Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and plots are the property of their respective owners. All OC's and plots are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.
ONE
Hoss slung his saddle bags over his shoulder as he and Adam walked out of the cattle buyer's office in Abilene, Kansas. The drovers were standing in the yard, impatiently waiting to be paid while the cattle milled in the stockyards, waiting to be loaded and to be moved by cattle cars to their destinations. Adam paid off each drover and then he and Hoss watched them ride off to one of the saloons or whorehouses in town in order to let loose. They had talked many a night under the stars about what they were going to do once the drive ended, how they were going to have a good time in Abilene.
"Wasn't a bad cattle drive," Hoss said. "Hey Jake, ain't you gonna join 'em?" Jake was in his early fifties and had earlier told Adam that he had racked up enough "good times" when he was younger to last three lifetimes. "Not me, Hoss. It takes a lot of years to finally develop the muscles to hold on to that slippery money."
"Yup, gotta grab onta it and hold on for dear life," Hoss said. "You headin' back to the Ponderosa?"
"Nope," Jake said. "I think that I might just go visit my daughter instead. She and her husband got a homestead not far from here. Might just end out my days sittin' on her front porch in a rockin' chair. She's always asked me in her letters when I was comin' to visit and so I'm makin' that time now."
"Well," Adam said, "sounds like a good way to spend the years. Better than punchin' cows."
"I tell you, Adam," Jake said, "anything's better than punchin' cows." The three men laughed at the truth of it.
"Thanks for all your help," Adam said and he and Hoss shook hands with the older man.
"You tell your Pa bye for me, hear? It was great workin' for the Ponderosa." Adam assured Jake that he would and then watched the old man get on his horse and leave.
"Well," Hoss said, "let's go get a beer but first make sure that cash is nice and safe. I still think you ought to let me carry it."
"You can't keep money on you for five minutes." Adam said, tucking his wallet in the pocket inside the lining of his trail coat."
"Well, make sure you don't just take off that jacket and leave it somewheres."
"That's something only you would do," Adam said.
The two brothers stood and looked around. Although Abilene, Kansas was one railhead to ship cattle to the Chicago stockyards and constantly had cowboys passing through, it was basically now a peaceful town.
"C'mon, Adam," Hoss said. "I'm gettin' thirstier by the minute." The brothers started walking until they came to a relatively quiet saloon that had "On Draught" signs on the outside. They had to check their gun belts at the door. Adam and Hoss sat down and dropped their saddlebags to the floor. They had ridden horses from the remuda on the drive and were taking the stage back home; the rest of the regular drovers were riding back to the Ponderosa, taking the string of horses with them. The others had been paid and could go where they chose with whatever horse they chose from the remuda.
"Where do you think those cattle we just sold are going?" Adam asked as he held up two fingers to the barkeep who nodded and began to draw two mugs.
"To the slaughterhouse," Hoss said, glancing around the saloon. It was a small one and there were no girls. Hoss figured that explained why there were few men in the place and he saw none of their drovers.
"I know that," Adam said. The barkeeper brought the beers over and Adam pulled a coin out of his pocket and handed it over. "What I mean is, you think they're going to feed the south or the north?"
"I don't really care," Hoss said, " as long as we got the money. I'm most worried 'bout who's gonna feed me. I could use a nice plate of steak and eggs. You think they sell food here?" Hoss drained half his glass and gave a sigh of relief.
"Is that all you think about? You know, Hoss, there's a world outside the Ponderosa. As we sit here drinking a cool beer, there are men dying, starving to death in prison camps, being blown apart on battlefields and all you can think about is filling your stomach."
"What you got up your ass?" Hoss asked. "You been nasty as a snake for the past few months and on this drive, well, you was worse than the Judas steer. I swear you led us into trouble more than you led us out."
"And what the hell does that mean?" Adam sat up straighter.
"See? Look at you," Hoss said. "You're just lookin' for a fight."
"Explain what you meant about calling me a Judas steer."
"Well, you kept us down to only ten miles a day when we should'a been coverin' a lot more ground and we got so low on food that Biscuit was rationin' out how much we could eat. I lost more weight than them beeves. We was out two weeks longer than we shoulda been cause of you."
"That was to keep the beeves fat. You know that."
"Yeah, but then you decided we was gonna take the shortcut across Indian country to save time and ran into them Shoshone who stampeded the cattle and stole eight and two of them beeves got trampled-dang, stupid steer. Then, when Trace complained and said it was a foolish thing to do, to go through Shoshone land, you pulled him off his horse and threw him on the ground. And when he punched you, you fired 'im."
"He needed firing." Adam drained his beer mug and held up his hand, two fingers indicating two more beers.
"You was the one who started it. Any man, incudin' me, wouldn't 've stood for it. I would've smashed your face, you done it to me."
"Well, that's the only reason I didn't do it to you." Adam pondered the fresh mug of beer the barkeep put before him.
"Hey," Hoss said to the barkeep, "you got any food here?"
"I've got some hardboiled eggs. You want some-no charge."
"Sure," Hoss said. The bartender quickly brought over a bowl of unshelled eggs and a salt cellar and Hoss proceeded to peel one.
"Aren't you going to wash your hands first?" Adam said with disgust.
"I done eat so much dirt and dust on the trail that a little more ain't gonna hurt me."
The two brothers sat in silence for a good ten minutes, Adam staring into his beer mug and Hoss peeling, salting and eating eggs.
"You know what I'd like?" Hoss said.
"Let me guess, a steak dinner and fried potatoes with peach pie and whipped cream topping it."
"Yeah, well, that too." Hoss said. "But I'd like a bath and then I'd like a woman-after the steak and taters, of course. Been a long time since I've had a woman. Hell, she don't even have to be pretty."
Adam laughed softly, twirling the residual foam in his glass.
"How 'bout it, Adam. Abilene's a little wild but basically a clean town now with that new sheriff here like the cattle buyer said, and I think they got a few pleasure houses."
"More than a few, I'd say." The piano music from the dance halls were starting up and Adam could hear the rollicking tunes drifting over to where they were. "Maybe I will," Adam said. "Let's go get a room, a bath, dinner and then see what happens." He stood up.
Hoss stood up as well, stretching. "I been riding a horse so long that I'm gonna make the woman ride me. A big ol' gal. That's what I got an appetite for."
"Big, like all you other appetites," Adam said. He leaned down and picked up his saddlebags throwing them across his shoulder. "Let's go get a hotel room. That Landau House is where Pa and I stayed last time we were here. No bugs in the sheets and clean towels." The two brothers tipped their hats to the barkeep, picked up their gun belts as they left and walked down the raised wooden sidewalk, their heels clicking on the boards.
Adam looked around. It was only about two hours until dark and Adam knew from experience that there would be two or three more ranches dumping cattle into the railhead of Abilene and drovers looking for a good time and to let off all the pent-up tension of the long trek, herding cattle and eating chuck wagon food. They had slept on the hard ground and the wet ground and on stones and used their saddles as pillows for their weary heads.
Many a morning, Adam had woken up with a stiff neck; he feared that at 33 years, he was getting far too old for this life. His back had ached straight for the past few weeks and the idea of climbing on a whore appealed to him on a pure carnal level but at the moment, it sure seemed like far too much trouble for a few seconds of pleasure; he could satisfy himself and use less energy. And he wouldn't have to talk to anyone either.
It was becoming an effort to carry on a conversation with anyone anymore and he preferred being solitary, so after dinner and a bath, Hoss went off alone into the night and Adam stayed in the hotel room. He lay on one of the two beds in the room, his hands cradling the back of his head and looked at the ceiling, studying the small circle of light from the lit lamp by the bed.