FOUR

Rats will eat at anything, even my soaps and candles had to be kept in a tin or my room companions would consume them. Their droppings dirtied my floor while I slept, and I quickly learned to watch my first morning step. The room itself lacked four solid walls, and cracks and openings in the foundation gave the rodents free entry. One of my first tasks was to fill in the holes with a mixture of clay and mud, thus eliminating any new four legged invaders. Scorpions and other crawling things inhabited the night and had it not been for my exhaustion at the end of a day's work, I would have spent the night in watchful guard.

Along with Flossie and myself there were two other girls working for Ferd. Wilma was older, near forty from the looks of her. Her features were hard and her face was etched by age and dirt. Bathing was a luxury at the Trails End, but we all had access to soap and water and I figured the days grime at least could be washed from her face. Loretta was some younger than Wilma. Her features were attractive. She had a good figure and hair the color of mine before I'd left Dodge. She was closer to the age of Flossie and me, but I sensed a mean streak in her, that made me want to avoid her at all cost. My friend confirmed my intuition. "Don't cross her Sweetie. She's got Satan listed as her next of kin."

The pay I received for a week's work was barely enough to take care of my daily needs let alone save for some hope of a future. But I kept reminding myself that as bad as the Trails End was I could think of another place even worse, and that was swinging at the end of that noose back in Dodge City.

By the end of the first week I'd worked my way into the routine of the Trails End patrons. Old Georgie paid me special court, and I suspected he had two timing Flossie on his mind, if I'd given him the slightest encouragement. He delighted in telling off color jokes, and I was amazed that he was able to come up with a new yarn every day.

Gabe was a regular customer and always stopped by before he made his final rounds for the night. It wasn't long before his visits became the bright spot in my day. He'd make a point of buying me a drink and chatting for a spell. Surprisingly, he wasn't a drinking man, and never ordered anything stronger than a sarsaparilla for himself. "You watch your step now Cassie girl." He warned one night before leaving.

"Don't worry about me." I countered for despite his good nature, he was not a popular man in the town of Rubicon; "It's your own back you should be keeping an eye on lawman."

The sheriff laughed at me, "You think lawmen are born with eyes in rear of their heads girl?"

My thoughts strayed to Matt Dillon, and I had to swallow hard before I replied, "They ought to be Sheriff."

Parm Harris was a frequent customer of the saloon too, although his visits came less often then the sheriff's. It hadn't taken me long to I noticed how Flossie would drop what ever she was doing to wait on the rancher. For his part, Parm seemed mostly indifferent to her. Flossie was a beautiful woman, not even life in a godforsaken cattle town in Texas could change that. But, Parm made a point of avoiding her. I couldn't help but wonder why.

It was on a Sunday morning as Flossie helped me color my red roots in the back room of the saloon that I ventured to ask the question on my mind. "What's between the two of you?"

"Me and Parm?" She asked in surprise. "What do you mean Sweetie? Don't you know I'm not tied to any man, other than Ol' Georgie?"

"You know what I mean. You practically trip over your feet when he comes in the saloon door, and he ignores you. Now, I know men, know them pretty damn well. There isn't a true man in all of Texas who'd purposefully ignore a woman as beautiful as you. That is unless Parm isn't all man."

My remark earned me a shower of cold water, from which I came up sputtering. "Oh he's all man Kitty." Offering me a towel, she added, "I can guarantee he's most certainly all man."

Sunday was a day of rest at the Trails End. As a rule the girls spent the day catching up on sleep lost during the long work week. But, there was warmth and sunshine in the air and the thought of crawling back into my dark little room to dry my hair was less than appealing. Instead I braided my damp hair into a single plait and then went to sit on one of the benches outside the closed saloon.

I hadn't been sitting for very long before I saw Gabe and Parm approaching from opposite directions. Both men carried picnic baskets and were ambling toward me at a leisurely pace, until they spied one another. I watched, as it became a foot race to see who would reach me first, the out come of the contest was a tie, the winner still to be determined.

"Miss Cassie…" Parm started.

"Cassie Girl …" Gabe said at the same time.

I had to laugh at both of them. "Good grief!" I exclaimed. "Is there a church picnic going on today?"

They replied to my query in unison, the summation of which was an invitation to enjoy the spring weather and a basket lunch. I thought of Flossie and replied with what I hoped was a coy smile. "Gentlemen, I thank you. Let me get Flossie and we'll both join you."

There was hopeful excitement in Flossie's voice; "Parm is here to take me on a picnic?"

"Parm and Gabe," I replied. "Come on, they're waiting."

She threw her hands up, "Oh Christopher Columbus Kitty, I've got to change. My hair is a mess; it'll take me an hour, maybe longer to get presentable."

"Flossie, you've got ten minutes."

An hour later we were spreading our picnic blankets along the banks of the Rubicon River. It was spring and there was no denying it. Where only two weeks before the land had been brown and barren now there was new life all around us. Blue Bonnets were blossoming along the river's sandy shoreline. In the meadow budding prairie flowers resembled a brightly colored tapestry of the reds, yellows and the oranges of Indian Blanket and Indian Paint brush. The deep blue sky was alive with the songs of Golden Cheeked Warblers nesting in the birch and aspen, which grew in clumps near the water'sedge. Sweet too, were the scents that filled my nostrils with each gust of the warm gentle breezes.

I had walked away from the rest of them mesmerized by the difference two weeks and this pleasant valley could make in the Texas landscape. Gabe came up behind me, "Mind if I join you lass?" he he asked. I turned around and replied with a smile. "It sure is pretty out here. I'd forgotten how much I miss seeing green grass and flowers."

Gabe nodded in agreement, "It puts me to mind how the Garden of Eden must have been. This here is a special place for me. I'm glad you be liking it too girl."

"Thank you Gabe."

"For what?"

"Thank you for bringing me here." I looped my arm in his and after a moment said, "I haven't seen you around the Trails End the last few nights."

"That's the trouble with this job of mine. Every once in a while I've got to earn my pay."

"Oh? Were you tracking down Verdon Spencer?" I asked.

"Spencer ain't a hard one to find, he and his men hole up in the Black Mesa country, perfect spot for the likes of them. From their `Nest' they can see for miles around. No, I wasn't tracking them down, but they were the reason I was gone. I got word a packtrain hauling rifles and other supplies to Fort McCoy was held up. I figured we'd be seeing War Hawk and his band of renegades sporting new weapons."

"I don't understand, do you think War Hawk is responsible or Spencer?"

"Spencer." He replied.

"Ahhh, I see, you think Spencer's men held up the army wagon and sold the guns to the Indians? Why would they do that, surely they could get a better price than what the Indians could pay."

"Spencer ain't what you'd call friendly like to blue coats; you see he and his men wore the Confederate gray in the War Between the States. War Hawk is of like mind; that is not being on the best of terms with the US Cavalry. Verdon Spencer wants to make sure them renegades stay on his side of the fence, unloading a wagon of army trinkets in the chief's lap is a guarantee of that. He don't want a cash payment for the goods. There be other ways to settle a debt Cassie Girl. I paid a little visit to the chief's camp. I tried to convince him it would be in his best interest and that of his people to steer clear of Spencer and those Army rifles. "

"Do you think he listened to you?"

Gabe shook his head, "Time will tell Lass, but I'm not making any bets on it."

He gave me a gentle poke to the ribs and pointed to Flossie and Parm who were talking under the boughs of a blossoming apple tree. We watched as Parm plucked a flower and placed it in Flossie's hair. "I can't for the life of me figure those two out. There was a time they were closer than two peas in a pod. Something happened to scare Parm off, I'm guessing," Gabe said. "I reckon some folks are afraid to follow their heart."

Those were strange words to hear from a lawman's lips, and I stared at him wondering what prompted his thinking before asking, "Are you afraid to follow your heart Sheriff?"

"I'm thinking a feller is always a little afraid of something he don't be knowing nothing about."

"That wasn't an answer Gabe."

"Tis all the answer you'll be getting out of the likes of me Cassie Girl."

GS GS GS GS

I'd been in town three weeks when I met Verdon Spencer. It was closing time, Flossie and Old Georgie had already gone to bed, and the other girls were entertaining in their rooms. It was just Ferd and I in the main saloon, he struggling over his bookwork and I getting a head start on my morning's chores. I had just put the last chair atop the final table when the doors to the saloon swung open.

A large man of undetermined age was standing at the threshold. His face was framed by a mangy beard the color of dirty snow, his cheeks and forehead were tanned brown and weathered like a piece of old leather. He wore a black and white spotted cowhide vest, and carried a pair of six-shooters strapped to his hips.

Ferd, not bothering to look up from his ledger work, said, "Go away we're closed."

The man at the door way grunted. "I'd be careful who you send a way Kutz."

His pencil clattered to the bar as Ferd looked up at the sound of the voice. "Mr. Sp-Spencer," he stuttered. "Of course you're welcomed here. Come in, Come in. You puss, take a chair down for Mr. Spencer." Ferd motioned nervously to me and I did as he ordered without question.

"What's your pleasure Mr. Spencer?" Ferd continued. "It's on the house. Whatever you want, just name it."

With out much grace he plopped himself in the chair, "A couple glasses and a bottle of your best whiskey, will do for a start."

Ferd gave me a warning look as he set up the tray and handed it to me.

"Bring it over here and be quick about it Little Missy."

My nose curled up in disgust as I placed the tray in front of him. He smelled. It was the stomach-churning stink of someone who never washed. I made a move away from him, but he grabbed my wrist before I was able to escape. "Sit down and pour." I did as he commanded filling one of the glasses to the brim. He nodded at the empty one. "What's the matter Missy, think you're too good to be drinking with Verdon Spencer?" He squeezed tighter, making my fingers tingle with pain. I looked into his eyes and saw the ugly truth.

It scared me for I had no doubt Spencer had more in mind than sharing a bottle of cheap whiskey with me. His eyes rested on my exposed bosom, as he wet his lips. I made a move to pull away from him. "Look." I said, "You got your whiskey, that's all I'm selling."

"I ain't buying Missy, didn't you hear old Ferd? It's all on the house." He jerked my arm forcing me onto his lap. With one hand he pinned my arms behind my back while his other started working its way up my leg, my struggle only increased his access to my body. I screamed for help, but my cry was muffled as his foul smelling mouth covered mine.

I thought for sure he was going to take me right there in the saloon room with Ferd standing watch. I closed my eyes tight willing my mind to another place, even as his calloused hands ripped at the bodice of my gown.

"Get your hands off my woman!" A familiar voice boomed from the batwing doors. "Or I'll be taking great pleasure in decorating the floor with your remains!" At the sound of the lawman's voice Spencer stood up causing me to tumble from his lap to the floor.

My attacker's voice changed in tone and demeanor from the aggressor to victim. "Why Gabriel had I known this little Missy was yours I'd never a touched a hair on her head."

Sheriff Maxwell directed his remarks to me. "Get up off that floor Cassie Girl and take to your room, I'll be visiting you directly."

I scrambled from the floor and ran out of the room slamming doors as I escaped. Once inside my room I leaned against the pine wood door trying to catch my breath. Two doors and a hallway separated me from the main room of the saloon but I could still hear the voices of Gabe and Spencer although I couldn't make out the words.

I was confused, was the town talk correct, was Gabe really in cahoots with the outlaw? This didn't make any sense. More confusing still was the Sheriff claiming me as his woman.

My exhaustion was both emotional and physical and the strain pulled tight against my nerves. The only light in the narrow room came from the moonbeams filtering through the cheap muslin curtains. When my heart rate had reached a degree of normalcy I moved from the door and made my cautious way to the rickety table beside my bed. There atop the rough surface, I kept the tin containing my candle and matches. I lit the wick surprised to see despite my shaky emotions my hand held steady. I glanced at the cracked mirror hanging over the table. After the day I'd been through I expected to see an old woman's reflection staring back. I was startled to see I much more resembled a scared little girl.

I changed from the saloon dress to a nightgown and pulled my hair free from its pins. I took some comfort in the feel of Bessie Roniger's brush in my hand. I brushed until my head hurt, and still I heard the voices coming from the front saloon. I was tempted to creep from my room to stand in the hallway just to hear what they were talking about. I reminded myself it was of no matter to me. My only concern was saving my own neck. Let Gabe Maxwell and Rubicon take care of themselves.

I must have fallen asleep for the next thing I knew Gabe was gently shaking me awake. "Cassie Girl, I need to be talking with you." I sat up with a start. Relief and gratefulness spurred my response. I threw my arms around the lawman's neck and pulled him close. His arms were tentative at first to return my embrace, as though he were weighing the wisdom of the union. It took a full beat before he did.

Like two lost spirits in search of a home, we remained locked together. It was Gabe who broke the bond. He closed his eyes and calmed his breathing. "This isn't the way it's going to be Lass. I've a job I must be doing."

The chill of the night air rushed over me. I grieved for the loss of physical contact with a living soul. I shivered with the cold of the words I'd heard repeated by another man standing behind a badge. I'd been a fool before, but I'd never be again. I had no room in my heart for lawmen, especially those who sided with a renegade like Verdon Spencer. I took aim with my words, "Is that what you were doing out there, making plans for a job with a killer."

He flinched and I knew I'd hit my mark, "I was doing what this badge of mine tells me to do."

I squared my shoulders, and spoke with haughty conviction, "Then you should have arrested him, you said yourself you knew he was an outlaw. Isn't that what that badge tells you to do? Keep the law?"

"No Cassie girl, this badge is for keeping the peace. I'm only one man. There's no way I could be keeping the lid on this town if I arrested Verdon Spencer. His men would come into Rubicon and burn it to the ground."

"That's not true, Parm Harris would stand behind you, and there are others too, I know it."

"Sure there are, girl and they'd be killed for the effort. Ed Jenkins has already lost a son, how can I ask him to be risking more? Buck and Charlie, they got families depending on them; Parm's little girls lost their Ma, they can't lose him too. Cassie I'm telling you it's not worth the gamble. It's not worth seeing good men die. Now, I've got something that needs to be discussed with you, but I can see this isn't the right time. Get yourself a goodnight's sleep; things will look clearer in the morning."

He made a move to kiss my forehead, but then thought better of it. He straightened his spine and our eyes locked. I tried to read his thoughts as I'd tried so many times with Matt, but I could not.