Stay Away From That City . . . They Call It Cheyenne (Code of the West) (3 page)

“Most reliable.”

“That big, old boy with the six mules. You got something to ship north?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ve got a full load for him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Lowery. Stack Lowery.”

2

H
ey, you muscle-bound, pitiful excuse for a piano player, did you steal that rig, or did you decide to finally get an honest job?” Tap hollered at the tall, broad-shouldered man with thick brown hair curling out under his floppy hat. “You couldn’t follow a wagon of loose hay across a forty-acre field, let alone teamster.”

Two employees of Whipple and Hay scampered back i
nside the Mercantile. Several folks scattered across the street.

“Tapadera Andrews, surely the fine citizens of Cheyenne are smart enough not to hire an Arizona gunslinger to wear the badge. I surely hope that Miss Pepper had enough sense to dump you for an honest man. It stifles the mind why someone hasn’t pulled your picket pin by now.”

“Lowery, you can color a story redder than a Navajo blanket. If I can live through a plate of those slimy eggs of yours, I figure I’m goin’ to live forever.”

“You insultin’ my eggs?” the big man growled.

“I am. Those eggs would make a hen blush with embarrassment. In fact, it’s only my Christian gentility that prevents me from properly describin’ them.”

“Your breathin’ days are over, Andrews. Ain’t no man alive who can insult my cookin’ and live. Why, I’ll kick you so far it’ll take a bloodhound six weeks just to find your smell.”

The assembly of people began to grow on the street's far side. The tall man’s menacing glare turned into a full-toothed grin. He threw his arm around Tap’s shoulder, and his massive hand gripped Tap’s with obvious delight. As both men roared with laughter, the boardwalk refilled with people. The white-aproned loaders for Whipple and Hay scooted back to their work.

“How you been, Stack? We haven’t seen or heard from you since three days after the weddin’. We’ve been worried sick about you.”

“You treatin’ my Pepper girl good?”

“We’re doin’ great, though starvin’ to death on deputy’s wages. How about you? What’s with this freight wagon? Where are the girls? Don’t tell me they all grew up and left home.”

They edged near the wall of the building and under one of the tall, white limestone-block arches.

“Seems funny, don’t it? Me not working the houses and lookin’ after a string of dance-hall girls?”

“Last we heard, you, Selena, Paula, and Danni Mae were goin’ to Laramie City. Then when we lost the ranch. We came by that way, but no one had ever seen you.”

“Sure am sorry about the ranch. I guess Fightin’ Ed Casey has a lot of pull. It’s a wonder he let you get hired here in Cheyenne.”

“Fightin’ Ed has friends and enemies. I guess it was his enemies that hired me. Besides, he doesn’t come into Cheyenne all that much.”

Stack Lowery swung up in the driver’s seat of his wagon. “Let me get this rig back into the loadin’ dock, and I’ll tell you what ha
ppened.”

He drove the team up the alley to the front of Whipple and Hay’s. Parallel to the dock, he swung the team out across the street, which turned the wagon perpe
ndicular.

He’s right. It does seem strange for Stack not to have a passel of girls to look after.

The roadway was still wet enough to keep the dust down. A west wind stirred. The wide dirt street held only a little traffic as Stack pulled out the tailgate from the wagon and stepped over to where Tap was waiting. Both men watched the Deadwood Stagecoach rumble north.

Stack shoved his hat to the back of his head. “When we got to Laramie City, a letter was waitin’ for us from April. She had already gone into partnership in a hurdy-gurdy in De
nver and wanted us all to come down. When we got there, we found out the place she bought into was the Pearly Gate. Remember that wild dive on the edge of town?”

“Rena used to own part of that. It’s a tough crowd.”

“That’s the one. The gents ain’t got no better. Anyway . . . by the time we get down there, Danni Mae and Wiley decided to get married, move to west Texas, and take up the plow.”

“No foolin’? Danni Mae and Wiley? Homesteadin’? Wait ’til I tell Pepper. She said it would happen like that.”

“And April’s partner in the business turned out to be Silky Peterson.”

“The one with all the gold mines?”

“Yep. He takes one look at Selena and puts her up in a nice hotel apartment.”

“That just leaves Paula to work the Pearly Gate.”

“She worked there two days, took her money, and bought a ticket to Omaha. Ain’t heard from her since.”

“How about you?”

“I didn’t hire on.”

“You gettin’ out of the dance-hall business?”

“You and me findin’ little Rocky out there all froze up—I got to where I . . . it’s just when I think about them girls.”

Stack turned away. “Girls shouldn’t work them houses, Tap. It just tears ’em down. That ain’t right,” he mumbled, brushing his sleeve across his face.

“So you became a teamster?”

“You remember my baby sister in Denver?”

“Yeah. How is she doin’?”

Stack’s eyes brightened. “Very well, thank you. Her hu
sband freights for this outfit and landed me a job. I’ve spent a couple months on some short runs in the Black Hills. But the real money is on these long hauls.”

“You’ve got to stop by and say hello to Pepper. She’ll kill me if I don’t ask you for supper.”

“You livin’ here in town?”

“Over on East 17th.”

“I’ll surely roll by before I head out, but I can’t do more than greet her. Got a tight schedule. They pay you a bonus if you get there early. Pretty good money, Tap. You might consider joinin’ up. Ain’t many Sioux up there anymore, you know.”

“I’ve got a job.” He looked up to see a pencil-thin man wea
ring a dark red shirt lope his paint horse toward the tracks. “Do you know that hombre’s name?” he asked Stack.

“I don’t know anybody in Cheyenne, Tap. Why?”

“Oh . . . I’m searchin’ for some man in a red shirt. He blew up some windows at the jail. Look, Stack, I’ve got to take a prisoner out of town before he gets himself lynched. You got room for two of us to ride along this afternoon?”

“A freight wagon is mighty slow transportation.”

“I just need to get him well out of town on the sly. After that, we’ll mount up and be on our own.”

“You got to hide him in the goods? Or do we sit him right up here on the bench?”

“The bench is all right as long as we head north and don’t look back. Nobody in town will be watchin’ a Deadwood freighter.”

“What time you want me at the jail?” Stack asked.

“Not the jail. They’re all eyeglassin’ the jail. I’ll have you pull back of the courthouse where they unload goods. I’ll have him around there. When you headin’ out?”

“Two o’clock. Who’s the prisoner?”

Tap lowered his voice and stepped closer to Lowery. “Jerome Hager, but this is between you and me.”

“Hager? The one who killed the marshal?”

“You heard about it?”

“I heard some fool deputy bluffed Hager out of the Occ
idental and coldcocked him without havin’ to fire a shot. I should have figured it was you. ’Course, most folks I talked to wished you had plugged him.”

“So I hear. I’ll let Pepper know you’re comin’ by. It’s on 17th just past Evans. North side of the street. It’s an unpainted co
ttage with blue curtains.”

“You still got that piano?”

“Yep, but it’s almost as big as the whole house.”

“Either of you learn how to play it yet?”

“Nope.”

“I’ll get a day off on the return. I’ll come by and bang you out a tune or two just for old times’ sake. Then you two will have to let me buy you a fine hotel supper.”

“That’s what I like—rich friends.”

Tap hired Rolly Hayburn to lead Brownie and Onespot out past the north park. Then he double-checked the details with Mayor Breshnan at his hotel office. After that he walked back to the jail and made sure all was secure with Baltimore. It was past noon when he made it home for dinner.

“You’ll never guess who I ran into at Whipple and Hay’s,” he announced as he burst through the door.

“And you’ll never guess who we got a letter from.”

“Stack Lowery,” Tap declared.

“Wade Eagleman,” she reported.

“Stack’s freightin’ on the Deadwood.”

“Wade and Rena are in Arizona.”

Tap hung his hat on a peg. “He’s completely out of the dance-hall business.”

Pepper wiped her hands on her apron. “Wade says they got the charges against you dropped.”

“Did you know that Danni Mae and Wiley got married and moved to Texas?” He unbuttoned his sleeves and began to roll them up his arm.

“Tap, are you listening to me?”

“Huh?”

“Can you hear me?”

Tap gazed into her green eyes. “Did you say Wade got me off? What about the escape charge?”

“Danni Mae and Wiley got married?” she squealed.

“I told you that old Comanche, Wade, could do it.”

“What about Paula?” Pepper quizzed. “And Selena? Where are they?”

“Rena didn’t have to go to jail, did she?”

She shook her head. “I just can’t believe Stack’s not playin’ piano and bouncin’ drunks.”

Tap pointed his finger at her. “That Wade’s a mighty good man.”

“Eh .
 . . what?”

Tap’s eyes danced. “I said he’s a good man.”

“Yes.” Pepper relaxed. “Stack’s one of the most decent, best-hearted men I ever met in my whole life.”

“Stack? Are we talkin’ about Stack?”

“Tapadera Andrews, let’s take this conversation down one trail at a time. This is a letter from Wade. The McCurleys got it at the hotel, and they sent it on up to us. You read it, and then you’ll know what I’m talking about.”

When he finished reading the letter, Pepper served up more pot
atoes and gravy and then slipped onto the bench beside him. As they ate, he retold her everything he heard from Lowery.

“How long will you be gone up at Swan’s stockade?” she finally asked.

“Two days . . . maybe three if a storm blows in.”

“Do you expect trouble?”

“If I can get Hager to the stockade unnoticed, there’ll be no trouble at all.”

“What about on the way up there?”

“I don’t think they’ll figure it out. Anyway, it’s worth a chance. If there has to be trouble, I’d rather it didn’t blow up in town. A group of those roundhouse bummers have been hanging out at DelGatto’s gaming house. They don’t act like they’re  in any hurry to get up to the diggin’s. They seem mighty resolved to stir up a fight with the cowboys who are waitin’ to pull out with the roundup wagons. Hager or some drover plugged a couple bummers before he shot Pappy. I figure they’ll use this to get a big battle ragin’. All sorts of townsfolk can get hurt in somethin’ like that.”

Wrinkles beyond her years showed around Pepper’s eyes. “But you can only do so much.”

“I will not let anyone take a prisoner out of my jail unlawfully—no matter how guilty the man is. We’ve got to preserve decency and order for the times when it will be an innocent man in there.”

Pepper smiled, shook her head at him, and tried to laugh.

Tap’s stern expression melted into an inquisitive, “What’s the matter? What’d I say?”

“Your jail? You take everything so personal. You seem to be able to take any situation you’re in and make it a turning point in the hi
story of mankind.”

He tensed up and blushed. Then he flashed a relaxed smile. “I guess I do, don’t I?”

“Yes, you do.” She slipped her fingers into his. “But I like it. It makes every day seem important. I think that’s maybe the way the Lord intended it.”

Tap gave her a hug, then stood, and grabbed his gray wide-brimmed hat. “Darlin’, sometimes I wonder if I’m right for this job. I don’t have a lot of patience with some of ’em.”

“You’re a good deputy.”

“I surely had to hold myself back from shootin’ Hager on sight myself.” He slipped his arm around her shoulder. “You goin’ to be all right for a few days, darlin’?”

“I’ll be lonesome and worried. But Savannah did ask me to spend some time with her. I’ll probably just camp over there during the daytime.”

“That’s good. She’ll keep you occupied, that’s for sure.”

“But I can only spend so much time with her before I start buyin’ dresses and jewelry,” she teased.

“She won’t be shoppin’, will she? She’ll be wearin’ black.”

“Yes, but a very stylish, fashionable black.”

Tap peered into Pepper’s green eyes and caressed her long, curly blonde hair. “Even in her prime, she couldn’t have been as han
dsome as you, Mrs. Andrews.”