A good person is like a good gun: Reliable to the Last.
"I ain't no angel, if that's whacher thinkin'," Addy said.
Roland blinked at her. "I may not be dead, but I'm not putting money against you being an angel."
As she handed him his hat and said, "Might not fit no more, yer head all swelled'n all," he managed a chuckle.
"A swollen head is a problem I've had most of my life," he said, accepting the headwear gratefully. He set it upon his crown gingerly, not wanting to exacerbate his abrasions.
He nodded at her plan to leave the dead here, then winced at the resulting wave of pain. "Good plan," he agreed.
He had already had some unpleasant mental images of carrying the corpses with them, thinking of the bloating and gasses and flies that must surely follow from the day's events. So he was glad to simply report them to the authorities. Bringing the horses made equal sense to him. Not only did he want to care for the animals to make sure they survived this unfortunate encounter... but they were surely worth quite a bit of money as well.
These bastards would have surely taken his and Addy's horses and sold them for profit. He didn't have any squeamishness about returning the favor. If that's how things worked here. It might be impolitic to rob your robbers... he wasn't sure what the local customs were.
Roland gratefully accepted Addy's help in getting his gear, his horse, and helping him back to the wagon. His gaze lingered briefly on the splintered sidewall of the wagon, where buckshot had missed him by inches. The first of many near-death scrapes encapsulated in a sequence that lasted less than fifteen minutes. It was amazing how one could go years of their lives without any real danger, and then find it heaped into piles all at once. It was as though you saved up hazards in a vault, and they decided when they'd be withdrawn.
Surprise! It's the Reaper! Have a dance!
Well, he'd danced, and thankfully he'd had a good partner at his side. And so they'd live to dance again.
Addy handed him a paper, declaring, ""One'a 'em had this. Can't read."
Roland had no comment about her lack of literacy. Nearly half of everyone couldn't read, as far as he knew. It wasn't much different in England among common folk, and especially women. He unfolded the page, staring at the letters on the page. They swam and danced before his eyes. Apparently, his bell was still ringing a bit. "It seems I can't read either, at the moment. Perhaps once this headache has died down."
He folded it back up and pocketed it before slouching tiredly in the bench at the front of the wagon.
"I think I'd be dead right now if not for you," he confessed, his eyes half-lidded. He'd heard somewhere that it was bad to sleep if you'd taken a hard hit to the head. He forced himself to stay awake, but it wasn't much of a wakefulness. The ride became an extended daydream. Miles and hours mixed until he became suddenly aware that they were stopping somewhere, and it was late in the day.
He blinked, not remembering the time between now and the firefight. The whole day had just melted away and now he was at the end of it. His head didn't ache as it had before. He reached up to touch the back of his head. Sensitive, but not quite fresh. Blood had crusted hard over the wound.
"I'm afraid I drifted off for a while," he said, turning to look at Addy, "but I think I'm feeling better. I'm thirsty. And... I'm hungry, too."
His eyes lounged on her form, and he realized other appetites had returned, as well. He felt it all more sharply than usual. Perhaps the act of escaping death was a whetstone to desire.
Sit down, shut up, don't touch anythin'
"It seems I can't read either, at the moment. Perhaps once this headache has died down."
"Can let th' law take a look at it when we get ta town," she commented, climbing onto the box beside him, then gathering the lines and starting on their journey again. Ideally, she would like to roll into town and head to a saloon for a drink, but that wasn't to be, and just another fact of life to be taken in stride.
"I think I'd be dead right now if not for you,"
"Ya'd be back in Oakdale, eatin' Mrs. Lynn's chickin' an' dumplin's an' wishin' you was dead!" Addy chuckled, and then they fell into a companionable silence before Roland fell asleep. His regular breathing assured her that she was alive, although she knew that if she couldn't get him to come around at the station, they'd have to continue into Kalispell, to the doctor, and that would not be a pleasant trip. Fortunately, he stirred as they arriv
"I'm afraid I drifted off for a while," he said, turning to look at Addy, "but I think I'm feeling better. I'm thirsty. And... I'm hungry, too."
"Well, this is th' place, climb on down an' I'll get a fire an' some coffee goin'." At least water would be easy. "Supper won't be much, but it'll be somethin'." She managed a grin as she moved around to help him down. Inside, she'd have to get out blankets, get him settled, start that fire, clean up his head...and then she'd have to unhitch the team, get the horses groomed and fed, collapse in exhaustion...
Just another day!
A good person is like a good gun: Reliable to the Last.
"Well, this is th' place, climb on down an' I'll get a fire an' some coffee goin'. Supper won't be much, but it'll be somethin'."
"Well," Roland replied as he dismounted from the Wagon, "I am a beggar ill-suited to be a chooser at the moment. I shall take whatever repast is available in gratitude."
He'd treat himself to a well-cooked meal when they got to town. Meanwhile, putting anything in his belly would be a boon. But Roland did not intend to let Addy do all the work herself. He wasn't sure where the job of a wagoner ended. Was she responsible for his meals and comfort beyond the freight? Regardless, it didn't matter to him. He was grateful enough to take an active part in the tasks at hand.
"If you'll trust me with it," he said, "I'd be happy to get the horses situated, watered, fed, and brushed while you work on our coffee and... whatever meal can be managed. I'd offer to cook, but then we'd both be sorrier for it."
He smiled and nodded encouragingly, "Good English schools teach horsemanship. I assure you, I am no novice."
He followed the offer by tapping his temple and smiling, "And I promise, the lingering sound of my bell being rung has faded. I'm quite myself, now."
Perhaps he'd overstated his recovery somewhat, but he really was feeling much better. Better enough to walk obedient horses to somewhere they probably wanted to be.
Some Time Later...
Roland sat down next to one of Addy's big horses, having put forth as much effort in tending it and the others as she would allow. He was tired, but found that tending to the horses was oddly meditative. The repetitive motions of brushing them down was its own kind of mantra, such as the Yogis of the East might employ. Caring for other living creatures- feeding them, cleaning them- it reconnected him to his sense of empathy. He'd killed men today. A necessary act, but not one he wished to see leave a permanent mark on his soul. This chore helped keep him from dwelling on it, reminding him that life was more about living than it was about brief moments of bloody violence.
Something was cooking in the station. He could smell it. At this point, it wouldn't matter what she was putting on offer. He'd eat twigs and acorns and call it steak. But he wondered if he shouldn't get cleaned up so that he wouldn't offend Addy with his increasingly pungent person. There was some soap among his things. He decided to go get some, and a change of clothes from his luggage. After some rummaging around, he found the soap but not the change of clothes. Things had been loaded for space efficiency, not ease of access.
Well, he'd take what he could get. Taking the soap, he found a washing tub, and filled it with water. Then he got in- finding it a bit more cramped of a thing than he'd prefer and quite a bit colder. Well, it was good enough to make him cleaner and more presentable. He kept his shirt for the bath, thinking to wash it while he washed himself.
Sit down, shut up, don't touch anythin'
At first, Addy was inclined to refuse to let him handle the horses, mostly because of the blow on his head, but also because she was hesitant to let anyone handle her horses. But apparently his brief nap had done some good, and Addy really wasn't looking forward to another hour or so of work, so she relented with a nod and went into the small station.
Starting a fire didn't take too much work, nor did drawing some water from the outside pump and getting that heated for coffee. While she wasn't much of a cook, she could make a mean cup of coffee. While that was brewing, she rummaged through the cabinets and through their own stores to come up with something that would make a decent meal.
She heard Roland come in, but then he was out again, so while supper was stewing she set about getting a couple of the cots ready with blankets, allowing as how it looked so inviting, and she could just as easily drop down and sleep right now!
With supper finally ready -- an odd stew of pork rasher, potatoes, beans and onions seasoned with salt, garlic and sage, as well as some bread she'd gotten before leaving town, and some canned peaches -- she went looking for Roland, striding onto the front porch to find him lounging in an old water trough!
"Oh! Glory be! Didn't mean ta intrude on yer evenin' constitutions!" Chuckling, she turned her back to him. "When yer ready, suppers on!"
Still snickering to herself, she went back into the cabin and kicked off her boots.
A good person is like a good gun: Reliable to the Last.
Roland went a bit wider-eyed and dipped himself deeper into the soapy water as Addy came out to notify him that dinner was ready.
Once she'd withdrawn, he hurriedly took off his soaking shirt, soaping it and himself and then soaking and squeezing it out. With that accomplished, he rose out of the tub and put the shirt on a protruding beam to drip and dry. He had no towel, so he let gravity and the wind have its way with his skin for a bit before he got the rest of his clothes back on. When he finally attended the evening repast, he'd have his vest on without an undershirt, but it was at least half-way decent. Certainly moreso than their last encounter.
"I hope you'll forgive me," he said as he joined her, "I wanted to wash some of the day's less pleasant accumulation of odors away before sitting beside you at supper."
He added, "Sadly, I was not able to launder my clothes, beyond giving my shirt the same bath that I managed for myself. But there was no time to dry it."
Roland looked at the food Addy had put together for them. There had been little doubt that the meal they enjoyed tonight would be improvised with whatever materials were on hand in this place, but Roland was surprised to note that she'd done quite well within those limitations. Indeed, everything smelled inviting. It would not compare to the meal he'd have in a day's time, but for now it might as well have been mana from heaven, especially with the ravenous hunger he'd developed.
"Everything looks wonderful," he complimented Addy, and lighted his gaze upon her bright eyes before beginning to eat. He used fewer table manners than was appropriate for a gentleman, but he wasn't in a state to care as much as he usually might.
"I'd be happy to refill that tub for you if you'd like a bath of your own," he told her between bites, chews, and swallows, "...and then I could stumble upon you, if you wanted to level-out the earlier awkwardness."
He lifted his gaze from the food again, a suggestion alight in his eyes that showed even fewer manners than his avid consumption of the evening meal.
Sit down, shut up, don't touch anythin'
"I hope you'll forgive me," he said as he joined her, "I wanted to wash some of the day's less pleasant accumulation of odors away before sitting beside you at supper."
"Don't need no forgivin' fer providin' a lady with a bit'a art," Addy countered with a sly grin. Of course, she hadn't really seen anything, and she didn't need bath water to imagine what might be lurking below!
He added, "Sadly, I was not able to launder my clothes, beyond giving my shirt the same bath that I managed for myself. But there was no time to dry it."
Addy laughed. "I grew up with eight brothers, I'm pretty much immune ta aromas, an' when ya get ta town, ya can take a proper bath in rose water, an' smell real sweet!"
"Everything looks wonderful,"
"Looks..." She grinned, although she was confident that the meal would be filling, if not palatable!
"I'd be happy to refill that tub for you if you'd like a bath of your own," he told her between bites, chews, and swallows, "...and then I could stumble upon you, if you wanted to level-out the earlier awkwardness."
"That right?" Looking at him for a moment, she raised an eyebrow then chuckled. "Why am I gettin' th' feelin' that ya want me outta my union suit? Gotta warn ya, th' only gent that gets that honor'd hafta be married ta me, an' I don't allow as how we have that much alcohol here!"
A good person is like a good gun: Reliable to the Last.
"Don't need no forgivin' fer providin' a lady with a bit'a art," Addy jested, and Roland smiled.
"Well, I'm sure Michelangelo would have a bit more chiseling to do, in my case," Roland's wink accompanied his reply.
Addy once more mentioned her large family, and Roland was reminded of why she might be so formidable. With only brothers for company most of the time, she'd be well inured to the tougher things in life. But it also explained a bit of her caring nature, for she would almost certainly have been tasked with tending to one or more of those brothers when they were young.
"...when ya get ta town," she added, "ya can take a proper bath in rose water, an' smell real sweet!"
Roland wasn't sure if she was serious or jesting. A rose-water bath sounded quite nice to him, actually, but he wouldn't want her thinking him a dandy. He supposed, though, that was a danger any Englishman might face in the colonial frontier.
Ex-colonial frontier, he reminded himself.
"Why am I gettin' th' feelin' that ya want me outta my union suit? Gotta warn ya, th' only gent that gets that honor'd hafta be married ta me, an' I don't allow as how we have that much alcohol here!"
Roland chuckled mischievously. "Union Suit? Why Addy, I thought you were with the Confederates?"
He leaned forward a bit, not having given up on his carnal notions. "Would you believe me if I told you Ember was a horse of the cloth? She would neigh deny us an evening's union, I'm sure."
He tried his most smoldering look, "Some people tie their knots and untie them at will. It saves the rope for future uses yet unimagined by either party. Though I can well imagine the knots we could tie for ourselves, Addy, if you were so inclined."
Sit down, shut up, don't touch anythin'
Addy laughed, she couldn't help it! Roland certainly was not from these parts! "Well, now, I reckon it didn't matter what side a body fought fer, he'd have his proper union suit!" She pulled up her skirts to her knees, revealing the red fleece covering her legs, and she'd unabashedly strip off her outer layer of clothes to show the whole of the one-piece suit, should she choose. She didn't!
"Warm an' comfortable, an' good fer sleepin' in, should th' need arise. It's surely well that yer pony can perform nuptials, an' we got plenty'a witnesses, but," she leaned forward then, looking him in the eye, "them knots, yer right, just might well tie into a noose, an' that'll leave ya hangin'!"
Oh, surely the man was, well, manly, but Addy had no hankering to tread that path again, it was just more trouble than she needed, especially now that she had two husbands in her past, and Weedy to take care of, and life was just as fine without that, and who needed to run the risk of wearing yer bustle wrong...well, if one was inclined to wear bustles!
A good person is like a good gun: Reliable to the Last.
"Well," Roland said with a chuckle, observing the hint of her underclothes as she briefly revealed them, "I still say the situation calls for a harsh interrogation." The British called the same underclothes 'combinations,' he supposed because more syllables were better.
At Addy's further answer to his indecent proposal, he held up a hand, "I surrender. My neck is long enough."
He smiled and returned his attention to his bowl, "But you should know I'll admire you always, Addy. I'll ever be grateful of being saved from banditry on the road... and from bad cooking in Oakdale." He grinned, alluding to her previous joke, "And if I live to be a hundred, I shall always fondly recall the fierce lady who saw me safely through from the edge of civilization to the edge of the frontier."
At least, he hoped that today's encounter was the end of the dangers they'd face. He couldn't imagine that anyone could survive out here if such things were a daily occurrence.
Speaking of which...
He reached into his pocket and took out the page he'd folded up before. Unfolding it, he found that the letters were crisp now that his head had stopped throbbing.
The image at the top of the page might have been any western frontiersman, for all the artistry and accuracy Roland found in the depiction. But the information below the image was intriguing. "It seems this is a Wanted advertisement for Roy Gruber, who is sought for numerous crimes, with a reward offered in the amount of one-hundred dollars." A substantial sum, considering a whiskey could be had for ten cents. Enough to buy a horse, if you didn't care how close it was to its glue-bearing years. Or several cows. Or even a wagon.
"Mr. Gruber is described as a frequent conspirator with the Barton brothers. Perhaps this describes the full cohort of three villains who assailed us on the road..."
He started to fold the paper back up, and noticed something on the reverse of the page. This was not printed information, but rather scrawled by a sloppy hand in pencil.
KALSPL EVGN $50 HIRE
Hmm. KALSPL could mean Kalispell. Roland wasn't sure what EVGN might mean. Evangeline? '$50 Hire' sounded like a job posting. Perhaps someone named Evangeline was hiring people for 50 dollars in Kalispell? And these brigands had decided to earn some ill-gotten-gains on the road to their employer?
It was a theory. He finished folding the document and pocketing it again.
"Do you know anyone named Evangeline in Kalispell?"
Sit down, shut up, don't touch anythin'
At Addy's further answer to his indecent proposal, he held up a hand, "I surrender. My neck is long enough."
"Leastways somethin's long," Addy muttered with a snarky grin and a wink.
"But you should know I'll admire you always, Addy. I'll ever be grateful of being saved from banditry on the road... and from bad cooking in Oakdale." He grinned, alluding to her previous joke, "And if I live to be a hundred, I shall always fondly recall the fierce lady who saw me safely through from the edge of civilization to the edge of the frontier."
"Hey now, ya ain't dead yet, me neither, there's plenty'a time ta get et by a bear or shot twixt th' eyes." Truth be told, not only did she not know how to accept flattery, but being seen as a woman was a threat to who she was -- just 'one of the boys'.
Fortunately, he changed the subject.
"It seems this is a Wanted advertisement for Roy Gruber, who is sought for numerous crimes, with a reward offered in the amount of one-hundred dollars."
"That so? Now, why don't that surprise me none?" Figured that this wasn't these men's first go at robbery, but they were probably not accustomed to their marks fighting back, and that had been their fatal mistake.
"Mr. Gruber is described as a frequent conspirator with the Barton brothers. Perhaps this describes the full cohort of three villains who assailed us on the road..."
"Could might be," Addy agreed. "Marshall Guyer might know more, I'll let 'im know what happened, an' we might have a reward ta split." Even fifty dollars was a good sum, and if there was no kin to be found, there were the horses and other belongings.
"Do you know anyone named Evangeline in Kalispell?"
"Evangeline?" Addy thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Can't say as I do, but I don't know every body in town by name. Sounds like somethin' one'a them saloon gals might use, all pretty an' fancy!" She chuckled, then shook her head. "Surely could use a belt'a whisky just about now!"