Charles West - Day of the Wolf

Shifting her attention to Rose again, Billie Jean said, “There’s been a couple of fellows asking about you. I expect they’ll be glad to see you back.” She grunted then when Lorena jabbed her sharply in the side with her elbow.

“I’m not doing that anymore,” Rose said softly.

Astonished, Billie Jean started to respond, but Lorena interrupted. “Shut up, Billie Jean. Rose is tired right now. She don’t wanna talk about it.” She gave Billie Jean a scorching look.

“Ohhh…,” Billie Jean responded apologetically as enlightenment finally penetrated her brain. She looked quickly at Wolf, then back at Rose. “Right, no time to talk about that now.”

Lorena’s heart went out to the young woman, for she remembered when she was a young girl, and the dreams she had once dared to dream. It was a long time ago, but she could recall the sorrow and disappointment caused by misplaced faith. “Let’s see if we can rustle you up somethin’ to fill your belly before you ride off again,” she said to Wolf, attempting to get past the awkward topic of conversation that Billie Jean had unconsciously introduced.

“I brought the flour you said you needed,” Billie Jean said. “I brought some bacon, too, in case you didn’t have any of that.”

Before long, there was bacon frying in a pan on the small stove in Lorena’s room. With no time to prepare a proper breakfast, Lorena added flour to the bacon grease and rolled the strips in it. “Not fancy, but fillin’,” she announced when she served it to Wolf and filled his cup with coffee.

“Much obliged,” he replied. “I wasn’t countin’ on gettin’ fed. I reckon I oughta apologize for not leavin’ the deer meat I brought you, but me and Rose ate it up.”

“It was a good thing we had it,” Rose said. “We’d have both starved if we’d had to count on me to do the hunting.”

“She took care of me, and I don’t reckon I’ve thanked her enough for that,” Wolf said in an attempt to express his appreciation for Rose’s sacrifice. He was about to say more when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. Without having to think about it, he picked up his rifle from the floor.

“Who is it?” Lorena asked.

“It’s me, Marvin,” came the answer. “Open the door.”

Lorena got up from the table and went to the door. “Whaddaya want?” she asked as Marvin stepped inside.

His eyes reflected the displeasure he felt upon seeing the gathering in Lorena’s room. “I saw the horses tied up behind the building, and I was wonderin’ if you had some early visitors,” he said. He didn’t have to express the disappointment he felt when he found out who they were. He stood there a few moments, trying to decide whether to risk triggering the violence he had witnessed before in the man called Wolf by asking him to leave. One violent shooting was enough in his saloon. He didn’t relish the possibility of another, and Wolf seemed to be the kind that attracted trouble.

“Don’t worry,” Wolf said, reading the obvious message in the man’s face. “I’m fixin’ to leave right now. I just had to bring Rose back.”

The worried frown on Marvin’s face relaxed in relief. “You know best,” he said, then backed toward the door. “I’ll get back to the saloon, then. I was just stoppin’ by to see if Lorena was comin’ in this mornin’.”

“I’ll be in directly,” Lorena said as she closed the door behind him. “Like I do every damn mornin’,” she said to those left in the room. “I swear, it’s gettin’ to where he can’t get started in the mornin’s without me there to help him.” She didn’t feel it necessary to admit that her assistance in operating Marvin’s business was by design. She hadn’t even told Billie Jean of her plans to work her way into a partnership with Marvin, the result being to eventually take over the saloon entirely. She had to think about the future, and she did not have to be told that her body, the only asset at present for her support, was already approaching retirement. Her original plans to be the first of her profession to establish herself in Deadwood had not been entirely successful. Already she found herself behind in that endeavor with madames like Dora DuFran and Mollie Johnson enjoying unlimited success. But Lorena knew that the demand for women in the towns along the gulch was great enough for all competition. Her plans might take a little longer, but she was confident that she could manipulate Marvin Sloan into a partnership to her liking.

Wolf got to his feet, drained the last swallow of coffee from his cup, and placed it on the table. “I best get in the saddle,” he announced. “Much obliged,” he said to Lorena. After a nod to Billie Jean, he turned to Rose. “I ain’t got words good enough to thank you for takin’ care of me.”

She avoided meeting his gaze. “It wasn’t much trouble,” she said. “No more than I would have done for anybody.” She stepped deliberately away from him then as if to let him pass.

Only Lorena saw her gesture as symbolic in releasing him from her heart. It might take a little time before she got over this disappointment, Lorena thought. But every whore Lorena ever knew was scarred from some disappointment in her life. After a while Rose would change her mind about getting out of the profession, and be back to work. What choice did she have? In the meantime, I’ll take care of her until she returns to pull her weight . Then her practical mind came back to remind her. She’s got a lot of good years left in that young body .

Outside, Wolf slipped his rifle back in the saddle sling, then took a few moments to check his horses. He remembered to say a few words to Brownie, since the gelding no longer had Ned to speak to him. The thought filled him with a moment of regret. He hadn’t thought about the big deputy marshal for a while. Too bad, he thought. Ned might have been a good friend . He untied the bay’s reins and said, “Well, your load’s gonna be a little lighter without Rose behind the saddle.” He pictured the slender girl then, and added, “But not a helluva lot.” He patted the horse’s neck for a few moments before stepping up in the saddle, wincing a little when the motion caused a stinging sensation in his side. He glanced down to make sure the minor pain was not a signal that something had torn loose and made it bleed again. When he found no evidence of it, he swung the horses away from the corner of the building where they had been tied. He was in a melancholy mood, and he couldn’t explain why. Shaking his head in an attempt to rid it of meaningless thoughts, he nudged the bay and started back on the trail he had just ridden in on. Behind him, in the saloon, Marvin glanced up from behind the bar when a couple of early customers walked in the front door.

Too startled to speak, Marvin stared wide-eyed at the two rough-looking men walking toward the counter. He had truly hoped that he would never see them again. Hearing the door to the back hallway open, he glanced briefly in that direction to see Lorena standing in the doorway, frozen speechless as well. His next thought was to hope that Wolf had gone. “Good mornin’,” he heard himself say, when he finally found his voice. “What can I get for you gentlemen?”

“You know who we’re lookin’ for,” Buck growled, then turned and pointed in Lorena’s direction. Wiggling his index finger, he summoned her to him. “Best check them back rooms, Skinner, see if they’ve got any company.”

It took a moment for Lorena to recover her usual bravado, but she did as she was told, stepping aside as Skinner brushed rudely past her. “He ain’t here,” she told Buck as she walked up to face him. “You oughta know he ain’t. You took off after him when he left here. Hell, we need to ask you where he is.”