Роберт Паркер - Robert B. Parker's Revelation

“Hello,” Virgil said.

“Hi,” I said.

“Constance, you remember Marshal Cole and Deputy Marshal Hitch,” said Vandervoort.

“Of course. How could I forget such handsome men,” she said. “Good evening to you both.”

Vandervoort’s new bride, Constance, was half the age of her husband but was in every way Vandervoort’s perfect counterpart. She was a curvy, full-figured woman who was always pleasant, smiling, and very attractive. She, too, had an unruly, almost violent crop of sandy blond hair that she wore piled atop her head like twisting vines, held in place with ornately jeweled hair clips. Being from New York City, she was different from most of the women in Appaloosa. She was refined and worldly in a way that suggested she’d probably traveled extensively, and she wore expensive dresses cut in the latest fashions. But she was a kind woman, and the few times we’d been in her company with Allie, it seemed she was doing her best to mentor Allie and her endeavors as a new dress shop owner.

“Nice to see you, Mrs. Vandervoort, and of course good evening to you, Margie,” I said.

“Everett,” she said with a giggle. “Nice to see you, too.”

“We were out for a stroll,” Vandervoort said. “And when the rain came we stepped in out of it to visit with our favorite tenant.”

“And don’t forget me,” Margie said.

“Never,” Vandervoort said.

Constance swiveled her head, looking all around her.

“The shop is going to be simply marvelous,” she said. “And I have told Vernon I will see to it that Allison is well taken care of here.”

“We most certainly will,” he said. “She likes to tell me what to do.”

Constance put her hand on Vandervoort’s arm.

“I tell you what to do because, as has been demonstrated, you are nothing without me.”

Vandervoort laughed heartily, but Constance just smiled.

“Have you told Allie the latest?”

He blinked as if he’d tasted something sour, then smiled and shook his head.

“I’ve not. Go right ahead, my dear.”

“Vernon will be supplying all of Appaloosa with the best of the best. And that will include you and your new business, Allie.”

“What do you mean?”

Constance smiled broadly.

“Vernon will be helping you by supplying you, dear, with the newest fineries from Europe,” Constance said.

Constance turned to Vandervoort.

“Vernon has started an import-and-export business. He even bought his own ship.”

“Well, I don’t own the ship, dear, I charter the ship.”

“Own, charter, what’s the difference?” Constance said.

“Vernon will be importing the best Europe has to offer. From France, England, Germany, and Asia even.”

I glanced at Virgil, but he remained focused on the Vandervoorts.

“Furniture, food, drink, and fineries from all over the world, and make them readily available right here in Appaloosa,” Constance said.

Vernon nodded and smiled.

“He departs tomorrow for New Orleans to collect the first shipment.”

“The important point is that I will be returning to Appaloosa very soon with a trainload of goods.”

“My gosh,” Allie said, then turned to Virgil. “Isn’t that exciting?”

Virgil nodded a bit.

“What will you be exporting?” he said.

“Well, there is that,” Vandervoort said with a hearty chuckle.

Vandervoort looked to Constance.

“The import-and-export moniker is a bit misleading for now,” he said. “At least the export, for the time being.”

“They could use some saddles,” Virgil said.

Vandervoort laughed and slapped his thigh, “Quite right, Marshal Cole, quite right.”

Vandervoort laughed again, then looked to his wife.

“Shall we, dear? I don’t want to be inconsiderate, I’m sure they have better things to do than listen to us rattle on.”

“Speak for yourself,” Constance said with a smile as she got to her feet.

“Plus, I have a train to catch for New Orleans in the early morning,” Vandervoort said.

“I must be going, too,” Margie said.

“We will walk you, dear,” Constance said.

“We have the buggy,” I said. “We can drop you off if you’d like.”

“We have our umbrellas,” Vandervoort said.

“Me, too,” Margie said.

“You sure?” I said.

“I am,” Margie said. “But thank you, Everett. You are very kind and I just might have to take you up on that buggy ride one of these days.”

“Most certainly,” I said.

“Yes,” Vandervoort said. “And we appreciate the offer, but...”

“Yes, we love a stroll in the rain,” Constance said. “Under an umbrella, of course.”

We said our good-byes and showed Mr. and Mrs. Vandervoort and Margie out the door. Allie watched them walk away, then turned to us with tears in her eyes.

“I cannot tell you just how blessed I feel,” she said. “It’s just overwhelming to me to know I have such supportive and helpful people in my life.”

We locked the shop, got Allie loaded up, and drove to Virgil and Allie’s place. When we arrived we saw a small, dark figure sitting on the porch.

“Got company,” I said.

Virgil pulled his Colt but put it away when we saw who was moving out off the porch and into the rain.

A bolt of lightning briefly lit the interior of Hal’s Café, and within a moment the thundering sound of the bolt cracked so loudly it rattled the café’s front windows.

“Lord have mercy,” Hal said. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” I said, looking out the window. “This is a good one.”

Hal nodded and rubbed his hands together a bit as if he was thinking about the best way to say to us what he had to say. For some time all he had to allow was how hard the rain was coming down.

“What is it?” Virgil said.

“Yeah, I know you is wondering why I think it so important for me to come get y’all at this time of night, on a night like this,” Hal said. “Why two busy and famous marshals like y’all need to be summoned by the likes of me. I know it ain’t what you was planning for y’all’s evening.”

“Get on with it,” Virgil said.

It was late in the evening and Virgil and I had just shaken the rain off our slickers and sat down to drink some freshly brewed coffee with Hal.

“Y’all want some food?”

“No,” Virgil said.

“We’ve had supper,” I said.

Hal’s Café was a place where Virgil and I would go to have some good basic grub. It was a fixture in Appaloosa mainly because Hal was always a friendly fella with a good disposition, but, most important, because Hal could cook better than most.

He was a large ex-slave who had worked in plantation kitchens for his owner for many years and in the process developed skills that were second nature, and in our opinion he was one of the best cooks in town. There were plenty of fancier places with expensive good food to be found in Appaloosa these days, but Hal’s was a comfortable stopover for us. At this particular moment in time, however, Hal was not cooking and serving up food. It was well past suppertime now, and Hal was agitated and nervous about something. He’d sent his young nephew, Felix, to fetch us. Once we were seated with coffee, Hal looked to Felix.

“Go on back and wash some dishes, Felix,” he said.

“Done washed all the dishes.”

“Wash ’em again then.”

“But I did what you asked following them fellas, then fetching Marshal Cole and...” Felix stopped talking for a moment when he registered the steaming look Hal was giving him. “Do I got to?”

“You don’t got to, but you don’t I will tan your dark hide, hear?... Get on, like I say.”

“Here I go,” he said.