung over, that one.”

“Uh-huh,” Buck grunted, and left before the man could look up at him again.

Out on the street, he took a deep breath as he walked along. He mentally reviewed what few details he'd learned about Sarah. She'd said something to Ainsworth about meeting him at the rooming house. And she worked at—what was it? Anderson. No, Henderson—Mrs. Henderson's millinery, that sounded right. And if he'd read things right, she'd be there working so as to get her pay, no matter what her pa had told her.

As Buck sauntered, whistling, he latched onto a plan. He'd find the store, try to get Sarah to wait on him, and buy a present to send home to Ma. He also decided he'd need to find a place to buy himself some new clothes, but first he wanted to make sure he had a chance to see Sarah again. Two more hours and she'd be gone with her father. He'd never get another opportunity to meet her.

The store he finally entered was full of merchandise, but dimly lit. Buck couldn't see anybody, but when he stopped to look through a pile of shirts, he heard voices in the back. As he went in that direction, a woman came out of the rear room. Her head was turned away from him as she talked to someone behind the partition.

“Thank you,” she said. “I'll come next week to see if it's in yet.”

When she noticed Buck, she started. “Oh, I didn't hear you come in. I mean, I thought the ladies' clerk and I were alone. The girl in back said Mr. and Mrs. Henderson have gone out to eat, so if you want something, you'll have to see her.”

That he was in the right place registered, but not as much as Buck's surprise at seeing another pretty girl. Only this time, he vowed, he wouldn't let himself stand there like a speechless scarecrow.

“Sorry if I startled you, Miss,” he smiled. “But I assure you I'm harmless, especially to such an attractive lady.”

He quickly removed his hat and thought that this was some town, where he could meet two young women the same day. But this one here was sure different from Sarah. Her hair was just the color of the honey Ma used to set on the table. She wasn't anywhere near as tall as Sarah, either, but she filled out her dress a sight better.

The woman's astonished look changed to a wide grin of amusement at Buck's brashness.

“It's not Miss, it's Mrs.—Mrs. Henry Blough.”

“I'm sorry,” he blurted, so obviously distressed that she laughed out loud.

“It's not the end of the world, you know. There are other girls.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” Buck answered, hot with embarrassment.

“I didn't mean it that way. What I meant was—well, you see, I don't get to talk much with ladies. I been out on the trail three months, and—well, I guess I'm not much at saying what I aim to.”

Mrs. Blough stared at him with direct and forthright brown eyes.

“And what was it you were trying to say?”

My God, Buck groaned inwardly. What was wrong with him? He'd talked with lots of married women before. Trouble was, this one looked too young.

Wanting to sound worldly, he rattled on, revealing more than he intended.

“Well, Ma' am, I just wanted to talk to you without freezing up. I did that this afternoon: I met a girl in the restaurant that I wanted to talk to. I heard her voice and I looked her right in the eye, but I couldn't hardly get a single word out. That's why I came in here, matter-of-fact. Thought maybe I'd find her. And then, of course, I got to get some new clothes so I'll look better.”

A mischievous twinkle brightened Mrs. Blough's earthy eyes. “I'm sure that won't hurt. But west of the Mississippi, we're used to men in worn clothing. If she's been around this territory any length of time, I doubt your clothes will make much difference.”

“I also need a job,” he ventured, “and so I'll need more to wear if I go to some outlying ranch.”

Buck gulped and took a deep breath. He wondered why in hell he couldn't stop jabbering. Couldn't much open his mouth to Sarah, and couldn't seem to shut it to this Blough lady.

She smiled again. “Why don't you just go up to that partition and say you'd like to buy something? I'm sure you'll get service in a hurry.”

The woman moved to leave, and Buck watched her rhythmic, springy steps go the length of the board floor. She was older than Sarah, he observed, and maybe even a little older than he was. Oh, well. She seemed nice enough, and fairly happy for a married person.

Mrs. Blough paused at the front door, turning to study Buck.

“Young man. If you're serious about a job, and don't mind hard work, you might ride out and talk to my husband. We have a ranch southwest of here, and I know he needs help. Just ask for the Standing Arrow. My husband's name is Henry Blough, and I'm Nancy.”

She wheeled, rustling her full skirt, and was gone.

Buck shook his head. Was this woman a little more daring, just a mite more familiar than a wedded lady had ought to be? No, he decided as he moved to find the store clerk. No, she was just one of those friendly people in this old world. And Lord knew he'd run across precious few of those in his time.

Buck lifted his head, and found himself stunned once more by the same pair of luminous green eyes as before.

“Did you want to buy something?” that voice from the restaurant sang. And again it had that strange effect on his heart.

“I, uh, why, yes, Miss. I need a complete outfit to work on a ranch.”

“Oh, dear,” Sarah said in agitation.

A slender white hand fluttered up to rest against her throat. “I usually just work in the ladies' part of the store. I never took care of the front section before. The Hendersons should come back shortly. Do you think you could wait for the gentleman to help you?”

“I don't mind waiting.” Buck smiled warmly. “Especially if you'll wait with me.”

Sarah darted a nervous glance at him.

“I—I don't know what to say. They've never left me alone before. To tell you the truth, I think I'm scared.”

Buck stared at her, too surprised for a slick comment.

“Of me?” he demanded. “Ain't a reason on this earth to be afraid of me, Sarah.”

“How do you know my name?”

In her fright, Sarah's voice lost all its mellowness. Something close to terror shot glimmers of light through her eyes.

“Easy, easy now,” Buck soothed. “Don't you remember? We almost collided in the restaurant. I got your package for you.”

Sarah gaped at him tensely for a minute, and then returned his smile. Her sharp features nearly cracked with relief.

“Oh, yes, of course. How silly of me! I'm sorry. I suppose you overheard my pa call me by name?”

“Well, yeah, I did,” Buck had to admit, feeling a red tide start to flow up the back of his neck and over his ears.

“And you heard me mention Mrs. Henderson's, so you followed me here.”

“Now, doggone it, no, I didn't!” He glared at her, but she was glaring right back.

“Darn it, Sarah, I didn't actually come after you a-purpose. What it was—well, I mean—what I done—oh, hang it all! I needed some stuff, because I'm thinking to get a job at a ranch around here. I wanted to put on a decent outfit and then see if I could find you because—well, I liked the sound of your voice and I wanted to get to know you. And I heard your pa's plans to leave in the morning, so I only had this one chance.”

Sarah's crisp tones went low and strong.

“You're wrong about Pa. He'll get drunk and sleep 'til noon, and the wagon train will be long gone. He'll be angry, but I can handle him. It won't take much to convince him I couldn't wake him up.”

She eyed Buck strangely, and pursed her lips in determination.

“Now, then, just what clothing did you want?”

But he wasn't ready to talk business.

“Hold on a minute,” he urged. “Sarah, supposing I can find a job with a ranch. That Mrs. Blough said her husband needs help...and it sounded pretty definite to me...well, could I come and see you?”

She gulped. “I...I don't know. Mrs. Blough is very nice, and it would probably be a good job. But let's wait and see if you
do
get work close to town.”

The front door opened. Sarah Ainsworth smiled almost thankfully at the couple who came in.

“Why, here are Mr. and Mrs. Henderson now! I'm sure you'll get the best of help in finding what you need. Mr. Henderson, this gentleman wants to buy some clothes.”

Beaming, the older man moved to serve his customer. Buck kept his eyes on the pretty clerk as she backed toward the ladies' section.

“Name's Buck,” he informed her loudly as she reached the wooden partition. “And I'll be back to continue our discussion, Sarah.”

Her face flamed red clear up to the roots of her hair. She turned and fled into the dark room at the back of the store.

Buck rose with the sun, full of hope and resolve. He'd slept well enough to rest him some, but little enough to set him on edge and get his juices flowing over the prospects of a job at the Blough ranch. After a thorough session of yawning and stretching, he got the mouse-brown mare that he'd traded for the part Arab on his first day at Glenn Saltwell's camp outside San Antonio.