One Went to Denver and the Other Went Wrong (Code of the West) (9 page)

  “Dillard, you have no part in my life, nor I in yours. I would ask you to never come to see me again.” That’s the way Suzanne Cedar would handle it.

  Pepper still tried to follow the model of the woman whose death had helped bring her to the Lord.

  The old Pepper would just shove a knife in his soft stomach. Maybe I can find something in between.

  Junior Pardee was leaning against the bottom rail of the stairs when she descended toward the dining room.

  “Well, well, Miss Pepper. It is you, isn’t it? I didn’t hardly recognize you lookin’ so refined and all.”

  “What do you want, Pardee? I ought to shoot you and you know it.”

  “Now, now. There’s no need to snort at me. Why, if I remember right, the last time I saw you, you were wearing a highly revealing red velvet gown down at a dance hall with a drunken gunslinger draped all over you.”

  “No, the last time you saw me, the drunken gunslinger threw you out into the street on your ear for grabbin’ at my garter. But if you’re tryin’ to embarrass me, Pardee, I’m way beyond that. Tell Dillard I don’t want to see him now or ever. I would appreciate it if you two would leave these premises.”

  “You always were a fiery one. Yes, ma’am. But I think you’d better talk to Dillard. He was just gettin’ around to tellin’ old man McCurley about the time you were in a drunken stupor and he had to take you off the street and nurse you back to health.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Ah. That’s better. He stepped out to the barn to check on the horses. He reckoned it to be a more—what would you call it?—private place to talk.”

  Pepper went to the hall closet and removed her heaviest charcoal gray wool coat. Slipping into it, she tugged on her gloves and called out into the kitchen, “Mrs. McCurley? I’m stepping out to the barn. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

  Junior Pardee took her by the arm to usher her outside. Her elbow crashed into his ribs, and he staggered back.

  “Pardee, don’t you ever touch me again,” she hissed. “It would be the delight of my life to have a reason to gut-shoot you.”

  “One of these days you’ll change that stubborn mind.” His snarl revealed tobacco-stained teeth.

  A clear, frigid breeze blasted off the snow-dusted hills and took Pepper’s breath away as she crunched across the yard. Turning up the collar of her coat, she sprinted to the barn.

  The McCurley barn was not much warmer, but it blocked the cold drift of wind. Through the dark shadows she could see a wide-shouldered, tall man hitching up two big horses to a black carriage.

  “Dillard, I told you last time I don’t ever want to see you again. I don’t owe you nothin’. Do you hear me?”

  The man turned toward her. She recognized the hard look in his dark eyes. There was more gray hair at the temples than she remembered. The square face bore sharp lines. His bushy eyebrows made him as menacing as his heavy drooping mustache.

  “Now, Miss Pepper Paige, is that any way to greet a man who saved your life and nurtured you back to health?”

  “Whatever you did for me was paid in full at that reception for the governor, and you know it. You told me you’d never ask for another thing. Get out of here.”

  “Junior, didn’t I say she’d be mighty glad to see me? Why, Pepper, it’s really touching how emotional you are. My, you are attractive when you’re angry. It think it’s because when you’re tense like that, your posture’s better.”

  “Don’t play games with me. I’m going back into the house.”

  “I don’t think so.” Dillard crossed his arms across his barrel chest.

  Pepper spun toward the door and faced Junior Pardee’s drawn .45. “You do remember that I ain’t above shootin’ women, don’t ya?” Pardee growled.

  “Oh, yeah. I remember you shootin’ a little Celestial girl at that Denver saloon just because she said you smelled bad.”

  “There ain’t no Chinese goin’ to call me a skunk.”

  “Pepper, settle down,” Dillard urged. “Let me tell you what I need. It’s not as if I’m demanding something you aren’t accustomed to givin’.”

  She glared at the black-haired man. “Make it quick. I’m cold.”

  “You know you can call me Carter.”

  “The only thing I want to call you is gone.”

  “Pardee, didn’t I tell you Pepper would never change? Same old firecracker. You know, that’s why she can still make it in the dance-hall girl business. Most just wear themselves out. Not Pepper. Now if you’ll just listen a moment. I need you to do me a little favor. And I’m goin’ to pay you handsome for it. I’ve got an important meeting with the governor. He’ll be makin’ some recommendations about who should get the contract to run a new rail line up from New Mexico, and I intend to get the nod.”

  “You don’t know any more about railroads than you do gold mines,” Pepper interjected.

  “That’s what I been tellin’ him.” Pardee scratched the back of his head with the barrel of his revolver.

  “But,” Dillard roared, “I know plenty about spending big money. I’ll contract out all the work. I just get the profits.”

  “I thought the governor was a drinkin’ buddy with Billingsly and that gang. They’re buildin’ all the railroads in Colorado. You ain’t got a chance in—”

  “Billingsly’s dead, poor soul.” Dillard laughed in a way that made the hair on the back of Pepper’s neck tingle. “I’d say my upstandin’ reputation puts me right in line for the contract.”

  “Upstandin’?” Pepper’s voice rose. “You’re a lyin’, cheatin’, murderin’—”

  “No reason to recite his virtues, Miss Pepper.” Pardee moved closer to Pepper from behind.

  “Now sit down on that stool and shut up, and I’ll tell you what I need you to do,” Dillard commanded. “You’re going to ride up to Hot Springs with me today. Tomorrow the governor and some other state officials are having a big party. I’ll need you to attend as my wife, like you did back then. You will charm the men and make the ladies jealous and dance with the governor.

  “After a couple days of negotiations, I’ll land the contract, and Pardee will drive you back here to McCurley’s. We’ll be gone three or four days at the most. You’ll end up with a couple of fine dresses and one hundred dollars cash money. I’m talkin’ about a business deal that will benefit all of us.”

  Pepper had refused to sit down. “There’s no way I’m goin’ to do that. I posed as your wife once, and what did it get me? You ended up dumping me in that little cabin with six drunken drifters. If Stack hadn’t rumbled along, I’d be dead now .
 . . or worse.”

  “I remember that my instructions were for them to take you promptly to April Hastings’.”

  “They didn’t remember your instructions. Forget it, Dillard. You can go buy off someone else to pretend like you’re a decent man.”

  Pardee stepped up close to her. She smelled his breath and stepped away, which meant being closer to Dillard. “He cain’t do that, Miss Pepper. Seems the governor still remembers you and asked specifically if you’d be comin’ along.”

  “What?”

  Dillard closed in, almost pinning Pepper between them. “Yes. The governor likes your dancing and asked for the privilege of a spin around the floor with the yellow-haired Mrs. Dillard.”

  “Look, I told you, I’m not pretendin’ to be your wife—not now, not ever again. I happen to be engaged to a very fine Christian man who’s a rancher in these parts. And, I might add, who will be along any time now. I do not work in a dance hall, and I do not sell my services. Now I’m goin’ back into the—”

  As she spun to face Pardee, Dillard grabbed her left arm and squeezed it with a viselike grip, yanking her toward him.

  “That hurts.”

  “Not near as much as what will happen if you refuse to come along.”

  Pepper kicked wildly at Dillard and missed. He grabbed her waist and lifted her straight off the ground. Then he tossed her over on a pile of straw near the carriage.

  “Now you listen, and you listen careful because I don’t intend on repeating this. You are goin’ to go with me for four days, and you are goin’ to pretend to be my wife, and you’re goin’ to be pleasant, and you’re goin’ to dance with the governor and anyone else I say.

  “And I’ll tell you why you’re goin’ to do it. Because three years ago you were eight months pregnant and smoking so much opium you couldn’t crawl out of the middle of 16th Street.”

  “I wasn’t on opium, and you know it.”

  “You were so far gone you didn’t know who you were, where you were, or what you were on. I hauled you out of there and put you in a room with clean sheets and warm blankets. I was the one who paid for the doctor’s visits. And when the baby came early and stillborn, I was the one who saw it had a burial. I kept you out of jail and out of the newspapers. And I was the one who paid the bills when you got sick and almost died after that.”

  Pepper crawled to her feet and stomped over to Dillard. “I paid you off in full,” she cried. “I lied for you to the governor. I helped you cheat Crawford Billingsly out of that mining claim. I stood by when you shot down Cordova. And I cleaned up your bed when you couldn’t hold your liquor. And what thanks did I get? You tossed me off as a prize to the likes of Junior Pardee and gang.” Searching around in a wild swing, she grabbed up a short manure fork and waved it at the men. “Get out of here.”

  Dillard stepped back and let her have some room.

  Pardee moved in with his gun drawn.

  “Let her go, Junior,” Dillard ordered.

  “No. I ain’t goin’ to.”

  “She doesn’t want to come with us. That’s obvious.”

  “I don’t care what you say. She ain’t runnin’ away from me this time. No, sir. If she ain’t goin’ to dance with the governor, she can dance right here with me. If you don’t want her, I’ll take her.”

  “Leave her be.”

  “Who do you think—”

  “I pay the salary, remember? Come on, Junior, we’ll just sit here and wait for this fine Christian rancher man to come by. I think it’s only fair and honest for him to know what kind of woman he’s plannin’ on marryin’.”

  “It don’t matter to him,” she replied, still waving the pitchfork. “He knows all about my past, and he loves me. He’s goin’ to marry me anyway.”

  “He knows everything, and he still wants to marry you? I’d say he’s a little dense, ain’t he?”

  “He’s a gunman who could cut you two down before you ever got your hog legs out of the holster.”

  “A gunman now? Isn’t that nice? I thought he was a fine Christian man.”

  “He is .
 . .”

  “Oh, he's a fine Christian gunman. I’d like to meet this man and refresh his memory on your past. Maybe there’s one or two things he’s forgotten.”

  “He’s gone on a trip. He won’t be back for a long time.”

  “I thought you said he’d be here any minute now.”

  “I lied.”

  “It’s good to see you haven’t changed all that much. While I’m waiting for him, I think I’ll go chat with the McCurleys. Nice folks, they are. Seem to think you’re a respectable woman of the community. Obviously they don’t know much about you either.”

  “Dillard, stay away from the McCurleys. You wouldn’t do that.”

  “Of course I would. You just got through tellin’ me how despicable I am.” Dillard walked away toward the carriage. Then he turned back with a sly grin. “Look, Pepper, maybe I didn’t treat you all that square after you recovered from the miscarriage. But all I want is four days, and then you can come back and live your life with this rancher—gunman—whoever. Do this and I won’t bother you ever again. I’ll be so rich I’ll move off to San Francisco, and you’ll be readin’ about me in the newspapers. What in the world would I need to bother you about when I’m living up on the hill? Don’t you see, it’s the one way to get me out of your life forever. You get to have the future you want, and I’ll have the future I want. Everybody’s happy. I’ll send you right back here in a buggy. And I’ll pay you in gold.”

  Lord . . . this isn’t fair. I can’t even tell Tap about that baby. I just can’t. I don’t have it in me. Don’t make me tell him, Lord. It’s too horrible.

  “What’s it goin’ to be, Miss Yellow Hair?” Pardee prodded. “Do you get in that carriage? Or do we go visitin’ with the folks in the hotel?”

  She was still staring at the carriage when Carter Dillard lifted the pitchfork out of her hand and led her over to the buggy.

  “I can’t go right now. I’ll need to pack and tell Mrs. McCurley.”

  “No need for that. I’ve got the dresses and everything you need to look like a rich man’s wife,” he countered. “Besides, your dance-hall outfits wouldn’t exactly be the right thing for a high society function.”

  “Don’t make me do this. Go away. Just go away and leave me alone.”

  “Darlin’, a woman’s past will never leave her alone. It’s the life you chose to live. Now it’s pay-back time. It’s not like it’s hard work. You don’t have to scrub any floors. Just wear pretty dresses, eat fancy meals, and dance with the men. Lots of gals would consider that a vacation.”

  “Then go get them to do it.”

  “I promised the governor you would be there.”

  “That’s your mistake.”