Роберт Паркер - The Bridge

“They are,” I said.

Virgil leaned over to me a little closer.

“Which one’s the fortune-teller lady?” Virgil said.

I shook my head.

“Don’t see her.”

Beauregard was wearing a fancy embroidered suit. He had on an expensive-looking hat, different from the one he was wearing when he rode into town. A fan of turkey feathers rose from one side. Next to Beauregard sat a beautiful young woman.

“Must be the wife Allie was talking about,” I said. “Nell.”

Virgil nodded slightly, looking at her.

Allie was right, Nell was real pretty; she was small, with delicate features, large brown eyes, and wispy blond hair that curled around her face like a delicately carved frame.

“Tender kindle,” he said.

“For ol’ Beauregard,” I said, “she damn sure is.”

“Pretty,” Virgil said.

“I’ll give you that,” I said.

After Ashley took advantage of sharing his political aspirations and views of the territory’s future to the captive audience of Appaloosa citizens, he turned his attention to the troupe gathered around him.

“Appaloosa is thrilled to have Beauchamp Brothers Theatrical Extravaganza here in the great growing city of Appaloosa. So without further ado.”

Ashley looked to Beauregard.

“That’s a word you show folks use, is it not?” Ashley said with a wiggle of his head. “Ado?”

Beauregard smiled a crooked smile under his big mustache and nodded a little.

“So without further ado,” Ashley said with a big grin, “please welcome the one and only Mr. Beauregard Beauchamp.”

Ashley stepped away and the crowd applauded as Beauregard took a few unsteady steps on his way to the lectern.

“Thank you, Appaloosa,” he said without a slur. “Thank you.”

Beauregard’s voice was huge and was taller than both Virgil and me. He was older than he appeared when we saw him riding into town on his horse. His long, dark hair and full mustache were dyed and it was apparent to both Virgil and me he was liquored up.

“Got a few posts missing,” Virgil said.

“He does,” I said.

“And thank you, Mayor, for welcoming us, we appreciate your kindness,” Beauregard said. “First, I’d like to say a big thank-you to the App... Appaloosa ladies’ social for helping us, as we get ready to bring Appaloosa some fun and excitement to your fantastic community, especially you, Miss French.”

“He’s seasoned,” I said.

“Yep,” Virgil said.

The crowd applauded again.

Allie was sitting in the front row, enamored with the happenings.

“With a little assistance from God above,” Beauregard said, “helping us clear out some of this intemperate, this inclement weather, the Extravaganza will be set up soon and under way.”

Beauregard looked to Ashley.

“If you, Reverend Epps, and your congregation would be so kind to help us out with some good old-fashion prayers. We...”

Beauregard gestured to his troupe.

“All of us,” he said, “would be most grateful.”

Ashley nodded and grinned.

“We’ll see what we can muster,” Ashley said.

Beauregard bowed a little, then turned back to the crowd.

“But we thought here tonight,” Beauregard said. “Prayers or no prayers, we tonight thought...”

Beauregard paused dramatically and then repeated.

“We tonight thought we’d take this opportunity to give you a little peek of what to expect.”

Beauregard looked to the musicians and nodded.

“Here’s a favorite tune of ours,” he said. “‘My Grandfather’s Cock’... CLOCK, I mean clock. ‘My Grandfather’s Clock .’”

The crowd clapped as the band members got to their feet and started playing the upbeat song.

“I know that face,” Virgil said.

“Beauregard?”

Virgil nodded as he looked at him intently.

The musicians were a lively group and they danced a little jig as they played. Beauregard held out his hand for Nell to come up. She stepped up and after the band got a few progressions out of the way she sang along. She was animated and expressive as she sang, and in no time at all she had the whole crowd singing along with the popular tune.

Beauregard stepped off to the side. He misstepped a little but caught his balance. He stood back and watched Nell proudly. He folded his arms across his ribs and smiled.

Virgil and I watched for a moment, then Virgil said, “I’ll be damned.”

“Remember?” I said.

“I do.”

“Where?”

“I’ll be damned,” Virgil said again.

“Gun hand?” I said.

Virgil shook his head.

“Snake-oil salesman.”

“That fits,” I said.

“Does,” he said, shaking his head a little.

“Where?”

“A time ago. Way before you and me started working together, before town work, even. I was working the big gambling room at the Menger Hotel in San Antone. He come around there, selling his remedies. Thought he was the cock of the walk. A young buck then, full of himself.”

Virgil stopped talking for a moment and just watched for a bit.

“One evening,” Virgil said, “he sat at the wrong gambling table. They caught him cheating. Rough bunch, they was gonna string him up...”

Beauregard took Nell by the hand between the verses of ‘My Grandfather’s Clock’ and the two of them danced along with the music.

“Looks like he still thinks of himself as the cock of the walk,” I said.

Virgil nodded a little.

“Drinking his remedies, too,” I said.

“I’ll be damned,” Virgil said. “That’s sure enough him. He was flashy back then, younger, but flashy. I locked him in a closet till the ruckus settled and the gamblers cleared.”

Virgil just shook his head from side to side a little.

“When I let him out he wanted to fight me,” Virgil said. “Best I remember, I slapped him a few times and kicked him out the back door and into the trash like the spindly miscreant he was.”

“Likely still is,” I said.

“Seems,” Virgil said.

The band played some more festive tunes with Nell singing along. Then the magician, Dr. Longfellow, performed a few disappearing-handkerchief tricks followed by the jester clown jugglers, who made the crowd roar with laughter. As soon as the little show finished up, Allie hurried up behind the lectern.

“Hello, everyone,” she said. “We, the ladies’ social of Appaloosa, want to let y’all know we have provided some refreshments, cookies and cakes and some lemon punch, so everybody stay, mingle with our special guests, and enjoy.”

The crowd did just that and the flock of folks gathered around the troupe as they worked their way to the table like cattle headed to feed.

Allie looked up, seeing Virgil and me standing at the back of the room, and scurried through the throng of people over to us.

“Oh, Everett,” Allie said, as she clamped her arms around me. “Thank God you are okay.”

“It’s okay, Allie,” I said.

Allie didn’t move; she just squeezed me harder, keeping her face nestled in my chest.

I looked to Virgil.

“I’m right here, Allie,” I said.

Allie just squeezed me tighter.

“Hell, Allie,” Virgil said. “Let him breathe some.”

Allie removed her head from my chest. She cut her eyes at Virgil a bit, then looked up to me but remained clutching me tight.

“Oh, Everett,” Allie said. “Thank God in Heaven you are okay. I was so worried about you.”

“Thank Samuel Colt,” Virgil said.

“Virgil Cole,” Allie snapped, as she looked to him. “I swear, you can be so callous.”

“Nothing callous about being a good gun hand and returning fire,” Virgil said.