No Less Than the Journey (25 page)

CHAPTER 8

The house Aaron had bought backed on to the Thespian Club and was the largest in its street. Although accepted as being in a ‘respectable’ location, it was only just outside the sleazy area of brothels; dance halls; pleasure parlours and the disreputable ‘gaming rooms’ which usually incorporated the other three categories.

It was a part-wood, part-brick structure and when first built must have been an imposing building, but time and the failure of the fortunes of the theatre had taken their toll. However, compared with the properties Wes had seen in Lauraville, it was positively palatial.

When Wes entered the house with the two women, Lola immediately made an excuse to leave him and Anabelita on their own.

Wes was carrying a saddle-bag containing most of his belongings and when he asked where he should put them, Anabelita replied, ‘I’ll show you. Your room is next to mine,’ adding meaningfully, ‘There is a connecting door – with a key on my side. Take your bag into your room and while I’m
opening the door you can take your coat and shirt off and let me look at that bad arm.’

‘There’s no need for that,’ Wes protested, ‘It’s almost healed now.’

‘Is that why you winced when I touched it back at the railroad station?’ she retorted. ‘I’ll see you inside your room.’

When they met inside Wes’s room he had taken only his coat off and said, ‘I’ll just roll my sleeve up….’

‘No you won’t,’ Anabelita said firmly, ‘You said the bullet had grazed your ribs. I’ll check on that too.’

Giving her a quizzical look, Wes said, ‘I think you’re just using my wounds as an excuse for me to take my clothes off.’

He was undecided whether the look she gave him in response to his only partly facetious remark was confirmation or not.

Her next words left him in no doubt. ‘Do you really need an excuse for that, Wes?’

He removed his shirt, hopefully, but any thoughts of immediate romantic activity were put on hold when Anabelita saw the barely healed scars, the one that had carved a path across his rib looking particularly angry.

Deeply concerned, she said, ‘The wound on your rib looks as though it needs some attention, Wes …’ Suddenly wide-eyed, she added, ‘An inch or two to the side and it might have killed you…!’

‘That’s what the Trego doctor said,’ Wes agreed, ‘but the Lauraville sheriff who was also involved in the shooting has a Cheyenne wife. She made up an Indian potion to put on it and it did the job well. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to apply any of it since yesterday and the constant movement of the train meant it got rubbed and is a bit sore. I’ll put some of Noni’s ointment on it now, that’ll soon fix it.’

‘No …
I’ll
put it on,’ Anabelita said, firmly, ‘and something
to protect the wound, as well….’ Suddenly, coming as much of a surprise to her as it was to Wes, tears welled up in her eyes and she said, ‘I was so worried about you, Wes, even though Aaron told me I shouldn’t be. He said Old Charlie would see that no harm came to you … but I was right to be worried. Where was he when you were shot?’

Abruptly, she began dressing Wes’s wounds, as much to cover her emotions as for medical reasons.

Deeply touched by her very real concern for him, Wes said, ‘Charlie did look after me, Anabelita. In fact he and his friend the county sheriff probably saved my life when I got in trouble in Harmony. Mind you, just
being
with Old Charlie was a whole adventure in itself! He wasn’t with me when I was shot because the United States cavalry had taken him off to help them hunt down some Indians who’d gone on the warpath out on the Great Plains, but he’d made me practice using a handgun for hours on end every day we were together. It definitely gave me the edge when I met up with the Denton brothers, so I guess he saved my life twice over … but my shooting days are over now. When I find my uncle I’ll go back to being a miner again … but tell me what you’ve been doing since you left the
Missouri Belle
. No doubt Aaron made certain you and Lola didn’t get into any trouble.’

Anabelita had almost completed her task now and she thought of all the things she
could
tell him about her life since they had last met. But she had other things in mind….

Later that evening and despite Wes’s sleepy protests, Anabelita slipped out of bed declaring she intended having a shower-bath before going to the gaming saloon to perform her duties as a croupier.

When Wes suggested the Thespian Club might manage for
one night without her, she disagreed with him. ‘No, Wes, Aaron would probably give me the night off if he were here but there’s a lot of competition from Vic Walsh’s Palace gambling house just along the road. We need to work hard if we’re to catch up with him.’

‘Was this Walsh unhappy about Aaron opening up a rival gambling place in Denver?’

‘He says he’s not and he’s gone out of his way to tell Aaron that having another well-run gaming house here will actually attract gamblers to Denver, but I’m not convinced. Walsh is just too good to be true. He’s also a very ambitious man. When some of the backstreet gaming houses became too successful they mysteriously lost customers and went out of business very quickly. Rumour has it that Walsh was responsible. Having said that, he has gone out of his way to be friendly with Aaron – and made it clear he would like to be even friendlier with me.’

Showing immediate interest, Wes demanded, ‘What do you mean … has he been pestering you?’

Childishly pleased at his reaction, Anabelita said, ‘No, Walsh is far too subtle for that, but he sometimes comes calling to chat to Aaron and if he’s not around and things are quiet he will stop and chat with me. He’s always interested to know how the Thespian Club is doing, but he’s asked me a couple of times to have dinner with him at the Palace and doesn’t seem too put off when I decline his invitation. He has also dropped some very strong hints that should I fancy a change he would be willing to offer me work in the Palace at more money than I am getting at the Thespian Club – and that isn’t the action of a friend. I told Aaron, but he only smiled and said I shouldn’t hold that against him and that if I’d been working for Walsh when we first met he’d have tried to take me from the Palace.’

‘Perhaps he’s right,’ Wes suggested, but Anabelita shook her head.

‘No, Walsh wants to give everyone the impression that he’s a good and generous man but I don’t think he is. He has obviously got a lot of money, although no one seems to know where it came from in the first place. If you want to learn more about him why don’t you pay him a visit? He is from Cornwall, the same as you. He even talks like you.’

‘I might do that,’ said Wes, ‘… but not tonight. I think I’ll stay right where I am until you finish work.’

Those employed in gambling saloons would often work right through the night hours and Anabelita was no exception.

The morning after his arrival, Wes left her sleeping and took a stroll around Denver. He soon became aware that the Thespian Club and its fellow gambling emporium, the Palace, were on the fringe of an extensive vice area where even at this early hour women and girls stood in doorways and sat at open windows trying to lure any passing man inside with the offer of ‘a good time’. Most wore the white ‘brothel gown’ that was generally recognized as a symbol of their calling.

After about half-an-hour spent walking unmade but more respectable streets closer to the edge of town, Wes made his way back towards Aaron’s house. As he was passing the Palace he heard a voice hurling abuse at someone Wes took to be a cleaner.

There was no mistaking the man’s Cornish accent and Wes paused to catch a glimpse of the voice’s owner. He did not have long to wait. A small, bearded man who reminded Wes vaguely of Old Charlie appeared in the wide doorway of the gambling establishment, his rapidly moving feet hardly touching the floor as he was propelled along by a stocky and powerfully built man who had a hold on the back of his collar.

Once outside the doorway, the older man’s feet lifted off the ground and he was thrown clear of the boardwalk to land in the rutted dirt street and given the warning, ‘If I ever see you here again I’ll scat you so hard with something your eyebrows will tickle your collarbone.’

Climbing painfully to his feet and staggering as he tried to regain his balance, the ejected man complained, ‘You owe me wages for cleaning up this morning.’

‘The only thing you’ve cleaned up this morning is my whisky. You’ve drunk enough of that to pay two men’s wages and if you don’t get on your way right now I’ll drill a hole in you that’ll drain most of it right out of you.’

It was said with a ferocity that sent the old man scurrying away none too steadily along the street.

‘That was as good a Cornish warning as I’ve heard for a long time,’ Wes said to the man who stood watching his departing ex-employee weaving an erratic course from the front of the Palace.

‘So … you thinking of taking sides?’ came the aggressive reply.

‘No, I’ve had enough of fighting other men’s battles for a while,’ Wes replied. ‘I was only saying it was good to hear a Cornish voice again, even if it was raised in anger.’

‘You must be new in Denver,’ the other man retorted, ‘Otherwise you’d have noticed that half the voices you hear in town speak with the same accent, but I haven’t got time to stand here chatting … not unless you want a job as a cleaner in the Palace?’

Wes grinned, he realized he was talking to the owner of the Thespian Club’s rival gambling saloon, ‘Thanks … but no, Mr Walsh. I’m a miner and I don’t think Marshal Berryman would forgive me if I went to work for anyone else.’

While Wes was talking Walsh had rudely turned away and
was walking back inside the Palace. Now he halted and swung around. ‘You know Aaron and you’re Cornish? Are you the one he came up the Mississippi river with from New Orleans?’

‘I am. It wasn’t a voyage I could forget in a hurry.’

Vic Walsh’s off-hand manner underwent an immediate change and he became almost effusive as he advanced towards Wes, his hand outstretched, ‘I am very pleased to meet you … “Wes”, isn’t it? Come inside to my office and we’ll have a drink together. Whereabouts in Cornwall are you from…?’

Walsh led the way to his office, talking all the while of Cornwall, but when Wes said he was from Bodmin Moor, in central Cornwall, Walsh said he was from farming stock on the coast in a remote part of the south east of the county.

When Wes queried what had brought him to America, Walsh replied that there was no more money to be made from farming in Cornwall than there was from mining.

Once in the Palace owner’s office and drinks had been poured, Walsh turned the conversation to gambling and he asked how the Thespian Club was faring.

Wes was able to reply truthfully that he had not been in Denver for long enough to learn anything and had not yet seen Aaron, who was away on ‘Marshal’s business’.

‘Word is going around that the Thespian Club is doing well and I’m pleased for Aaron,’ Walsh declared, ‘I’d like to see gamblers flocking to Denver because they know they’ll get an honest deal here. If they do, they’ll come again and bring their friends with them. That’s why Marshal Berryman is so good for business. He’s known to be scrupulously honest and he brings respectability to a profession that’s been given a bad name by the two-bit gaming rooms associated in the past with Denver and the mining camps around the town.’

There was much more in a similar vein, but far from being convinced that Walsh was an honest man on a crusade to make
gambling respectable, Wes left the Palace wondering why Walsh felt it necessary to work so hard to project himself as a pillar of respectability.

CHAPTER 9

Aaron returned to Denver five days after Wes’s arrival in the town and was delighted to see him again. He had been visiting various mining camps around the Rocky Mountain towns of Central, Black Hawk and Idaho Springs. Wes was pleased to learn that on his travels he had met with Old Charlie, who had gone straight to the mountains after parting company with the cavalry on the Great Plains.

When the initial euphoria of their reunion had worn off and the two men were having a meal with Anabelita and Lola in the Thespian Club’s eating room, Aaron said, ‘I called in at my office on the way here and read the telegraphs from the sheriffs at both Trego and Lauraville. They gave me some idea of what you had been up to in their part of the world. I always said you had the makings of a first class lawman, Wes. I only wish I could have found someone like you to accept an appointment as Deputy US Marshal up in the mining camps. No one is prepared to take it on … but I can’t say I really blame them. Matters are totally out of hand up there. In fact, the situation is so bad I’m considering getting the army involved.’

‘That’s not good,’ Wes agreed, ‘I need to go up that way to try to find my uncle – but I’ll be going as a miner and not as a deputy marshal,’ he hastened to add, before Aaron could suggest another role for him.

‘Don’t be in too much of a hurry to make the journey,’ Aaron said, ‘It’s chaos up there right now. The only hotels – and I hesitate to call them that – let out beds, not rooms, cramming as many as they can into every available space. A man who takes a bed is lucky if he gets any sleep with all the noise and movement going on around him and as soon as he gets out of the bed it’s rented out to someone else. I suggest the best hope you’ve got of finding this uncle of yours is to put a notice up in the Thespian Club and as many hotels in town as you can, asking if anyone has news of him. It’s more likely to have results than going up there looking for him. There are so many diggings in the mountains you could search for ever without finding him.’

With her mouth full of food, Anabelita, could only nod vigorously in agreement with Aaron’s suggestions and he continued, ‘I remembered you telling me your uncle’s name is Peter Rowse and I asked about him whenever I was in the company of miners, managers or owners, but learned nothing. Old Charlie might have more success. After taking a look at the crowds in the mining camps, he and that mule of his took off for more remote areas of the Rockies – and there are thousands of square miles of some of the most remote country you’re ever likely to find anywhere.’

Wes told Aaron of his relief to know that Old Charlie was safe, telling him of their meeting with the cavalrymen and the officer’s insistence that Charlie accompany them in their pursuit of the Indians.

He added, ‘While I was in Trego I heard that the Indian war party was much larger than had been first thought. I was
worried he might have run into serious trouble.’

Aaron merely smiled, saying, ‘Trouble comes as natural to Old Charlie as eating and drinking but he found the Indians for the cavalry and after only a very brief fight persuaded them to give themselves up and let the army escort them back to their reservations. All this happened not more than a hundred miles north east of Denver, so Old Charlie left the cavalry to go their way and had an uneventful ride to the diggings. He was concerned about you though. Felt he’d let you down – but he wouldn’t tell me exactly how.’

When Wes enlightened Aaron, Anabelita was horrified, ‘No wonder Charlie wouldn’t tell you what he had done,’ she said to Aaron, ‘It was unforgivable of him to ride off and leave Wes in the middle of nowhere, not knowing the country and with Indians on the warpath. With friends like that I was right to be worried about Wes.’

Aaron was far more relaxed about Old Charlie’s apparent abandonment of Wes. ‘Fortunately, Wes not only came out of it well, but succeeded in earning more money in rewards than you and Lola will earn in a year of dealing cards – even though I pay you both well.’

‘He almost got himself killed doing it,’ Anabelita retorted, ‘… or hasn’t he told you about being shot? But Lola and me need to start work, so we won’t be able to stay to hear the true story of what happened … or learn more about the Cheyenne woman who made up the ointment that helped his wounds to heal.’

Abruptly changing the subject, she asked, ‘Will we see you in the gaming room today, Aaron?’

‘I’ll be there before long,’ Aaron replied, ‘but I want to have a chat with Wes first.’

When the two women had left the room, Aaron poured drinks for himself and Wes before leaning back in his chair and
saying, ‘I have a couple of things to tell you that I wouldn’t mention in front of the women … but, first, how are you getting along with Anabelita? She’s missed you while you were away and, as you’ve probably gathered, she was very worried about you.’

‘I’ve missed her too,’ Wes confessed, ‘More than I thought I would – but you said you had things to say that you didn’t want Anabelita or Lola to hear…?’

‘Yes … although I’d first like to say I wasn’t aware you’d been wounded. Had I known I’d have come to find you – and I’m quite sure if Anabelita had known she’d have been with me.’

‘She’s already said as much herself … but what is it you want to tell me?’

‘I didn’t tell you everything I learned while I was up at the mining camps and making enquiries about the uncle you came out here to join up with … I am right in thinking his name is Peter Rowse?’

When Wes nodded, impatient for more information, Aaron continued, ‘There was no news of him in any of the major mining camps, or the towns that are springing up there. The closest I came to learning anything came from an old prospector who thought he’d heard the name among a group of miners high in the Rockies up beyond Leadville … but I stress, Wes, he only thought he’d heard the name and to go up there and attempt to find him would be sheer madness. The country he’s talking about is beyond belief. It’s more than eleven thousand feet high for a start, which means you need to breathe twice to get any air at all into your lungs and there are ravines and gulches where you could hide a couple of armies without them ever being found. If you do meet up with anyone the chances are that you’d recognize them only if you’d studied the Wanted notices.’

‘Are you trying to tell me I should give up looking for my uncle?’ Wes queried. ‘There’s no way I’m going to do that. He’s the reason I came to America.’

‘I’m not saying that, Wes, but I think you should concentrate on talking to your fellow Cornishmen right here in Denver. Most have spent time up in the mountains and could have met up with him at some time or another. Don’t go into the Rockies until you have a positive lead to follow up, a lead from someone willing to take you there. A mountain-man like Old Charlie, perhaps. I’m not exaggerating the dangers, Wes. The Rockies are no place for greenhorns, there are more skeletons lying up there than you’ll find in Arlington cemetery.’

Wes had never heard of Arlington cemetery, but he realized what Aaron was trying to tell him … and the Marshal was still talking. ‘I’ll have some posters printed and put up around Denver asking for news of him. We’ll put a couple up in the Thespian Club and I’m sure Walsh will do the same in the Palace.’

Wes thought about what Aaron had said and Anabelita loomed large in the decision he reached. ‘Alright, Aaron, I’ll give it a try … for a couple of weeks, anyway.’

‘Good!’ Aaron’s relief and delight were unfeigned, ‘That will please Anabelita – and I do like to have a happy staff …’

Then, on a more serious note, he said, ‘There’s one other thing I didn’t want to mention in front of the girls, Wes. I know from the reward authorisation Sheriff Wolfe telegraphed to me that you saved his life by killing two Denton brothers and helping him take a third into custody. You’ve made the Territories a whole lot safer by what you did but, unfortunately, there’s another brother at large and he was up at the diggings when word reached him of what had happened. It seems he went wild, swearing to kill whoever had done it. I tried to find him, but he’d left for Lauraville,
swearing to avenge the deaths of his brothers. There are likely to be other kin with him. They’ve been terrorising the mining camps and many will be on the Wanted list. I telegraphed the US Marshal in Topeka, the state capital of Kansas, and had him send a couple of deputies to Lauraville, with orders to stay with Sheriff Wolfe around the clock, but the surviving Dentons will learn soon enough that
you’re
the one who actually shot the others and they’ll come looking for you. I’ll have Pat keep a close eye on you and I’ll try to do the same, but we don’t want to frighten the girls too much.’

While the import of the danger Wes was in sank home, Aaron asked, ‘Did you kill the Denton’s with a rifle, or handgun?’

‘A revolver,’ Wes replied, ‘The one given to me by the Schusters.’

‘Good,’ Aaron nodded his approval, ‘Old Charlie told me he’d taught you how to handle it – and that you’d learned well. Now you’ll need to carry it with you at all times….’

When Wes began to protest, Aaron waved him to silence. ‘You must, Wes. You’ve killed two Dentons and they’re a large and close-knit clan. They’ll be out to gun you down. Until we have them all in custody you need to be able to protect yourself – but the danger goes far beyond the Dentons. The two men you killed were well-known and wanted gunmen. You shot them both in a fair fight – that makes you a better gunman than they were. From now on there’s a strong possibility some ambitious youngster will set out to prove he’s better than you and if he’s had enough to drink it won’t matter whether or not you’re armed. Merely killing you would be something to brag about.’

While Wes was digesting this latest warning, Aaron stood up. Clapping Wes on the shoulder he unexpectedly smiled. ‘Like it or not, Wes, and with or without a badge, you’re one of
us now. But before you hurry away to buckle on that gun belt, shall we go and tell Anabelita that you’re likely to be staying in Denver for the foreseeable future?’