Chapter 20:
She woke with a start. The images that had made her faint, haunted her in her dreams. She was no longer laying on the dust covered floor of the upturned room. They had placed her on a bed. One of better quality than the ones she had seen around the fort so far. She listened, nothing seemed to move, everything was still. All she heard was the sound of rain, steadily coming down from the heavens. Moving her head toward the open window, the glass missing, and the frame rotting, she watched the faded and torn red curtain dance in the cool wind. The violent storm had moved, and had left a gloomy, grey day.
Holding a trembling hand to her forehead, she slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. Carefully resting her back against the iron framed headboard. It was only then that she noticed the little boy she had seen before, sitting on the foot end of her bed. His sky blue eyes gazing at her intently, his knees tucked under his chin. She blinked in surprise.
"Hello again.." she said softly. The boy didn't answer. "Where's your mother?"
"She was the one who told me to sit here and keep an eye on you. So that's what I'm doing." The boy replied.
"I see." Eleanor replied, still trying to regain her bearings after having been unconscious for a while. She cleared her throat, looking around the room. An old rusty wood stove stood in the corner, giving out a pleasant and welcome heat. A kettle, filled with water, produced thin clouds of steam. There was a faded Aztec patterned carpet on the floor, one that had seen better days. The wooden closet that stood tall against the mudstone wall, seemed out of place, and put there by someone who didn't care about decoration that matched its surroundings. Crudely crafted wooden shelves were nailed against the mudstone, littered with books, gemstones, coins she didn't recognize, and several tin and copper items. It was an odd looking collection of curiosities she hadn't seen before, and seemed to hold no particular theme. The room had no door, just a long, colourful curtain hanging in the doorway. "Who's room is this?"
"My mother's." The boy answered. "But she said she won't sleep until the evil spirit leaves anyway."
She frowned. "Evil spirit?"
The boy nodded, and shrugged. "That's what White Feather calls him anyway. She also says I have his eyes."
Smiling weakly, the mysterious Evil Spirit identified, Eleanor nodded. "You do.."
At that moment, the curtain that made the door, was pushed aside, and Rosa entered. The orphaned baby, now wrapped in much cleaner and better looking blankets, held tightly against her chest. "You're up." She stated. "Bueno. How are you feeling?" Her question felt like an impatient form of politeness, like she was in too much of a hurry to inquire about her wellbeing.
Swallowing thickly, Eleanor ignored the half meant question. "Did he kill him?" she asked, dreading the answer. She feared she would never forget the gruesome sight of Butch cutting off the man's ears, and God knows what else while she was out. She realized, now more than ever, that her dream about Evans, had not been caused by her hallucinating brain.
Rosa regarded her impassively for a moment, before turning toward her son. "Emilio, go see if White Feather needs your help with something."
The boy, stubborn as a young mule, huffed in annoyance. "She never needs help with anything!" he protested.
Rosa clicked her tongue and reached out to grab the child by his arm, pulling him off the bed roughly. "You do as I tell you! Andale! Now!" She pushed him toward the door, moving her arm in wild movements, awakening the infant in her arms. She waited till the boy's footsteps could be heard shuffling down the staircase, before speaking. "He did not kill him." she said matter of factly, impatiently hushing the fussy baby. "I stopped him in time."
"Why?" Eleanor asked. "Not that I.. agree with murder but, you had every reason to have him killed. And you said you wanted him dead."
"People say a lot of things when they're hurt." Rosa stated calmly, gently smiling at the calming child. "I decided a long time ago, that within these four walls, there would be no killing."
"Not even by Mr. Cavendish.." Eleanor asked softly, the question rhetorical.
"He knows better than to cross me." Rosa answered, sitting down on the side of the bed now the baby had gone back to sleep. She gazed at the young woman, studying her quietly. "He carried you up here." She continued, her voice void of any emotion. "And stayed at your side until it was clear you would be fine."
A little embarrassed, Eleanor looked away. "Yes, well. He's seen demonstrated before I can't last an hour by himself out here. He probably thought I'd manage to anger another mob of people just laying here by myself."
Rosa laughed. Her smile warming up her gaunt face, making her look much younger. "I'm sure that's why he did it."
A silence fell between them, until the boy's voice could be heard down in the courtyard, calling the dogs for their breakfast. The Native woman named White Feather had obviously found a chore for him to do. Eleanor opened her mouth to ask something, but Rosa beat her to it.
"Emilio is his son.." She said. "That was what you were going to ask, wasn't it?"
Eleanor bit her lip. "Does he know?"
"Neither of them knows. I want it to stay that way. I don't want Emilio to grow up with the idea he's the son of murderer and a whore. And I don't want Cavendish to never show his face in here again. I know I would never see him again, if I told him about it." Rosa explained, shrugging it away.
Saddened by the woman's explanation, Eleanor forced herself to be optimistic. Like her mother had taught her to do so, when dealing with another person's problems or insecurities. "He might surprise you." She suggested.
Rosa only smiled, almost genuinely. "He always does."
Eleanor returned the woman's smile shyly, unsure of what to say. She didn't know Butch as well as Rosa did, and she wasn't sure Butch wanted her to know him any better than she did now. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to know him better. The things she had seen him do last night, were nothing short of the kind of horror stories her grandfather used to tease her with before he lost the ability to speak. About desert ghosts, roaming around the empty plains, waiting for inexperienced trappers and cowboys, to lead them onto a false trail. They looked like fog, and could make you lose your way.
"You've known him for a long time, haven't you?" Eleanor asked. Rosa nodded, looking around the room.
"I was much younger than you are now when I first met him. He was still travelling with his older brother back then." She explained, her expression vacant, musing on memories Eleanor knew nothing about. "I still remember the day they came here with their saddle bags full of silver." She continued, getting up from the bed to pick up a glistening rock from one of the shelves. "I was too young to realize it's worthless here." She handed Eleanor the heavy stone. "But it makes for an interesting looking thing to have in your room, doesn't it?" she laughed bitterly.
Eleanor toyed with the rock in her hands for a moment. "He mentioned his brother to me only once. But when I asked about it, he told me to drop the subject." She shrugged lightly. "Evans mentioned silver the day he attacked me."
"Yes, Cavendish told me all about you and dear old Evans. That pendejo got what was coming to him. You're not the first woman he attacked." Rosa spoke, letting her fingers roam over the titles written on the backs of the various books on the shelves. "Ah, here it is." Careful not to disturb the row of old books, she picked one up. "I take it you can read?"
Eleanor looked up in surprise. "Yes, I can."
"Bueno." Rosa smiled, handing her a dusty copy of Charles Dickens' David Copperfield. "You know it?"
Eleanor shook her head, her beaming smile visible as she opened the cover. "No, I know the title from the catalogue at the General Store in Colby. But mother thought it to be too expensive to order." She browsed through the pages. "Where did you get this?"
Rosa smiled mischievously. "How many outlaws do you think can pay me in coins? This isn't Red's, you know. Men pay me with whatever they have of some value." She gestured toward the shelves. "Hence the collection." She chuckled, gazing at the girl kindly. "I want you to have that book. It will keep you company, and take your mind away from the harsh reality whenever you want to escape."
Still unable to hide her smile, Eleanor held the book tightly against her chest. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."
The woman nodded, shifting the baby in her arms. "Get some rest. If we have to believe Cavendish, you'll be on your way tomorrow morning. But I've known him long enough to know that can change any time." She turned to leave.
"If you see him." Eleanor started. "Could you ask him to come to me for a moment?"
Standing in the doorway, Rosa smiled. "I'll tell him as soon as he wakes up. He's resting now. When we released Jed they started fighting like dogs, like coyotes." She chuckled. "He's getting old. Not as fast as he used to be." She winked at the girl playfully.
Feeling her stomach turn, Eleanor's eyes had gotten wide as saucers. "But he.. he's alright?" she asked carefully. Amused, Rosa chuckled at the young woman's worried expression.
"I wouldn't be surprised if he got his nose broken again." She sat, tapping the side of her nose. "It wouldn't be the first time. Don't worry, Chiquita. It's nothing he can't handle. Get some rest." Still chuckling, Rosa left, leaving the girl behind in the colourful room.
She was left to herself and her reading for most of the day. The fort awakened slowly, every man plagued by their own hangover. But soon the place started smelling like breakfast, and the feast at the long wooden tables started over again, the events of the night before seemed completely forgotten. The music returned, and so did the playing of children and barking of dogs. Some men left, she listened to them saddling their horses, stampeding out of the courtyard in large groups. Other men arrived, and the women on the balconies called out to them excitingly. But the room she had been given, was secluded, and safe from everything that went down in the rest of the fort. White Feather had come in later to bring her a tray of food, and had lingered in her room, folding laundry, talking in her native language. Eleanor was unable to follow her stories, but appreciated the woman's efforts to make herself understandable anyway.
The gentle buzz of the courtyard had caused her to doze off eventually, her book on her chest. Slumbering only lightly, she woke with a start at the sound of heavy footsteps, accompanied by clicking spurs that jangled eerily with every step. Someone dragged themselves up the staircase to Rosa's private quarters in a slow, strenuous manner. As she sat up to receive this unknown visitor, a tired looking Butch pulled the curtain aside to step into her room. His right eye a dark, angry purple that reached till the bridge of his bruised nose.
"Oh my Lord, your face.." Eleanor mumbled a little too loudly, causing him to stop dead in his tracks with an offended expression.
"Hey now." He grumbled, his arms open. "Ah thought ye'd be used to mah ugly mug by now." Chuckling at her obvious embarrassment, he approached the bed in slow, swaying steps, and sat down on the side stiffly. "How we doin' in here, Sharky?" He asked with a gruff voice. "Quite a night, huh?"
"You broke your nose." She stated worriedly, gazing wide eyed at the serious mix of colours between his vibrant blue eyes. He didn't seem upset by her statement, and returned her wild stare with a tired expression, blinking slowly.
"Yea, probably." He confirmed. "It's fine. I just can't blow mah nose for a while, that's all." He sniffed lightly, and winced against the sharp pain. "Can't do that neither." He chuckled.
She reached out but hesitated, withdrawing her hand again, unsure of how he would react to her touch. He followed her every movement, but made no comment. "Did you take anything for the pain yet?" she asked quietly. "Or have Barret look at it."
"He looked at it and said it was broken." Butch explained. "If you think my face looks bad, ye should have seen Jed's" He chuckled gruffly.
She could only imagine what the man looked like now, and made a face at the images her brain cooked up for her. "Rosa told me you two fought." She spoke quietly. "But you didn't kill him."
"Close enough.." He mumbled, looking down at the blood stained cuffs of his sleeves. "Ah probably would have if he hadn't punched me square in the mug. Made me see stars." He chuckled, slightly embarrassed. "Ah've never been much good in a fistfight."
She gazed at him quietly, noticing how tired he looked, even after resting for a good few hours. "She also said you wanted to leave tomorrow morning. Are you sure you're well enough for that?" He narrowed his eyes at her, smiling lightly.
"Whut's all this sudden worry about now, Sharky?" He asked suspiciously. "ye been talkin' te Rosa for too long. She's been treatin' me like ahm Father Time himself." He pushed himself up from the bed, slightly agitated. "Ahm fine. Ye need te worry about sumthin' ye worry about yerself. Yer the one getting' in trouble all the damn time."
She huffed, offended. "Getting in trouble is not very hard for a woman in a place like this." she started. "If you hadn't left me to my own defence, because you needed to lay with a woman so badly, I wouldn't have gotten in trouble."
Setting his hands in his side, he shifted his weight, gazing at her in mild surprise. "Is that what this is about now?" He grumbled. "Ye got yer feathers ruffled because of a damn whore?" His tone had gotten slightly darker, but not enough to let her know she was going too far. He took a step toward the bed. "Well, next tahm ah feel like..layin' with a woman.. I'll just come te you instead, how's that? That way ah don't need te leave yer side for one damn minute."
"That is not the point at all!" She protested, feeling herself grow red. "I.. I'm simply talking about.. stating priorities! You blame me for getting into trouble, but you could have easily avoided that by using your influence around here to just.. lock me away in a room!"
"Ah took ye for smart enough not te go and mess around with men like Jed out there!" He barked, getting angry. "Ah thought ye learned yer damn lesson after Evans! Why the hell did ye stray away from Frank anyway?! Ye two are two peas in a pot, why would ye go around and play the explorer in a place like this?!"
"Don't you blame him for what happened to me!" She shot back in Frank's defence. "Atleast he didn't pay for a woman's goods!"
He was silent for a moment, and she knew she had crossed the line. His breathing had gotten heavy and almost laboured. He looked away from her, nodding to himself, his rage building slowly. "Ye gettin' mouthy with me, yer gonna regret it." He warned. She looked away from his piercing glare, and pursed her lips in anger. She didn't know where these feelings of humiliation and offense came from. "I already regret many things, Mr. Cavendish." She said.
"Is that so now?" he took another threatening step to the bed. "Well maybe I should just heed everyone's advice and leave ye here then. Make ye someone else's problem. Cause ahm gettin' mighty tired of it anyhow!" In a flash of anger he kicked over a small table serving as nightstand, sending it flying across the room. She shrank away from the flying pieces of broken furniture, hiding her face. "Tired of runnin' from those damn rangers, tired of thinkin' about that damn ranch!" He paced through the room furiously. "And tired of you!" He hissed menacingly, turning to leave.
"Wait!" she called after him, feeling panic rising in the pit of her stomach. She tried to get out of bed, but her legs refused to support her weight. She grabbed the metal bedframe to keep herself from falling, clinging to it miserably as he marched down the wooden staircase. "You're not going to leave me here, are you?!" He didn't answer. Unable to walk, she sank back down onto the old matrass, trying to calm herself. She shivered, wearing nothing but her chemise. He had every right to do as he pleased, and it wasn't her place to criticize his choices, but somehow the fact he had left her there on the balcony alone to visit Rosa had offended her greatly.
Down in the courtyard, she could hear Butch bark orders at his gang, but none of the members replied in clear ways. The moment she heard a horse neigh, she got up from the bed and stumbled to the window, just in time to watch the gang leader chase his mare out of the courtyard and into the vast open desert. None of his men followed, and she could see Barret and Ray watch their leader leave the fort on breakneck speed.
Completely forgetting she was wearing nothing but her chemise, she stumbled out of the room and down the wooden staircase into the courtyard, almost tripping over her own uncooperative feet, she marched up to Barret with a shocked expression, ignoring the hollering and catcalling of the outlaws surrounding them. "Where is he going?!" she asked, panic in her voice. The army surgeon seemed mildly surprised at her sudden appearance and was just in time to grab her before she fell to the dusty ground.
"You shouldn't be out of bed." Barret mumbled with a half meant tone. "What the hell happened between you two?"
That was a good question. It had all happened so very fast, it now seemed a blur to her memory. Concentrating on her breathing for a moment, in an attempt to calm herself, she got slightly more aware of her surroundings. The cool breeze playing with the hem of her torn underdress, and the thick smell of roasted meats and spices. A little more steady on her feet, she gently let go of Barret's arm, but he didn't release his iron grip around her waist. "I.. I made a mistake.. I said something I shouldn't have said. I don't even know why I said it but.. I made him angry.."
As Barret listened to her story, Frank joined in, followed by Skinny and Jesus. "Whut's goin' on? Where's Butch goin?" He asked. Barret didn't answer right away as he allowed the young woman to cry into his shoulder, a slightly uncomfortable expression on his face. "Stop asking questions, and get Rosa, you Goofball." He grumbled at the young outlaw, who nodded and went to look for the woman immediately.
"Is alright now, miss Hartley." Skinny tried, patting Eleanor on her back carefully. "Ah'll go and make ye some coffee, that'll make ye feel better." Barret rolled his eyes at the bearded young man, but was glad to see he had given himself a task that involved leaving.
"What did you say to him?" The army surgeon's question reached her numbed mind slowly, and she frowned in contemplation. While he waited for her answer, Rosa walked up to them in a calm and collected manner, much different from when the baby's mother had been killed.
"I told him.." Eleanor started, but hesitated when she noticed Rosa. "I don't mean to offend anyone.." She pleaded. "I'm so sorry." Rosa ignored her, and placed a hand to the girl's forehead. "She's burning up." She stated. "We need to get her upstairs."
"I'm gonna feel this in the morning." Barret protested, picking up the barely conscious girl. "Alright now, little lady. There just aint no rest for the wicked, is there?"
"Miss Rosa.." Eleanor started weakly, reaching out to the woman, who took her hand gently while following Barret up the staircase. "He left because of me."
"Don't worry about it, chica." Rosa smiled. "He'll be back. Let him ride off the liquor in the desert if he wants to. Much better than causing trouble at my tables." She joked for the girl's sake.
Gently placing her back on the bed, Barret sat down on the side to feel her pulse. "If you're sick, you've been sick for a while and you've been hiding it very well from the rest of us." He told her. "If you're not sick, you're just exhausted and people can say a lot of crazy things when they're overtired. Trust me, I've been in the trenches. I've seen men ramble about the maddest shit after four days of no sleep."
Eleanor was quiet, his words barely making sense to her. Turning her head to the window, a flash of lightning could be seen in the distance. Another thunderstorm promised its presence for the coming night, the rain season had begun. "I'm scared of thunder.." she confessed weakly. "I just wanted him to stay with me."
Barret said nothing, and looked at Rosa for help, but she looked just as impassive. "Get some rest, Eleanor." He mumbled, pushing himself off the bed. "I'll get her some laudanum to help her sleep."
Rosa waited till he had left before taking his place on the side of the bed, gently resting her hand to the girl's cheek, caressing her skin with her thumb. "Chiquita.." she whispered affectionately, watching the girl slowly tear up miserably. "Whatever you said to him, I'm sure he was just as surprised as you are." She chuckled, reaching out to brush away the girl's tears.
"Do you want to know what I said to him?" Eleanor mumbled, staring at the ceiling.
"No." Rosa spoke calmly. "You and him can keep your secrets."
"I offended you too.. in what I said to him. I told him I wouldn't have gotten hurt if he hadn't decided to pay for a woman." The girl continued.
Rosa just chuckled. "Well.. if it changes anything, miss Eleanora.. I don't think his mind was with me that night."
R&R Please!
