Fool's Gold
Chapter 2 – Elliott
They continued to chat pleasantly enough until they got within a few miles of Carson City. Rose seemed to close a protective shell around herself at that point and 'chat' became scarce. The city had grown a lot since the last time Bart was here and he stopped everything but his observation of all the new storefronts and houses. And saloons. No wonder Anderson had relocated from New Orleans.
The stagecoach pulled up in front of the Wells Fargo office and Bart looked out into the smiling face of his friend. He hadn't seen Anderson since before the discovery of his heretofore unknown Aunt Jessie in Montana, though they had corresponded regularly while Bart sat in jail awaiting a trial that never should have happened. It was good to see recognition and joy in Anderson's face; that meant he looked more like himself and less like the fragile carcass he'd become due to his injuries and the illness that followed. He came out of the coach in a hurry and turned back to help Rose out before being enveloped in a bear hug by the older man.
"Bart, my boy, it's so good to see you! I had visions of greeting a skeleton but you look fit as a fiddle." Anderson turned loose of the young gambler and took his daughter's hand, placing a light kiss on her cheek. "Rose, I see you've met our guest already. Was he regaling you with his tall tales of daring do?"
The friendly, inquisitive young woman Bart conversed with on the journey was gone; in her place was a much stiffer, more somber person. "Father, Mr. Maverick and I introduced ourselves. There were no 'tall tales' of any kind."
Ouch. All warmth gone from her voice, Bart almost winced at the formality of her answer. What happened to alienate these two so dramatically? He had the feeling that would become all too evident in the coming days. Anderson looked up at the stage driver. "Come on, Jimmy, throw down Mr. Maverick's luggage." Jimmy rescued a lone bag and dropped it into Anderson's waiting arms. "Ah, Bart, still traveling light as ever I see."
Bart laughed and retrieved his cane from the coach. He still carried it with him, just in case. He used it every once-in-a-while when he was extremely tired; soon, he hoped, he could dispose of it permanently. Rose seemed startled to realize how badly he must have been injured. Apparently Anderson had not given his daughter much information when explaining Bart. That was alright with him, she'd soon enough discover whatever she wanted to know.
"Rose, dear, do you need anything in town before we head out to the ranch?" If Rose was unhappy with her father the feelings were not mutual; there was love and affection in Anderson's voice.
"Yes, father. I should have an order waiting at the store. I've already made arrangements to transport it and me home. You can go on ahead, I'll be along shortly. Mr. Maverick, I look forward to getting to know you better this evening." Bart tipped his hat and watched her walk down the sidewalk, spine stiff and proud.
"That's my proper young lady, Bart. Quite something, isn't she?"
Bart wasn't entirely sure how to take Anderson's question, so he chose the coward's way out. "Yes, Anderson, she certainly is."
"Here, I'm not thinking. Let's get you home, you must be tired from the trip. The buggy's over here." Anderson nodded his head in the direction of a buggy that sat on the other side of the street. He grabbed Bart by the arm, picked up the suitcase and hauled both of them to the waiting vehicle. Anderson made sure Bart could climb into the buggy without help, then slid in beside him and grabbed the reins. "Giddup," he ordered the horses and they took off at a good pace.
They rode for a few minutes before anyone spoke. "Don't take this the wrong way, Anderson. I appreciate the help and concern, but there's very little I can't do for myself these days."
His friend laughed, a genuine laugh, and shook his head. "I know, you've got a father and don't need another one. I just wanted to be sure before I quit worrying." He lowered his voice, almost to a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't tell me you weren't hurt that bad. Your brother wrote and explained the whole story."
Bret. He should have known. Still playing big brother. "He lies, you know."
Anderson pulled the horses to a stop and searched his young friend's eyes. "They almost lost you. Three times. That was no lie."
His gaze was so intense that Bart turned away. "I know. I was there, remember?"
Garrett laughed again. "No, not really. I don't think you know what they all went through."
Time to lighten the mood. Things had gotten much too serious. "Okay, so I slept through most of it."
"There ya go. I'll buy that. Say, how about a good cigar?"
Was there any other kind as far as his friend was concerned? "Coming from you, I know it's the best. Sounds fine to me."
Anderson produced two cigars from his coat pocket, as well as a match. Bart took them, struck the match on the wagon and lit the first, passing it to the older man. He lit the second and breathed in the fine smell. "Ah, that's good. Samantha was a stickler about not smoking. Said my lungs needed to clear." He took another puff of the stogie and laughed. "My lungs didn't have the crap beat out of them."
Anderson said between teeth clutched around his cigar, "She was just trying to help. I'm sure she was worried, too."
"Yep." Bart sat back in the buggy and drew on the cigar. "I know you're right. But your telegram may have saved my life."
"How so?"
"The woman was about to drive me to drink."
With that answer they both laughed. "Yeah, they're good for that, aren't they?" Anderson asked seriously.
The mood changed considerably. Bart saw the worried look on his friend's face and asked, "What is it, Anderson? Why did you need me here?"
There was an extended silence and then Anderson simply said, "I think what Rose has gotten mixed up in is going to get her killed."
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Rose Garrett crossed the street to 'Standers Emporium and General Store.' She walked inside and was immediately struck by the overwhelming pull she felt towards the clerk behind the counter. Elliott Stander was everything a young woman might want in a man – good-looking in a mysterious kind of way, with dark, longish hair and dark blue eyes. He was polite, soft-spoken and charmed every woman who entered the store. He'd particularly charmed Rose, and she thought herself to be in love with him. He turned on his charm as soon as he saw her.
"Pa," he yelled to the back of the store. "Miss Garrett's here. Come tend the counter so I can load her order and deliver it for her."
His father came bounding out of the back room, an older and grayer version of Elliott. "Miss Garrett, so nice to see you today. Is your Pa in town?"
She smiled prettily at Herb Stander. "He was, Mr. Stander. We have company visiting and Father came to pick him up. They've gone back to the ranch now."
"You tell him I said hello, you here?"
"I will, Mr. Stander. Thank you."
Elliott took her elbow and guided Rose outside. He helped her up into the wagon and then finished loading it. Then he joined her and they began their trip. Once they were out of town he pulled off into a stand of trees and turned to her. "You didn't say anything about a visitor."
She closed her sun umbrella and folded her gloved hands into her lap. "It's just a friend of my fathers." She didn't share with Elliott that it was a young, good-looking friend of her fathers. Let him believe whatever he wanted; it would do him good.
"Rose, darling, talk to me. I missed you." He gathered her into his arms and kissed her. She pulled away from him.
"Elliott, not here. Anyone could come along this road and see us. Do you want my father to know?"
He snorted in derision. "Your father isn't stupid. Don't you think he already knows?"
"I don't know," she answered petulantly. "I'd rather not find out just now."
He tried a different approach. "Rose, I love you. When are you going to marry me?"
"Soon, Elliott. I promise." She looked around to see if there was anyone approaching their hiding pace. Good, they were still alone.
Elliott Stander didn't like the turn this meeting had taken. He had everything so carefully planned out. Now there was this visitor. He needed to find out just who this person was. "So who is this friend of your fathers? You bought an awful lot of fancy food and wine."
"You know how my father is. He likes to entertain."
"And the friend?"
"Another gambler. Bart Maverick. They've know each other for several years."
Stander had a picture in his mind of a gambler friend of Rose's father, but the vision certainly didn't look like Bart. Rose again failed to mention the age of her father's friend. Whether deliberate or not on her part was uncertain. She didn't want to fight with Elliott right now, but she didn't want to answer any more questions, either. "Elliott, we need to go."
He didn't answer her but he let the horses pull the wagon back out into the road. 'Be careful, Elliott,' he thought to himself. To Rose he said, "When can I see you again?"
She hesitated. "I don't know – I have to stay home for a while, since we have company. I'll come back to town in a few days. I'll let you know." The remainder of the trip out to the Garrett Ranch was made in silence.