A Lady in Defiance (9 page)

The marshal muttered, “Uh, oh,” and pressed his way through
the spectators, emerging onto the front row. Through the shifting bodies,
Rebecca caught a flash of red and blue silk and what looked like gyrating
ostrich feathers. She heard several slaps accompanied by astonishingly skilled
swearing, grunts and screams akin to animal sounds. She’d never heard women
carry-on so and kept thinking it couldn’t be what it sounded like.

Curious, she, Naomi and Emilio wiggled their way to the front
as well and beheld an eye-gouging, hair-pulling, fingernail-breaking catfight
that would have rivaled mountain lions battling to the death. Two women, both
barely dressed, circled each other warily. Blue and pink silk dresses hung in
shreds from their bodies, feathers poked wildly from disheveled red and blond
hair, blood dribbled from noses and mouths. Everyone within sight of this
hellish battle was frozen to the spot. The women lunged at each other and a
raucous cheer went up from the crowd as nails sank into flesh.

Trying to work her hands around the blonde’s throat, the
redhead, fire blazing in her eyes, called the girl an unholy name, and demanded
her money. “That’s my fifty dollars and I’ll get it out of you if I have to rip
off your arms, you bi−”

The blonde halted the vile word by slapping the woman’s face
so hard Rebecca was sure the sound could be heard at the other end of town. The
girl then made an attempt to run, but the redhead grabbed a handful of hair and
pulled her right back into the fight. Rebecca was appalled by the barbarous
display and was sure the marshal would put an end to it any second. However,
when she glanced over at him, he was grinning and shadow boxing with
exuberance. Rebecca, furious and for once reacting faster than Naomi, reached
over and grabbed his arm. “Why aren’t you doing something? Stop this before
someone gets hurt.”

“Ah, that’s just Diamond Lil and one of her girls. She don’t
usually hurt’em too bad. It’ll be over in another minute.”

Naomi blinked, as if snapping herself out of a fight-induced
hypnosis, and shoved the marshal toward the street. “Do something or we will.”

He withstood the shove, holding his ground, but Naomi scowled
and shoved again. “I doubt Mr. McIntyre would appreciate it if we became
embroiled in that.”

That was enough to plant doubt in the marshal’s mind as he
stumbled off the boardwalk. Frowning his disapproval, he looked into the crowd.
“Come on, Corky.” He plucked a short, pudgy man from the front lines. “Help me
break this up.” Corky looked perplexed by the request, but shrugged and
followed the marshal into the street.

The women were on the ground now, rolling about like
entwined, murderous snakes. The marshal grabbed the redhead, apparently Diamond
Lil, and pulled her, kicking and screaming, off the little blond. Corky grabbed
the girl on the ground and helped her to her feet. Scratched and bleeding, she
stared defiantly at the wild cat in the marshal’s arms.

“All right, Lil!” He pinned the woman’s arms to her side and
hugged her tightly, picking her up off the ground. She fought harder and
screamed louder. He squeezed harder, to the point, Rebecca guessed, her
breathing was constricted. That did the trick and the fight went out of the
woman. A disappointed roar shot up from the crowd, but the men quickly started
drifting away. The marshal relaxed his grip ever so slightly. “Now, Lil, you
and what’s-her-name go on back to Tent Town. Keep your trouble over there. You
know Mr. McIntyre doesn’t like this kind of stuff spillin’ out here in front of
God and everybody.”

The two women singed the air with their hateful stares, but
after an instant, Lil shrugged herself loose from the marshal. “Fine, we’ll
take care of this like ladies.” No one missed the dripping sarcasm, including
the marshal.

“Corky, see to it they get back to the Broken Spoke in one
piece.”

The man brightened and released his delicate hold on his
prisoner. “Fine with me. I needed a drink anyway.” He eyed the angry women and
shrugged. “I reckon I can get’em there in one piece. Maybe.”

And just like that, things were back to what passed for
normal in Defiance. Naomi looked at Rebecca and shook her head. “They’re
nothing but a bunch of animals here.”

Rebecca couldn’t argue with that and shot Emilio an accusing
stare. “Is it like this all the time?”

Pulling his shoulders up, the boy nodded sheepishly. “Ees
Defiance.”

Leaping up on the boardwalk, the marshal rejoined them,
wearing a pleased expression. “Happy, ladies?”

“No, Marshal, we’re not,” Rebecca’s sharp tone startled him
and the marshal inched back. “Do you have no respect whatsoever for the badge
you’re wearing?” As Marshal Hayes’ face fell, a righteous indignation surfaced
in Rebecca’s heart and she decided to let it square her shoulders. It had been
a long time since she’d been passionate about anything. Standing to her full,
impressive height, she took a step toward the marshal, coming almost eye-to-eye
with him. “You’re not doing your job. That star on your chest is not a piece of
jewelry. If you have any honor at all, then you know it’s a
responsibility
.”
Turmoil filled the marshal’s eyes. He started to speak, but bit it back and
only shook his head. Rebecca nodded. “I see.”

“No. No, you don’t,” the marshal argued. A kind of regret
softened the younger man’s features. “I’m no Wyatt Earp. Defiance has doubled
in size since I put this here badge on. There are eight saloons now and a mine
that runs twenty-four hours a day. If I tried to settle this town down on my
own, I’d be dead before the next shift change.”

Rebecca understood the young man was trying to tell her he
was not a hero, but he was in over his head. She sympathized with that feeling
and lowered her chin, letting some of the steam out of her anger. Taking
Naomi’s hand, who was looking at her as though she’d transformed into some
other species, Rebecca pulled her wide-eyed sister away from the humbled
marshal. “Let’s finish our errands before the next show.”

The sisters gave one last glance to the retreating saloon
girls who, though separated by a watchful Corky, were still eyeing each other
warily. Disgusted, Rebecca shook her head. What in the world was the matter
with these people? Was there some beacon that called all the worst elements of
society into this valley? Or did Defiance itself corrupt its citizens?

Rebecca was beginning to see why Naomi had so little hope for
the town. Women fighting in the streets like rabid dogs. Men cheering it on as
if it were a boxing match. She could barely believe it. Still, it had felt
almost
liberating
to react to something. Rebecca couldn’t remember the
last time she had stood up to anybody about anything and that no doubt
explained why Naomi was staring at her.

The marshal and Emilio in tow, the sisters marched across the
street to the Boot and Co. general store. Rebecca noted that someone had added
beneath the name in fresher paint and smaller letters, “Charles McIntyre –
Owner.” Two frightfully rotund Indian women sat out front with baskets of
colorful, fresh berries for sale. The sisters looked longingly at the
blueberries as they passed by and Rebecca knew they would have to purchase
some.

Once in the store, she and Naomi looked around and were
shocked by the variety of items. To their delight, the general store, though
little more than a large log cabin, carried an abundant supply of fresh fruits
and vegetables, canned goods, hardware, and smoked meats. 

Naomi looked at the marshal, clearly impressed by the little
emporium. “Money, men and mules?”

The marshal nodded. “Money, men and mules.” Folding his arms
over his chest, he smiled, looking pleased that his town had somehow been
elevated in their eyes. “Defiance might be a rowdy hole-in-the wall, but we do
like our supplies.”

~~~

Hannah was still sleeping when the Rebecca and Naomi returned.
Anxious about disturbing her, Naomi suggested they cook dinner outside over a
fire one last time. The marshal excused himself, citing important duties, and
Emilio started to slink away as well, but the girls weren’t about to let him go
without showing their appreciation for his help.

“Emilio, you must eat dinner with us,” Rebecca coaxed, taking
a box of groceries from him and setting them on the kitchen floor. “We’d love
to have you stay if you don’t have a better offer.”

Naomi could see that the boy was waffling and pushed him over
the edge. “We insist. If you wouldn’t care to chop a few pieces of firewood,
I’ll get some rocks to ring a pit.”

“Ok,” he acquiesced, bobbing his head. “Eef you’re sure ees
OK?”

The warm smiles of his hostesses pretty much answered that
question. Rebecca stayed inside to put some things away and check on Hannah
while Naomi and Emilio hunted around for the ax. Whicker had left a fairly
impressive pile of unsplit logs, but Naomi knew just from Southern winters, it
wouldn’t be enough.

Once their new helper was on task, she appraised the
backyard. The former tenant had also slapped up a small corral and a rickety
lean-to, both of which she had initially categorized as an eyesore. Now she was
grateful for them. The chickens, in cages tucked under the lean-to, squawked
and clucked when they saw her, eager for some corn. Sampson and the mules
trotted over to the fence, neighing expectantly for their evening meal. She let
her eyes roam back to the wagon, sitting alone and unhitched. It plucked a
string of sadness in her.

Fighting a melancholy mood that threatened to drown her, she
meandered down to the stream and watched the sun balance precariously for a
moment on the ridge of the distant mountains before its final descent. The mountains
glowed a radiant purple in the retreating light and the disappearing sun
colored the snowy peaks a pale shade of orange. The peaceful landscape gave her
spirit rest. In spite of everything that had brought them here, everything
they’d seen, she couldn’t help but feel these mountains ministered to her soul.
If only John could be sitting here with her now…

Night had descended by the time they were all sitting down to
supper. Naomi had gone to the extra work of finding unsplit logs to drag up and
set around the fire, creating a cozy little oasis of sorts. She couldn’t
believe after months of camping, that she still had a desire to experience
these mountains by starlight. Cool and clear, summer nights in the Rockies
suited her perfectly. She didn’t care if she ever sweated through the
suffocating humidity of the South again.

They ate hungrily−especially Emilio−and the girls
couldn’t help but notice. Hannah slowly swirled a biscuit around in her gravy
as she studied him. “Emilio, do you have family in town?”

“
Si
,” he nodded, popping a piece of ham in to his
mouth. “My seester ees here too.”

“Oh, that’s nice. What does she do?”

He stopped chewing abruptly, then slowly shrugged and
swallowed. “She work for Meester McIntyre, too.”

They knew enough by his reaction not to follow that line of
questioning, but Naomi couldn’t help but wonder why he was so hungry. “Where do
the two of you stay? Who cooks for you?”

“I have a cot in the back room at the Iron Horse and Rose has
a nice room upstairs. She bring me food from Martha’s Kitchen or sometimes
leftovers when she cooks for Meester McIntyre.”

Naomi had noticed Martha’s Kitchen on their way in. It was a
dirty, slapped-together, open-air “restaurant” just a few buildings up the
street. Men ate on long tables out in front of it while a woman walked around
with a pot dropping unappetizing mush onto the customers’ plates. No wonder the
child was half-starved. And he slept in the back of a saloon. Pitiful. Naomi
watched shock and compassion over Emilio’s situation dawn on her sisters’
faces. She knew they were losing their hearts.

“I don’t mean to pry, Emilio,” Rebecca pressed, “but where
are your parents?”

He rested his plate on his knobby knees and thought for a
moment. “Banditos burn our farm and shoot my parents when I was small.” He
shrugged. “I don’t remember Mama and Papa. The men who burned us out made us go
with them. We lived with them for a long time. I don’t know, maybe
cinco
−um,
five or six years. Then one night, Rose and I leave.” He greedily scraped up
some rice and cleaned his plate, satisfaction evident in the shadows on his
face. “We find Defiance, about, I theenk two years ago.”

Rebecca pursed her lips thoughtfully for a second. “What is
it that you do for Meester−er, I mean,
Mr
. McIntyre?” Naomi and
Hannah grinned at the slip. The boy’s thick accent was infectious and
endearing.

“Whatever he saze. Today, he say, help the seesters. Do what
they say.”

Rebecca nodded. “Well, Emilio, we hope that he lets you come
back tomorrow. You’ve truly been an invaluable help, but please know there is
always room for you at our table whether you work for us or not. Will you come
to supper again sometime?”

Lowering his head, Emilio looked down and scratched his knee
through holey trousers. Naomi could see he was struggling with the invitation
and the unexpected friendship behind it. She was rather surprised herself by
her enjoyment of his company, but he was such a sweet, unassuming boy. And he
had been a tremendous help. She thought he was as out of place in Defiance as
the three of them.