Tales of the Eerie Saloon: High Noon -- How It All Began

by Ellie Dauber and Chris Leeson

© 2001

  

* * * * *

Monday, September 24, 1871, Week 10 -- Day 4

Arsenio happened to look up from his work just as Marty Hernandez walked into the smithy. "What can I do for you, Marty?"

"We had a wheel come off a wagon while we were hauling rocks," Marty said. "Señor Slocum thinks the whole undercarriage got wrecked when it collapsed. He asks if you would ride out and take a look."

"Sure." Arsenio put down his hammer. "Let me get a few things. He walked over to a worktable and began filling an oversized saddlebag with tools. "Do me a favor, would you? Go into the house and tell Laura I'm going out to your boss' ranch, and I probably won't be back for a few hours."

Marty nodded and headed towards the door into Arsenio's house. Arsenio finished packing. He took a sign that said, "Gone on a job. Be back soon." from its hook on the wall and hung it on the smithy door.

* * * * *

It took Laura the best part of an hour to get up the courage to carry out her plan. If Arsenio didn't believe that she could do the work of a smith, she'd show him how wrong he was by doing just that. This job out at Slocum's would be the best opportunity she was likely to get.

She snuck into the smithy -- just in case. It was empty; the front door shut and locked. The fire was still burning in the forge. It had died down some, but there was still plenty of charcoal. She was sure that she could work the bellows. She'd have it going hot enough in no time.

Arsenio had left his long, leather apron draped over a worktable. The apron reached down to his knees, making it impossible to wear while he was riding. Laura put her arms through the straps and reached behind to tie it at her waist.

She had taken the time to change out of her dress and into an old shirt and pants of his. She'd been in dresses and skirts for so long that the male clothes felt odd at first. They felt comfortable now, and she enjoyed the freedom they offered. 'Maybe I'll get myself a pair or two for wearing here around the house,' she thought.

She worked the bellows for a few minutes. The coals glowed brighter and brighter, red hot in color. Laura began to sweat from the heat.

Rods of iron of various lengths and thicknesses were stored in bins against one wall, waiting to be used. Laura walked over to pick one. She stopped as a thought came to her. She wasn't _absolutely_ certain about whether or not she could do what she was about to try. 'Maybe,' she thought, 'it would be better to use a piece of scrap iron.'

There was plenty of that, as well. Rusting tools, oddly shaped pieces of metal that she didn't recognize, even a few pieces of wood with hinges or a lock still attached were piled up all along the walls. Arsenio could use a piece in something he was making or repairing, or melt it down and re-shape it.

She was trying to decide what piece to use, when she heard a voice just behind her. "Laura, just what do you think you're doing?" She turned her head in surprise. Arsenio was standing only a few feet away staring at her angrily.

She spun around. "I...Arsenio! I thought that you were out at the Slocum place."

"I was," he said, looking impatient. "But the job was at the edge of his property closest to town. A rockslide -- look, never you mind that. What are you doing in that apron and why is the forge going?"

She sighed and decided to tell the truth. "I...I was going to try something...try to work a piece of iron. I thought that if I showed you that I could do it --"

"Then I'd agree to teach you." He completed her thought. "Laura, that is the dumbest -- do you have any idea how dangerous it could be?"

"I was just going to take this --" she pulled at a bent and twisted rod, an old section of a hacienda main gate. In her nervousness, she didn't notice that the top of the rod was a long "T" shape. Parts of it stretched for several feet behind other pieces of iron. There was a clattering noise and most of those pieces began falling, mainly towards her.

Laura felt something, a sharp push in her stomach. The next thing she knew, she was sprawled on the floor several feet away. There was a pile of iron pieces lying on the floor right where she'd been standing. The stacked metal was over a foot high.

Arsenio was underneath it.

He wasn't moving.

* * * * *

Wilma sat back in the plush chair and re-read the letter for, maybe, the tenth time.

"Wilma:

Angel Montiero wrote me here in prison about how you drunk that potion, and what it done to you. He says you gone to working in a cathouse. I hope it's all true.

I won't say you don't deserve it. You do -- and a whole lot worse.

I truly do wants to see it for myself, though, so you can figure to be seeing me as soon as I can get back there to Eerie after my time's up here.

Count on it.

Phil Trumbell."

Wilma smiled to herself. Phil was a big man; kind of handsome, too, now that she thought of it. She remembered his steely eyes and those hands...big, big and rough. Damn! She'd have to wait almost a year.

In the meantime, she could write back and tease him a little. Wilma particularly liked the idea of making Trumbell all hot and bothered while he was stuck there in prison.

She stood up and walked over to the writing desk in the corner, shivering as she sat down near the open window. The draft felt cold against her bare skin. _La Parisienne_ was closed in the morning, but Wilma was already wearing what she called her "work clothes," corset, drawers, and stockings.

She thought for a moment, then picked up the pen and began to write.

"Dear Phil:

Yes, it's true.

In the old days, I'd have taken your letter as a threat, and I'd be waiting for you with loaded pistols.

Now I'll just be waiting with open arms."

She giggled as another thought occurred to her.

"And open legs.

I hope you're thinking about me every day you're in the hoosegow, _Big Man_. I know I'll be thinking about you.

Yours,

Wilma."

As an afterthought, she pressed her lips firmly onto the paper, leaving their russet imprint there beside her signature, then dabbed the letter generously with perfume from a small bottle there by the inkwell.

She'd never known how much fun it was to tease a man, to make him want her more. Maybe even make him want her enough to do something stupid like try to break out of jail. 'That'd be good for another five...ten years on his sentence.' She smiled at the thought.

'But whenever he gets here -- busted out or 'cause he served his time -- he's gonna want me _so_ bad that he should be good for just _hours_ and _hours_ of fun.'

Then she thought of another possibility. 'He could get shot, of course, trying to escape. It'd be a waste of such a pretty man, but he did try to shoot me first.' She grinned, showing all her teeth. 'Imagine that, teasing a man until he's _dying_ to see me.

* * * * *

Doc was washing his hands at the kitchen pump when Laura came out of the bedroom. She was wearing a dress again. She'd changed her clothes after Doc had chased her out of the bedroom so he could examine Arsenio without her constant interruption.

"Is Arsenio really okay, Doc? I mean _really_?"

Doc dried his hands on a towel. "He's a bit beat up, Laura. Some of those bruises will take a while to heal, but, as far as I can tell, there's nothing worse than that. He has no broken bones, no internal organ damage that I could find. Frankly, I'd say that he was lucky."

"No," Laura said, shaking her head. "I was the lucky one. What happened was my fault, all my fault. And he-he pushed me out of the way and took all that damage in-instead of me. That should be me in there -- me, hurt or...or..." She turned away, her face flushed with emotion.

"It's all right, Laura," Doc said, patting her on the back. "It's all right." He reached into his bag and handed her a brown bottle labeled "Pain Killer." I was going to leave this for Arsenio. In fact, I've just given him some. I find it's also a good nerve tonic, and I think you can use some of it yourself. No more than a tablespoon full at a time for either of you and no more than one dose every six hours. Understand?"

"I speak English, Doc. But what is it?"

"Normally, I prescribe it for muscle aches and pains, which is really all that Arsenio has, but it also has a calming influence." Doc thought to himself, 'it should; that stuff's a mixture of laudanum and cherry syrup dissolved in ninety proof alcohol.'

"You give him some of that as he needs it for the pain, and make sure he stays in bed till at least the day after tomorrow. You might take a dose yourself before you go to bed tonight." He closed his bag. "That should do it. If not, let me know."

"Thanks, Doc." Laura felt reassured. She knew enough about Doc to figure that he wouldn't be leaving if he didn't think Arsenio was all right. He was all right! Thank you, G-d!

"It wouldn't hurt for you to get some rest, as well. I'll tell Shamus that you won't be coming in today." He noticed the hesitant look on Laura's face and shook his head. "Besides everything else, I would think you'd want to stay home just to keep an eye on Arsenio. You just make sure that he stays off his feet and in bed, till Wednesday, at least. That's one pigheaded man you've got there, and you've got to be even more pigheaded to keep him from hurting himself further." He left the cabin, closing the door behind him.

Laura got a tablespoon out of a drawer and walked back into the bedroom. Arsenio was lying back, his head propped up on pillows. He had bandages wrapped around his right arm and his chest. "Is the Doc gone?" he asked.

"Yes," Laura began. "He left this --"

"Good," Arsenio said, throwing back the covers and sitting up. "I want to get into the smithy and check out the damage."

Laura looked at him open-mouthed. The Doc really did know his patient better than she did. Laura hurried over to the bed. "Arsenio, you get back down under those covers."

"I'm fine."

"Really?" She sat down on the bed and gingerly touched his bandaged arm. He winced and pulled the arm back.

"All right, so I'm a _little_ hurt. I'm a big boy. I can take it."

"A...'a little hurt'? She gritted her teeth to control the tremble in her voice. "I almost g-got you k-k-killed. You'd be smart to boot me out of here."

Arsenio smiled, careful not to show the pain he still felt. "I'd be smart to keep you cooking and cleaning, and far away from my smithy."

Laura made an indignant fist. "What do you think I am, some sort of housemaid?"

"I'm not sure _what_ you are, but I expect that it'll be a lot of fun finding out." He took the fisted hand by the wrist and squeezed lightly. Fire danced in her blue eyes, but the sparks quickly faded and her fingers uncoiled.

He studied her uncertain glance, wondering how much farther he could push things. Tentatively, he brought her hand toward his mouth. He saw her lips purse and felt a slight resistance in the drawing of her arm. But it was too late to prevent his placing of a light kiss on her knuckles.

Now she did pull away. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Has that bump on your head addled your brain?" she exclaimed, standing up.

"I think that little kiss did more for me than anything that comes in a buh-bottle." He yawned and shook his head a quick couple of times. The drowsiness he'd been fighting was finally too much for him. "Duh-damn you, Doc. You got the wuh-worst..." His voice trailed off. His eyes closed and he fell back against the pillows. Seconds later, he was snoring, a satisfied grin on his face.

Laura glared at him and stamped her foot in frustration. "That man," she said. "Why won't he let things be?" She leaned over the bed and pulled the light blanket up around his shoulders. "All I want is..." she stopped in mid-thought. What did she want? A friend? A house mate? Or something...else?

She noticed that her hands were shaking. "Maybe I do need a dose of that medicine." She looked at the bottle then shook her head. "No, Arsenio might wake up and need something." Doc had left a chair near the bed. She sat down to wait. She didn't know how long she just sat there watching him snoring.

'He does look kind of sweet just lying there like that.' It was her last conscious thought before her body relaxed, freed of the stress of all that had happened, and she fell asleep herself.

* * * * *

"Excuse me, Bridget," R.J. said. "I brought you some dinner."

Bridget looked up from her cards. "What'd you say, R.J.? Supper? No, thanks; I can't be breaking up this game just to eat."

"I know that, but I also know how long you've been playing. You couldn't come to the food, so I brought some food to you." He put a large plate down on a folding tray next to her. "There's sliced beef here, some bread, boiled potatoes, and a couple of pieces of fruit, nothing that should get in the way of your game."

"Thanks, R.J.," she said with a smile. "To tell the truth, I was getting kind of hungry." A fork and napkin were in the tray, too. She put the napkin on her lap and used the fork to build herself a sandwich. "Mmmm, delicious."

"I'll be sure to tell Maggie. You want some coffee with that?"

"Hey, R.J.," Joe Kramer said," how about getting the rest of us some food, too?" Joe as a bank teller and handled other people's money all day. He was known -- except when he was playing poker -- for not liking to handle his own any more than he had to.

R.J. shook hi head. "Bridget has a special arrangement with Shamus and with 'Maggie's Place'. I'll be glad to send Jane over if you gents want to order something for yourselves."

"I think I'll just save my money for playing poker with," Kramer said.

"Could you just bring me over some coffee and a couple of them desert cakes?" Tomas Rivera asked.

"I gotta get back to the bar," R.J. said. "We got us a pretty good house tonight considering that Mr. Slocum took more'n half his men out on that drive today. I'll have Jane bring that over." He paused a half second. "With the bill for it, of course."

"If you're so damned busy, how come you had time to bring over food for Bridget?" Kramer asked.

"The Saloon has a special arrangement with her," R.J. said. "Besides, she's my friend. I thought that she'd be getting hungry, so I brought over something." He smiled at Bridget. "I like to take care of...my friends."

"I'd just bet you do," Rivera said with a laugh.

"You'd win that bet, Tomas," R.J. said, smiling again. "I'll see you later, Bridget." He turned and started walking jauntily back to the bar. 'Take that, Cap Lewis,' he thought.

"Yeah, sure," Bridget said returning to the game. Somehow, she was almost as pleased at having R.J. fuss after her as she was at the cards in her hand.

* * * * *

"Another beer, Shamus," Jane said, putting a half-dollar down on the bar. "That kid's thirstier than I ever was."

Shamus looked up from pouring the beer. "What kid? Who ordered the beer; where is he sitting and how many has he already had?"

"Him," she pointed to a table at the far end of the room. A figure sat alone, hunched over slightly, his back towards the bar. "He's had..." she counted with her fingers, "...four beers already."

Shamus picked up the money and walked out from behind the bar. "Ye stay here and help R.J. I'll be wanting to talk with ye some when I get back."

He walked angrily over to the table and looked down at his customer. "Arnie Diaz, I must be getting old. I should have caught ye coming in." The boy had been in and out of every bar in town, trying to get a drink or to get into a card game since he was twelve, much to his parents' despair.

Arnie winced at the sound of Shamus' voice and slowly looked up towards him. "'Lo, Mr. O'Toole." He giggled nervously. "Ya di'n't have t'bring m'beer yurself." He was a lanky boy, tall for his age, perhaps, and wiry with a thick unruly crop of black hair. The carefully nurtured beginning of a mustache was just visible above his lip.

"I told ye more than once; I don't want ye drinking at my bar."

The boy stiffened. "Wuzza matter, a Mex's money not good enough?"

Shamus scowled at the suggestion. "You know that isn't so. I'll happily be taking any _man's_ money, but I'll _not_ be helping a boy learn to be a worthless drunkard; not in my bar, I won't."

"Boy!" Arnie carefully stood up. "I was sixteen last week." He still slurred his words. "That should be old enough."

"Aye, it might of been, if ye'd come in and asked for a drink like a man. But, no, ye sneak in when we're busy and hide from me at me farthest table." Shamus put the money on the table. "Here's yuir money, _boy_. Ye come back when ye're ready to be acting like a man, and I'll be glad to serve ye."

"Keep it," Arnie said angrily. "Give it t'the girl that brought me the other beers." He walked out of the Saloon, a bit shaky, but with all the dignity he could manage.

Shamus watched, shaking his head. "There's surely trouble ahead for that one."

Arnie managed to get one drink at the Lone Star before Sam Duggan threw him out. No other place would serve him. He wandered around town for a while cursing at Shamus and Sam Duggan and throwing stones at buildings. The Sheriff finally arrested him, and Arnie protested loudly all the way to jail

* * * * *

Some noise, she didn't know what, woke Laura up. It was well past nightfall. "What the..." Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, as she looked around the room. She saw Arsenio and remembered what had happened. He seemed to be sleeping comfortably. "At least he isn't snoring," she said softly. "I guess _I_ get the couch tonight.

She stretched, feeling stiff from her hours in the chair, and stood up. She stepped over to the bed for one last check on Arsenio. He looked peaceable enough. "Just like a little boy." Without thinking any more about it, she bent over the bed and kissed him on the forehead.

"Fine thing," Arsenio said. "I go and save your life and that's the best you can do in the way of a good night kiss."

Laura gasped and straightened up. Arsenio was lying there with his eyes wide open and a big grin on his face, "Damn your ornery hide," she said. "I-I thought you were still asleep."

"I know. I figure whatever just woke you up woke me, too."

"Why didn't you say something then?"

"To tell the truth, I was still half asleep. I heard you say you was going to the couch, so I figured I'd just lay here and let you go. I didn't want you to be spending the night sleeping in that chair, and there's but one other place in this room that you could sleep." He grinned and patted the bed with one hand.

"As if," she said firmly. "The couch is fine, thank you. Good night."

"No."

"What do you mean, 'No'?"

"You woke me all the way up when you kissed me -- such as it was. Now I want a real kiss good night. One that'll fix me up for a night of sweet dreams, just like when I was a boy."

"I'll just bet you do."

"Aw, c'mon, Laura. It won't be like that. It won't mean anything more to me than if I was kissing my own mother."

"Now you're just being foolish."

"Then do it to humor an injured man." He rolled his eyes and faked a moan. "And one who got hurt because of you, I might add."

It bothered her to hear him say it, mostly because it was true. "All right, I'll do it." She sat down on the edge of the bed. "But if you try anything..."

He held up his right hand as if he was making a pledge. "Like I was kissing my own mother."

Laura puckered her lips and began to lean towards him. Arsenio suddenly put his hands on either side of her head and guided her mouth to his. Her mouth half-opened in surprise. She could taste the sweetness of the medicine on his breath, feel his tongue tickling her lips. Her body moved in close to his. Her arms rose of their own accord and began to wrap around his neck. She felt warm, happy, protected. She...

...was...kissing...Arsenio!

She jerked back and pushed him away with both her arms. Then she stood up and moved away from him, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. "Like you were kissing your mother!"

"We always was a close family."

"Arsenio Caulder, if you _ever_ kissed your mother like that, your father would have skinned you alive."

He grinned. "That's true enough, but you ain't really my mother, are you?" He paused a moment. "And you liked it, too; I could tell."

"Oh, yeah, how would _you_ know?"

"I've kissed enough girls in my time to know when one of them likes being kissed."

"Who says I'm a girl?" she demanded. "I know what I look like right now, but underneath I'm no different than I ever was."

Arsenio looked her up and down, from the hem of her skirts to the arrangement of her hair. "If it looks like a girl, walks like a girl, and _kisses_ like a girl, in my book, it's a girl."

"If that's what you think, then you got hit harder on the head than the Doc and I figured." She picked up the bottle of medicine and the spoon from the bed table. "I think you need another dose of this, and I mean _right now_."

"Laura, please, can't we talk a little about what just happened?"

"No," she said firmly. "Drink this right now before I start thinking that it was a mistake to ever move in here with you." She opened the bottle and poured some medicine into the spoon. She did it slowly, trying to control the tremble in her hands. "You take this now, and we'll talk later. Maybe."

Arsenio sighed. There was no point in arguing while she was this mad. He opened his mouth and swallowed the medicine.

Laura sealed the bottle and walked towards the door. "Good night, then."

"Laura."

"Now what?"

"Don't I get a kiss good night?" He grinned and wiggled an eyebrow at her.

She growled low in her throat and hurried out the door.

* * * * *

Laura unbuttoned her shoes and put them near the couch. She moved the two pillows to one end of the couch and lay down, resting her head on them. "I'll just sleep in my clothes," she muttered to herself. "I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me walking around tomorrow in my unmentionables."

As she lay there, an image came into her mind. She was standing in front of Arsenio wearing just her unmentionables. He was smiling, and she felt excited thinking of his eyes on her. In her half-asleep mind, she didn't try to cover herself up, but instead put her arms at her sides and turned full around slowly, letting him have a good look, liking the rapt attention in his face.

Then her clothes changed; she wasn't wearing the prim drawers and chemise that she wore every day, but a skimpy rig like she'd seen the sporting girls wearing in that "red light" parlor house back in Dodge City. She imagined a garter around her thigh, and a choker circling her throat. She could almost feel Arsenio's breath on her neck...snapping her suddenly awake. She shook her head a few times and the image was gone. For a while. It came back, and so did those same damned feelings.

"The hell with this," she said. She picked up the bottle of medicine. What had Doc said, "a calming influence"? She poured herself a dose and quickly swallowed it down. In about ten minutes, she was sleeping peacefully -- except for those odd dreams about Arsenio that she kept having.

She even woke up in a sweat once. The dream faded so quickly, though, that she only had a fleeting memory of herself in his arms, his strength controlling her, his mouth pressed so tightly against hers that their breaths came short.

* * * * *

Tuesday, September 26, 1871, Week 10 -- Day 5

"Fetch me some eggs, will ye, Jane?" Molly said. "We'll scramble them up for breakfast." Since Maggie had to stay home and feed her children, Molly was reinstated as the breakfast cook.

"Could we put in some of that left over ham from the 'Free Lunch'?" Jane asked as she took about a dozen eggs from the cold box in the floor.

"I don't see why not. We can heat up the ham first and use the fat that melts off for the cooking of the eggs."

"Good, I like eggs cooked that way." Jane carefully put the eggs into a soup plate. Then she looked directly at Molly. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Seems to me ye just did." Molly smiled, then her expression became serious. "All right, ask away."

"Why...why did you make me take that bath and make me do...what I did t'myself?"

"For the same reason that I had Laura show ye how to walk and sit."

"That...that ain't no real answer."

"_And_," Molly continued, "for the same reason that I have ye brush yuir hair 30 times every day and say 'I'm a girl' while ye were doing it." She paused a half a beat. "Ye got to be learning that ye're a woman now."

"I...I ain't no woman."

"Ye most surely are a woman, Jane, and ye will be for the rest of yuir life."

"No! You're...you're lying. I can change back."

Molly gently put her hand on Jane's shoulder. "No, Jane, ye can't. If thuir was a way t'be changing back, don't ye think that Wilma and the others would've taken it."

"I...I don't know. Wilma, she got all man-crazy. You couldn't pay her t'change back. The others, maybe they got reasons, too."

"All right, Jane. Let's say for now that there is a way. Ye can't be using it till yuir sentence is up, now can ye? That's still almost two months, right."

"I...I guess."

"Then let's us just be saying that I made ye take the bath just for them two months. Will ye go along with that?" Jane nodded. "Fine," Molly continued. "For them two months -- six weeks t'tell the truth -- ye've got the body of a girl, and I want ye t'be acting like a lady while ye have."

"Ain't I been acting like a lady?"

"Like a lady," Molly said with a laugh. "Ye was lumbering around like one of them big circus bears. I took ye to the baths t'get you to face the fact that ye _have_ a woman's body."

"I don't get what your saying."

"Ye remember the way yuir body felt in that bath...don't deny it. I can see from the way ye're blushing that ye do. That was why, to _force_ ye to accept the fact that ye had the body ye have."

"You mean that's how a woman's body feels?"

"Aye, sometimes it feels that way. Nice isn't it."

"I...I guess. My body still feels a little...funny. And the dreams I been having." Jane blushed again. She was trembling, still feeling bit of an afterglow of that other day's arousal.

"Ye're new to the feelings, so it takes a while for them to go away, but, yes, sometimes that's how a woman feels."

"Do you feel that way, Molly?"

"Sometimes...especially when I'm alone with...but that's me own business." She pointed to the stove. "Yuir business is to be cooking that ham, so get to it. We'll be having us a bunch of hungry people down here pretty soon."

"But what about the hair...and the sitting?"

"Cook now, Jane. We'll talk about the rest later."

* * * * *

"How are you doing with breakfast, Arsenio?" Laura came back into the bedroom just as Arsenio used the last pieces of a biscuit to soak up what was left of the ham gravy.

He swallowed the biscuit in one bite, washing it down with some coffee. "What breakfast," he said with a grin. "I see you changed clothes while I ate. You look nice."

"Thank you," she said with a tight, pleased smile. "I couldn't really wear what I had on yesterday. Not after I slept in it."

"I wouldn't mind."

"You wouldn't be the only one seeing it." She leaned over and took the tray off his lap and put it on the top of the dresser. As she did, she looked at him closely, looking for any sign of pain or stress. "You seem to be a lot better this morning, so I thought I'd go to work -- for a while at least."

"I do feel better. Say, what time is it anyway?"

"Almost 11. I thought you could use the rest, so I let you sleep late."

"Thanks. With the medicine...and everything, I had a pretty good night."

"Arsenio, are you going to start _that_ again?"

"Start what?" He looked upward, as innocent a smile as he could manage on his face. When she didn't react, he frowned. "Oh, come on, Laura. Maybe I did get a little bit out of hand last night, but you liked it, too...just a little."

"I most certainly did not." She suddenly wished that she'd played cards with Bridget more often. If she _ever_ needed a poker face, it was now.

"You most certainly _did_. I could tell from the way you acted. You was even starting to kiss me back."

"That must have been one of your better dreams."

"Then I guess you won't be kissing me goodbye, when you go to work."

"Not likely. You can take a nap and dream about it, if you want. That or elves or dragons or any other sort of fairy story."

"Nap? That's 'not likely' either. I expect to spend most of today sorting out the damage in my smithy."

"No! Doc said you needed to rest in bed for a couple days so your body could recover from what happened."

"Rest? I got a smithy to take care of." He pulled back the blanket and started to get out of bed.

"Arsenio, no. You have to stay in bed till tomorrow to make sure that you're all right." She shifted her body to try to block him from getting up.

"Laura, get out of my way. I've got work to do, and there's no way you're keeping me from it."

Laura knew the only answer to that, and it thrilled and scared her all at once. "Yes...yes, there is." She smiled to hide her fear. "You keep saying that you want to kiss me." She braced herself for what she was about to offer. "You stay in bed all afternoon, and I'll...I'll let you kiss me some tonight."

Arsenio sat there a moment, eyes wide. Then he began to laugh. Laura felt confused -- and _very_ insulted. "Arsenio, you stop laughing like that."

He studied her for a moment. "You know, I believe you'd actually do it." He wasn't laughing now, just smiling wryly.

Laura's hands moved down to her sides. She wasn't at all sure what to say or do.

Arsenio shook his head. "If my staying here in bed means _that_ much to you, then I'd be seven different kinds of bastard not to do it."

"Then...I don't have to..." she let the words trail off. She was relieved not to have had her bluff called, wasn't she? Or _was_ it a bluff? She suddenly wasn't sure herself. Confused and uncertain, she sat down on the edge of the bed.

He gently ran his hand along her cheek. "Laura, I'd be one very lucky man if you'd let me kiss you like I want...even more so if you kissed me back. But it has to be _your_ choice -- when and if you want to -- and not because you got forced into it to keep a pigheaded fool like me from hurting himself by getting back to work before he's really ready."

Laura took his hand in hers, turned and kissed it. She heard Arsenio take a breath as he shifted his body and pulled her to him with his free arm. Without thinking, she put her arms up around his neck and smiled in anticipation. Arsenio pulled her close and gave her a deep, lingering kiss. 'What am I doing?' she thought, but, somehow, she couldn't bring herself to let go of him.

When they separated to take a breath, she wondered if she should ask him to stop. If they went on much longer, she'd be late for work. Then Arsenio began to kiss her again, and she decided that being on time wasn't really _that_ important.

* * * * *

"Ramon," Aaron Silverman said softly. "The store is on fire."

"That's nice," Ramon said. "Just let me know when a customer comes in."

Aaron put his hand on the other man's shoulder. "What's the matter, Ramon? You've been walking around like you was still asleep since we opened on Sunday."

"Is nothing. I...I am fine."

"A man could die from such fine." Aaron looked around; they were alone in the store. "What's the matter?" He stopped and looked his employee and friend in the eye. "It's Maggie, isn't it?"

"No, no, it is...nothing." He slumped. "Yes, it is Maggie. How did you know?"

"Three things a man can't hide, coughing, poverty, and love," Aaron said. "You're in love with her. You have been for some time."

"Have I been that obvious?"

"No," Aaron chuckled, "I'm just a very wise man. So what if you have? Love is a blessing, not a crime."

"When the one you love does not love you, it is not a crime, it is a curse."

"Who says that she doesn't? You think that she comes in here all the time to flirt with me?" He stroked an imaginary mustache. "Besides, wasn't you telling me just a few days ago that she was letting you court her?"

"Si, but she...she changed her mind. She told me so Saturday -- at the dance. Sunday in Church, she walked right past me."

"Did she tell you why? Is she angry about something? If it's something you did, then take the advice of an old married man and apologize."

"It is nothing I did."

"Then _still_ apologize. It may not help, but it couldn't hurt."

"No, it...it is not like that. She says that she has a...duty to her children, something she promised her late wife. She says that she cannot think of anything else until she knows that they are well taken care of."

"Children. As the sages say, 'for children we tear the world apart.' You do have a problem, my friend. If you push her, it'll be like you're asking her to choose between them and you, and you already know what her choice will be."

"Si, and she will hate me for it. It is hopeless."

"As they say, 'a man should not lose hope so long as he breathes.' No, what you need to be is two things, patient and...there."

"What do you mean?"

"Did she ask you to wait?"

"No, but she did say that she still wanted to be my friend."

"Then be her friend. Be some one that she can talk to, some one that she can depend on. 'A good friend,' it is said, 'is like a tower of strength, and to find one is a treasure.' Be patient and don't push, whatever you do."

"It doesn't sound very easy."

"If love were easy, everyone would have some. Me and you are just two of the lucky ones."

"I do not feel very lucky."

"You are, Ramon. Maggie loves you; very much, I think. She's just got some...things she has to settle first. If you're there for her -- as her friend, that is -- she can get them settled that much faster."

"I will try," he smiled, a small smile. "Thank you, Aaron."

"Could you also maybe try to pay a little attention to your job. The way you was acting before, if a cowboy rode in here, I think you'd ignore him and wait on the horse."

* * * * *

Laura was sitting by herself at a table picking at a late lunch and just sort of staring out into space.

Doc felt a pang of concern. Was Arsenio all right? When Doc had examined him yesterday, it seemed mostly that the wind had been knocked out of him, that and a few bruises. Had he missed something?

Doc needed to know. Arsenio was a friend as well as a patient. He walked over and sat down across from Laura. "Hello, Laura."

She looked at him, no, through him. "Oh, uhh, hi...hi, Doc."

No time like the present. "How does Arsenio feel?"

Laura smiled broadly. "He...he feels so...so _very_ good." She blushed as she realized what she'd just said. I...I mean he's feeling okay this morning, Doc. He was when I...uh...when I left."

Doc tried not to smile at her slip. There was no sense embarrassing her. "Glad to hear it." He stood up and walked over to the bar to get a beer and to have a _long_ talk with Shamus."

Wednesday, September 27, 1871, Week 10 -- Day 6

"How are you feeling, Arsenio?" Laura asked as she walked into the cabin.

Arsenio was stretched out on the couch. He looked up from the book he was reading by the light of an oil lamp hanging from the low ceiling. "Pretty good. I'm planning to go back to work tomorrow if Doc says it's okay...and my _nurse_ approves."

Laura smiled. "She will if the Doc says you can."

"He will, I'm sure of it. Say, you're home early." He sat up and pulled a small watch out of his shirt pocket. "It can't be much after 10."

"It was pretty quiet at the Saloon with Slocum and so many of his men out on the trail. Shamus said that he could manage with just Maggie and Jane. He sent me home to look after you."

"I'll have to thank him for that some time." He patted the pillow next to him. "C'mon over and relax."

Laura walked over and sat down, but at the far end of the couch. "Over here," Arsenio said, patting the pillow again.

"I'm just fine here," Laura said. She was beginning to enjoy these little games that she and Arsenio played.

"You'll be more comfortable over here."

"Oh, will I now." She smiled and moved half the distance between them. "Now it's your move."

Arsenio took the hint and moved next to her. "Well, I guess this part of the couch does have _some_ things to commend it." He put an arm around her.

"Some things?" She smiled and let him pull her to him. Their lips met in a long sweet kiss. Laura's arms reached up to circle his neck as she moved in closer, pressing herself against him. Laura felt the warmth of the kiss spread through her body.

It still felt funny kissing a man. It was hard to believe that a few months ago she'd tried out every bawdy house between Indiana and Arizona. Now it was hard to believe that she hadn't been a little crazy in those days. Anyway, being intimate with Arsenio wasn't so bad, as long as nobody knew about it.

Then she felt a sharp twinge in the small of her back.

"Ow!" she moaned. She broke the kiss and sat up straight to ease the pain.

"Laura, what's the matter?"

"Shamus had Jane and me moving boxes around in the storeroom. I guess I lifted one wrong and strained something. It's been hurting on and off all day."

"Were you wearing your corset when you did the lifting?"

"No, why? I never wear it during the day, and with these twinges I didn't put it on tonight."

"You ever see a man wearing a wide belt while he was lifting something heavy? The belt braces him. I'll bet your corset would've done the same with all the whalebone built into it."

"Now he tells me -- ow! There it goes again. I'll never get any sleep tonight."

"Turn around and let me see if I can work it out for you." Laura shifted her body. Arsenio began massaging just below her shoulders. "Does this help or is it lower down?"

"Lower down, but...ooh, that feels good, too." Arsenio began to work his hands down her back, rubbing and kneading muscles as he went. "Oooh, yes," Laura finally said with a sigh. "Right there."

Arsenio began working the muscles in a different way. "This should help a fair bit, but you should put some liniment on it for overnight." Laura sort of half-moaned in agreement. "Good, I've got some in the smithy. I'll get it for you after I finish with these muscles."

After a while, Arsenio felt her tense muscles begin to relax. He worked them a while longer, massaging the pain out of them. "I think I can go get that liniment now," he said. "You just wait here." He stood up and walked towards the door to the smithy. "And no moving around."

When he came back with the bottle of liniment, Laura was sitting exactly where he'd left her. But...

"Laura," he said in surprise.

Laura had taken off her blouse and was holding it modestly in front of her. "I didn't expect you to put on the liniment through my clothes. I...I really can't reach back...there." Her voice trembled, but she wasn't sure if it was modesty, fear, or...or anticipation.

Arsenio tried to lift the back of her camisole. "It's too tight, Laura," he said. Now why was _he_ feeling nervous?

"W-wait a second," she said. Arsenio heard the rustling of fabric. "Try and lift it now."

Arsenio tried, and the camisole moved freely. "What..."

"I unbuttoned a couple of the bottom buttons." Her voice was quiet, soft, like a small child's.

Laura felt his hand against her bare skin rubbing something onto her back. She moaned in relief as she felt the heat of the liniment soaking into her muscles.

Arsenio worked to rub it in. Laura felt the heat on her sore muscles, but, as Arsenio rubbed, she seemed to feel a heat elsewhere. Her breasts felt warm and, when she breathed, she felt the soft muslin of her camisole rubbing against her nipples. It...tickled.

Arsenio's hands were creating the same sort of strong, pleasurable feelings in her body as she had felt in the baths. Could he do more, give her more pleasure? Without thinking, her fingers slowly moved up towards her camisole.

"There, how's that?" Arsenio stopped rubbing her back and lowered her camisole down against her back.

"It makes me feel...hot," she replied. Arsenio thought she had put a funny emphasis on the word "hot." He looked at her closely and saw that she was breathing heavily and her face was flushed. Her camisole was unbuttoned to the waist, showing the generous curves of her breasts. Her nipples pushed out against the fabric, looking stiff enough hang his tongs from.

Laura smiled, a tight and nervous smile, and took his right hand in her two hands. Surprised and curious, he offered no resistance as she lifted it and placed it on her breast. Her voice was barely a whisper. "I think I could use some liniment right here."

Arsenio looked her straight in the eyes to make sure she wasn't just teasing, then gently pushed the camisole aside. "Glad...glad to...oblige," he began, then found he had to clear his throat. Laura's jaw was set with expectation, and she was breathing deeply. "Right here, you say?" he whispered as he began to run his fingers across her bosom. She flinched. She obviously hadn't expected the feelings to be so strong; and she gasped and drew back. She looked so fetchingly nonplussed that he couldn't resist leaning down and kissing her on the lips. She gasped lightly once again, but then calmed. Over the last two days, she had become used to kissing him.

Arsenio suddenly used both hands to pull her to her feet.

"What...what are you doing?" She mumbled, as if he had awakened her from a light sleep.

"What I'm...what _we're_ doing is best done in the bedroom." He shifted his hold on her and scooped her up into his arms. Arsenio walked slowly toward the bedroom, giving Laura plenty of time to say "No" if she really wanted to.

She didn't say a word, though her startled look was like he'd seen on men going to their own hanging, not scared, but quieted by disbelief about what was happening to them. When they were in the bedroom, he put her down. Instead of bolting, she turned and faced him. Her camisole hung loosely, only half concealing her breasts. All of a sudden, her expression seemed to set with resolve. To his surprise, she reached out with trembling fingers and began to unbutton his shirt.

He stood still until she had finished and waited expectantly in front of him. He read in her eyes what she wanted him to do. Things seemed to be taking on a life of their own, moving fast even by his own estimations. He reached out and slipped her camisole over her shoulders. It slid down her arms and dropped to the floor, leaving her naked from the waist up.

"Oh, Laura," Arsenio said, putting his hands on her arms and drawing her in to kiss her lightly on the lips. When her breathing quickened, became eager, he moved his mouth downward, kissing her face, her jaw, her neck. He could feel her shiver when his hot breath tickled her breasts. Not stopping, he took a nipple into his mouth. At the same time, he fondled the other breast in his hand, stimulating the point with the careful friction of his thumb.

Suddenly, Laura clutched his head in her hands, not to push it away, but to steady it in place. Arsenio continued what she obviously found so pleasant, now sucking, now licking.

Laura moaned. She felt something building inside her; a feeling in her loins that grew stronger and stronger and stronger until it just...broke. Laura heard herself crying out and released him. Arsenio looked at her as he straightened, for an instant unsure what the yell had meant. He saw her stagger, look unsteady enough to fall. He swept her up in his arms just as she began to collapse. She felt light as a feather in his arms.

Arsenio carried Laura over to the bed and placed her gently upon the woolen blanket. She looked up at him through half-closed eyes and smiled as if embarrassed "Sorry I yelled" she said weakly.

"H-had enough?" he asked, his throat dry.

"No, have you?" she whispered, her gaze fixed on his.

Steeling himself to boldness, he quickly undid the buttons on her skirt. When she still didn't protest, he lifted her slightly with one arm, while the other slid the skirt down her legs and off over her boots. He tossed it on the floor, taking off his already open shirt and tossing it on top of the skirt.

Arsenio looked at her now, liking the way she looked when half-naked. It was a dream he'd had a thousand times. He felt himself stiffen as he undid his own trousers and stepped out of them. Damn good thing he hadn't bothered to put on his boots.

He saw that Laura's expression had suddenly changed. Now she looked like a chicken on a roost watching the fox down in the straw and wondering what she was in for.

Laura realized that her teeth were clenched. The small part of her that was still Leroy, that would _always_ be Leroy, hated what was happening. 'But I'm Laura now,' she admitted to herself for the first time, 'and she...and _I_ want him -- I need him -- to do this.'

'At least no one has to know,' she added to herself.

Without saying a word, she reached down and untied the ribbon that held her drawers tightly to her waist. When they were loose, she raised herself off the bed and slid them as far as she could down her legs. They got caught on her boot hooks, and she quickly got frustrated in struggling with them. She pouted. "You could help, you know."

Arsenio reached out and freed the drawers, carefully sliding them over her boots. Laura looked over and saw that his drawers were gone, too. She blushed when he saw her looking at his erect manhood, but she didn't look away. It seemed incredible to realize that she could have that effect on a man just by letting him look at her.

"You're no lady," he grinned.

"Wh-what do you mean?" she mumbled.

"A lady takes her boots off first." She laughed nervously and squirmed to one side of the bed as Arsenio climbed onto on the blanket beside her.

They just lay there looking at one another for a minute, as if wondering how they came to be where they were. Wanting to put Laura at ease, Arsenio reach out, put one hand under her head, and kissed her deeply, his tongue moving into her mouth. She passively let it play with her own tongue. At the same time, his other hand reached down to squeeze her breast. Lordy! She thought. But he didn't give her much time to think, for no sooner did he touch her than he heard her moan and slipped down on the bed to kiss her breasts.

At the same time, his hand moved down to her waist, then down to -- ooh! She felt a finger moving slowly through the curls between her thighs. She shivered and moaned again. Nothing had ever felt like this; not even that time when Leroy was with two gals at once.

Before she realized what she was doing, Laura had spread her legs as naturally as any sporting girl would have done. His thumb was caressing the entryway into her being. Part of her wanted to roll away and run, but her hips had other ideas. They began to move in time with the motion of his hand. That feeling...down there...was building again all through her body. Then she felt Arsenio shift, and his weight press her down into the mattress. The sensation of it took breath away, even though he was supporting most of his weight on his own elbows and knees.

She felt something else, something bigger than a finger touching her intimately and pressing slowly, gently but inexorably into her body. There was a moment of pain as if something tore inside her and she startled, thinking that she'd been hurt. Then she giggled with realization. Leroy might have been "experienced", but she was -- she had been until seconds ago -- a virgin.

She felt Arsenio moving deeper into her. The pleasure came back, stronger, more wonderful than ever. She reached around him, pulling him to her, telling him by touch of her wish to experience more of this.

He understood. He withdrew slowly out of her, almost completely out, then slid back in. He repeated this motion, setting up a rhythm. Laura cried out again; unable to believe that she was actually feeling what she was feeling. She saw that the pleasure grew greater if she matched his movements with the motions of her own hips. The pleasure grew and grew and grew until, inside her own body, she experienced one of those fireworks things that they'd set off back in Indiana on the Fourth of July when she was a boy.

Arsenio heard her scream and felt her fingers raking his back. This time knew knew exactly what her cry meant.

* * * * *

Thursday, September 28, 1871, Week 10 -- Day 7

They were just finishing breakfast when Milt Quinlan walked into the Saloon.

"Milt," Shamus asked, "and what are ye doing here do early in the morning?"

"Would ye like a cup of coffee?" Molly asked. "Maybe a bit of something to eat as well?"

"Coffee would be wonderful," Milt said. "Nothing more, though. As to why I came, you'd best talk to Jane. She's the one who asked me to be here."

"Jane," Shamus said suspiciously. "What's going on?"

"I...I just wanted to talk to Milt about my claim. I asked him to come early so's nobody would be around t'see. That's...that's all."

"She is entitled," Molly said. "How do you take your coffee, Milt."

"Black with sugar, thank you," Milt said. "I can show you the law on this if I need to, Shamus." He took the coffee cup from Molly and sipped. "Perfect."

"Och, they'll be no need for throwing the law at me," Shamus said. "Molly's right. Ye're Jane's lawyer, and she has the right to talk to ye if she wants." He pointed to a table far across the room. "Ye and her can sit over there for privacy. Just don't ye be taking too long, me girl. Ye've chores to do."

"I won't, Shamus," she said over her shoulder as she led Milt over to the table. She waited from him to sit down, and took the chair opposite him.

Milt took another sip of coffee and pushed his glasses back on his nose. He opened up a leather folder he'd brought with him and took out some papers. "Now what did you want to ask about?"

"I was wondering how it was going. You showed me that thing you put in the paper. Is it working? Is my claim...my claims safe?"

"They are, as far as I know. I haven't been contacted, at least not formally, by anyone. Jerry Dominguez and Mort Boyer, they're a couple of men who work for me, ride out every other day to check on those claims. They haven't said anything about seeing any signs of anybody around either claim." He paused and took another sip of coffee. "Does that answer your questions?"

"I guess so." She thought a moment. "What'd you mean 'not formally'? Did somebody talk to ya or not?"

"A few people asked about the notice when it came out. I don't believe it was more than idle curiosity."

"What do you mean 'idle curiosity'? Did they ask or not?"

"I mean people just wondered why I put the notice in _The Citizen_."

"What'd you tell them?"

"That I did it because you asked me to. You're my client, Jane. A lawyer is supposed to do what his client asks him to do." He put down the papers he was holding. "There's just one thing, though. A lawyer likes to get paid for what he does. Are you going to be able to do that...to pay me for all this work?"

Jane smiled. "I already said I can pay you...once I'm out of here, anyway, and I can get back to my claims."

Milt came alert. "Is there something I should know about those claims?"

"I...I don't think so. I think maybe I told you too much already."

He looked genuinely hurt. "Jane, I'm your lawyer. I take that very seriously, and I won't do anything to betray your trust. If I don't have that trust..."

"Now did I say anything like that? I...I just don't think there's anything else you need t'know, that's all."

"I hope you're right, Jane." He put the papers back in the folder. "I promise to report anything out of the ordinary that happens out at your claims...or if anyone asks me anything about them. Okay?"

"I...I guess so." She stood up and reached a hand across the table. "I guess I should thank you for helping me."

Milt stood as she did and shook her outstretched hand. "Just part of the job." Something told him that this case had just gotten a lot more interesting. Jerry and Mort were going to ride out later that day for a routine check. Milt ran his fingers through his thinning hair. He decided that he'd better ride out with them and get a better look at the two claims for himself.

* * * * *

Something moved on Arsenio's chest. He opened his eyes, lifted his head, and looked down. Laura was snuggled up against him, using his chest for a pillow. He felt her body against his, her _naked_ body. Sweet Heavens, it hadn't been just a dream. Without thinking, he reached down and gently stroked her hair.

His touch woke her. "Mmmmm, good morning." She looked up at him happily, a satisfied smile on her face.

"H-how did you sleep?" he asked, uncertain what else to say.

"Pretty good...once we got around to sleeping, that is."

"You ain't complaining, are you?"

"Hell, no!" She stretched like a cat. Her arms reached out far above his head, her body moved against his. Arsenio felt himself beginning to grow hard again. He'd almost forgotten how good it felt simply to have someone lying next to him when he woke up in the morning. "It is just such a _wonderful_ morning!" She said happily, like she meant it.

"Would you like to...umm...?"

She smiled and ran a finger through his chest hair. "Why, Arsenio Caulder, what sort of a girl do you think I am?"

"I _know_ what sort of girl you are..." He stopped. This wasn't the sort of time for a joke that might be taken the wrong way and spoil everything.

He hadn't felt this happy in years. He liked it, and he wanted to keep on feeling this way. "You're...you're the sort of girl that I want to wake up with every morning." The words had just slipped out, but he couldn't for the life of him find any reason to take them back.

"Arsenio, what do you mean?" She looked stunned. "Are you...?"

The words froze in his mouth. Was he? Yes! Yes, he was. "I...I guess I am. Laura Meehan, will you marry me?"

"M...marry," she said nervously. This was hardly what she'd expected. "Now wait a minute, Arsenio." She started to climb over him and out of the bed. "Last night was...nice; real nice; real, _real_ nice, but..." She stood up and wrapped Arsenio's robe around her.

Arsenio swung his feet over the side of the bed and stood up. "Why not?" He took a step towards her, put his arms around her, and pulled her to him.

"You ain't playing fair," Laura said. She felt herself pressed against him. She hadn't tied the robe, and now she felt her bare breasts mash against his hairy chest. She felt something else, too, something hard against her thigh.

"All's fair in love and war, and this is both." He pulled her head down to his and kissed her, a long kiss with all the feelings he had for her. When he finally broke the kiss, he asked again, "Now, will you marry me?"

"Ooh, yes." Her answer was more a sigh than a word.

She was quiet for a moment, then suddenly, realizing what she had agreed to, she looked to the door uncertainly. Her expression reminded Arsenio again of a woman on her way to a necktie party. He'd better to go see the Judge before she had time to say another word.

* * * * *

Arsenio ran into the Saloon no more than five minutes later. He was just wearing a pair of jeans, a wild look on his face. "The Judge," he yelled to no one in particular. "Where the hell's the Judge?"

"I'm right here, Arsenio," the Judge said walking over to where he stood. "What's the matter, man?"

"It's...it's Laura," Arsenio said frantically.

Now Shamus hurried over with Molly and Jane not far behind. "What's the matter with her?" Shamus asked.

Arsenio grinned from ear to ear, the biggest smile anyone had ever seen on him. "I...I asked her to marry me, and she was crazy enough to say, 'Yes.' I want you to perform the ceremony as quickly as possible before she has time to come to her senses." The words just spilled out of him.

"Well, congratulations," the Judge said, shaking his hand. "Let me be the first to say it."

Molly kissed him on the cheek. "Aye, Judge, but I'd have to be saying that she come to her senses when she said, 'Yes' to him."

"We'll have the wedding here this very afternoon," Shamus said. "That should be soon enough."

"Here?" Arsenio said. "I don't know if she'd want a big wedding."

"She ain't got no say in the matter," Shamus said merrily. "I claim the privilege as, well, as father of the bride." He slapped Arsenio on the back.

"I'd better go back and tell her then," Arsenio said.

"Ye'll be doing know such thing," Molly said. "If Shamus is the father of the bride, then I'm the mother -- though I might be getting an argument from Rachel on that. I'll go get --"

"Arsenio!"

Laura was standing in the Saloon doorway. Her hair was wild and uncombed, her blouse was only half-buttoned, her skirt was loose at the waist, and she was barefoot. She stormed over to where he was standing. "What the hell you mean running off like that?"

"I...uhh...I was so happy when you said 'Yes' that I ran over to get the Judge." Arsenio looked nervous. Was she going to back out?

"Of all the...I didn't know what happened to you." Laura said. "I got dressed as...I mean...umm...I came after you as quickly as I could." She looked at him angrily, embarrassed at what she'd just admitted. "You ain't gonna hold me to what I said, are you?"

"Hold you to what?" He had the beginning of an idea.

"Arsenio Caulder, you got me to say that I'd marry you by...well, you did. You asked, and I said I would. But you...got me to say it 'cause we was...Oh, hell, are you gonna make me marry you?"

Arsenio smiled. "Well, now, Laura, why you said 'Yes' is your business, but just the same, you _did_ say it." The smile became a grin. "And just now, you told everybody here that you said it."

Laura sensed a trap. "So?"

"So, Laura Meehan, you just told all these folks that you'd marry me. Are you gonna try and weasel out of it, or are you gonna be a man of your word and do it?"

Laura glared angrily at Arsenio. "You...you dirty...you tricked me."

"Maybe so, Arsenio said, "but I'm still waiting for an answer."

Laura looked at Arsenio, smiling at her, and at the crowd surrounding the pair of them. Say "Yes" to Arsenio, agree to be his...his wife? That was hardly the reason Leroy Meehan had left Indiana all those months ago. But she wasn't Leroy Meehan now, not by a long shot. She thought about what saying "Yes" would mean. It scared her, but then she thought about what saying "No" would mean, and what she'd lose if she said it.

"What about you?" she said angry at him for putting her in this situation. "You took me in a moment when I couldn't think straight. What kind of man would hold me to a promise like that?"

"I'll show you what sort of man." He took her in his strong, blacksmith's arms and kissed her hard on the mouth with the whole saloon looking on. He broke the kiss -- too quickly, she thought -- but still kept his hands on her waist. "Well?" he asked, looking directly at her.

Laura smiled, a small, timid smile, and looked coyly down at her feet. "Well, now...I-I wouldn't want to be known as a man who didn't keep his word."

Arsenio swept her up in his arms and gave her a second kiss that told her she had made the right choice. She knew what kind of man he was. Part of her wanted to kick him in the shins, but a bigger part of her was glad that he was that kind of a man.

"Now that ye're agreed," Molly said as they breathlessly broke the kiss, "ye can say goodbye to each other. Ye'll not be seeing your bride again till the wedding." She took Laura's hand. "Ye come back up to yuir old room, Laura. We've a lot of work to be doing between now and then."

"What?" Arsenio said.

Shamus put a hand on Arsenio's shoulder. "Lad, never try to stop a woman when she's planning a wedding. It just ain't a safe thing to do."

* * * * *

"Hey, Whit," Arsenio called as he walked into the barbershop. "You got time to give me a shave and a trim?"

"Don't see why not." Whit made a broad motion with his arm to show just how alone the two of them were. "There don't seem to be a long line ahead of you."

Arsenio sat down in the chair. Whit tied the barber's apron around his neck. Most men had a personalized shaving cup stored on the barber's shelves. Whit found Arsenio's, white porcelain, with a gold trim, and Arsenio's name over a golden anvil. He added shaving soap and water and began to work up a lather.

"What's the occasion, Arsenio? Seems like you were just in here a week ago. He used a small brush to apply some lather to Arsenio's face.

Arsenio grinned broadly. "Nothing much. I just think a man should look nice for his...wedding."

"Wedding? You mean you and Laura?" Whit asked.

Arsenio nodded.

"Well, now," Whit asked, "when did all this happen?"

"Last ni...I...uhh...mean I proposed this morning, and she said, 'Yes.' I'm marrying her this afternoon over at Shamus' place before she can to change her mind about it."

"A-yup, changing their minds is what women do best.

"I hope not, but if she does, you're going to be there to see it."

"What do you mean, Arsenio? You inviting me to the wedding?"

"No, I'm asking you to be my best man."

"Well, now, I am truly flattered, but why me?"

"Because you're my best friend. I wouldn't have made it when Eleanor died without you; I wouldn't have been here to meet Laura either."

"I didn't really do that much."

"The hell you didn't. I was down deeper than I buried the base for my anvil. You were there when I needed somebody to talk to, to scream at, or just to get drunk with."

"Don't give me too much credit for drinking with you. I always made sure you were the one to pay for my liquor."

"That's true," Arsenio said with a laugh. "You owe me for all that booze, Whit, and this is my way of collecting. Now will you do it?"

"If I agree, will you stop talking so I can give you that shave you asked for?"

Arsenio laughed again. "Yes."

"Then I will, if only to get you to shut up so I can do my job."

* * * * *

Laura was sitting on a bed in the bedroom she'd shared with the others. She was brushing her hair for the second time when she heard a knock at the door. "Who is it?"

"Ulysses S. Grant," called a feminine voice from outside.

Laura smiled and put down the brush. "Come in, Mr. President."

Wilma walked, almost strutted, in. She wore a red, crushed velvet dress that was cut just a little too tight. It was short enough to show a bit of ankle and low enough that she really didn't need to have left her top button open to show some cleavage. Her dark brown hair flowed down to her shoulders in waves. She held a small package wrapped in pink paper tucked under one arm.

"I see you got my message, Wilma," Laura said.

"Yeah, and it's a good thing you invited me. I heard about what you're doing, and I'd have been there whether you wanted me or not."

"Well, I _do_ want you. In fact, you can be a bridesmaid if you want."

"I ain't nobody's -- hold on. 'Bridesmaid', that's a good thing, ain't it?"

"It is. You want the job?"

"Don't see why not. Who else is there, and what do we gotta do?"

"Bridget's my other bridesmaid, and Amy Talbot is my matron of honor. You just walk up the aisle to where the Judge is standing. Shamus and me'll be right behind you."

Wilma laughed. "Me and the Sheriff's wife standing up together in front of a judge. Who'd've ever thought it?"

"Then you'll do it?"

"Sure will. I always said you'd wind up with Arsenio. Standing up there with you'll show just how right I was." She thought for a moment. "Say -- how come you know so much about weddings anyway?"

"Don't you remember? I had five sisters back in Indian that had to be married out before I could come out here and join up with you."

"Oh, yeah. Do they know what happened to their big brother?"

"No! And I'm not planning to tell them. Shamus sent them a copy of that story Nick Varrick wrote about us all dying in a shootout."

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to him about that story. I read it, and we come off looking pretty stupid, riding into a trap like that."

"He was in town just a couple days ago. Didn't you see him then?"

"Oh, I seen him. He heard I wanted to see him, and he come over to the House." She giggled. "We didn't do much talking, though."

"Wilma!"

"Well, we didn't. They's other things a man and woman can do together besides talk. That reminds me. I brung you a present, something you can wear for the wedding...or for later. What do they say, 'Something old, something blue...'?" She handed Laura the package.

"Thanks, Wilma," Laura said. "It's 'Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.' She tore at the paper. "Oh, my, it's...it's beautiful. She lifted up a white camisole, trimmed in yellow lace. The left shoulder was completely covered with a mass of slate blue artificial roses.

"You can use it for 'new' or 'blue', then, whichever you want."

"Thank you." As Laura looked at the camisole an odd expression came onto her face. She slowly put it down on bed next to her. "Wilma, can...can I ask you a question?" Her voice seemed drained of any emotion.

"Sure, what d'you want to know?"

"How...how can I get out of this...this wedding?" She looked overwhelmed, desperate.

"What's the matter?" Wilma asked with a snigger. "You got the jitters?"

"Don't I though," Laura said. I feel like doing what my sister Hanna -- she's the next to oldest -- did; she bought herself a train ticket out of town the day before her wedding."

"What's bothering you then...and why are you asking me? I thought Bridget and Maggie were your good friends."

"I just can't bring myself to talk to them right now. Look at me, Wilma." She gestured toward her body. "Three months ago, I was Leroy Meehan, fresh out here from Indiana and loaded for bear. I was gonna make myself a reputation as a gunman -- have me some fun. That's why I joined up with you and the others in the first place."

"So?"

"So, now I'm..._Laura_ Meehan, a woman sitting here in her unmentionables getting ready to marry some man I didn't even know back then. I...what the hell am I doing? Have I any business, any business at all, pretending that this is who I am, who I want to be?"

Wilma scratched her head and looked at Laura for a minute. "First off, you ain't pretending; you _are_ a woman."

Laura gave a pained grimace. "It's easy to say that; it ain't half so easy to live it."

"Well, I've already come around to the idea that I'm a woman, and don't go saying that that's only because I got a second dose of the potion. Don't you dare say it!"

"I won't; I won't," Laura sighed, still looking at her knees.

"You damn well better not. I'm tired of hearing it from the rest of you." She took a breath. "All that potion did was force me t'see that I _was_ a woman. Maybe it rubbed my nose in it, but then it let me see just how _good_ it felt t'be a woman." She smiled. "That's what you're gonna find out tonight."

"I...aahh..."

"Is that what you're afraid of...having sex as a woman?" She shook her head. "Of all the...look, you wasn't no virgin when you was a man. Hell, didn't you tell me you stopped off at every House between Indiana and Santa Fe."

"Not all of them," Laura said with a tortured smile. I was moving kind of fast on the way out here.

Wilma chuckled. "You shopkeepers who cut loose are the worse kind." Wilma reached down and lifted Laura's chin, so that their eyes met. "Well, I weren't no virgin either. I've walked on both sides of the street now, and, let me tell you, sex is just as good, maybe even better -- no, it _is_ better as a woman. You'll get on to that later, when you're...alone with Arsenio. That's when you'll find out just how good being a woman can get."

Wilma watched to see Laura's reaction. She expected a cringe. She only got a guilty look, and _suddenly_ she knew why. "You already know!" she exclaimed with a burst of laughter. "You already been with him, ain't you?" She laughed again. "You ain't marrying him 'cause you love him. You're marrying him so he'll make an honest woman out of you!"

"I'm marrying him because I gave my word that I would."

"Yeah, you always said you was a man of your word."

"I am."

"Then why are you asking me how to get out of it?"

"Because I'm scared," she whispered. "More scared than I've ever been in my life...in either life."

"Now what the hell have you got to be scared of?"

"I'm scared of being a woman, of being _his_ woman, for the rest of my life. I don't know how to be a real woman, and that's what he deserves."

"Seems to me that don't matter."

"What do you mean?"

"It ain't a matter of what Arsenio deserves, Laura. It's what he wants, who he wants. And the woman -- yes, dammit, the _woman_ he wants is you. Anyway, you're going to be a woman whether you hitch up with him or not. The only choice you got is trying to be happy or trying to be miserable."

"That's just it. I'm not sure that I am a woman, not deep inside."

"No? Close your eyes."

"Why? I don't --"

"Close your damned eyes!"

"They're closed; they're closed."

"Now, you think of Arsenio, picture him in your mind."

"All right, but I don't see what --"

"He's standing there...naked. His arms are stretched out for you. He's smiling at you. Now...what are you doing?"

"I'm...I'm just standing there feeling scared."

"Keep them eyes closed. What else are you doing?"

"I'm walking over to him."

"He takes you in his arms and kisses you. What are you doing? Are you fighting him? Trying to break away?"

"No, I'm --"

"You're doing what any _woman_ would do with the man she loves." Wilma paused a half breath. "You do love him, don't you?"

"I-I guess I do." She opened her eyes and smiled. "I do; I really do."

"Love him enough to marry him?"

"I'm...not sure."

"Whenever a gal says she's not sure, it means she's plenty sure. I knew that even when I was a man. Wilma slapped Laura on the back. "I said you loved him, and now I know I was right. I think you're crazy to settle for just one man, though. You ever _do_ get tired of him..." she nudged Laura with an elbow, "...you come over to _La Parisienne_. There's always lots of men for you t'love over there."

"Wilma!"

Wilma laughed and slapped Laura's back again. "Gotcha!"

* * * * *

"And so," the Judge continued, "by the power and authority vested in me by the Township of Eerie and the Territory of Arizona, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." Arsenio took Laura in his arms, his kiss somehow drowning out the cheering crowd. The Judge finally got them to separate and turn to face everyone. "Ladies and gentlemen...friends, may I present to you all Mr. and Mrs. Arsenio Caulder."

The cheering started up again. The Happy Days Town Band struck up the wedding march. Arsenio took Laura's hand and led her over to the head table.

Maggie and Jane were standing near the table, transferring food from a cart. "Congratulations, big sister," Jane said. "I guess that makes you my brother, Asenio."

"Brother-in-law," Laura corrected. "Sorry about that, Arsenio. I guess Jane's part of the package."

Arsenio squeezed Laura's hand. "That's all right, Laura. I figure you're worth a hundred Janes."

Laura kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for that," she whispered. Up until now, her stomach felt full of knots. Now that the irrevocable step had been taken, she suddenly felt a strange calm, like a lull in the middle of a storm.

As she said it, she noticed Maggie looking across the room, a tear running down her cheek. Laura looked in the same direction. Ramon sat in a chair looking back at them. "Why don't you go over and say hello to him?" Laura asked.

"I...I have all this work to do," Maggie said. "The food to cook and to serve. There is no time for such things."

"If there's one thing I've learned in the last few days, Maggie. There's _always_ time for such things. You want to stay here and serve the meal, fine, but I expect you to stay for the dancing, too."

"I...I will stay for a while." Maggie smiled, just a bit.

"You better. And you remember one other thing."

"What..what is that?"

"This is my party...mine and Arsenio's, and we're changing the rules. Tonight a person can dance with somebody else as many times as they want."

* * * * *

After the ceremony, the twenty or so guests milled around the bar, talking and helping themselves to the food and liquor. A few sat at the cloth-covered tables, an expanded version of "Maggie's Place." Almost a half hour had passed when Shamus gave a yell that quieted the room. "The happy couple will now start the dancing," he announced.

"That's us," Arsenio said. He took Laura's hand and led her to the center of the room. The band began to play a waltz, as he took her in his arms.

"It had better be," Laura teased as they began to move to the music.

Shamus and Molly were the second couple onto the floor in the role of "father and mother of the bride," as Shamus said to someone. He was usually too busy running his business to have the chance to dance with Molly, and he was happy to take this opportunity.

Aaron and Rachel joined them on the floor a moment later. "The _other_ mother of the bride," Aaron said merrily, pointing at his wife. "Go figure."

Bridget and Wilma were standing together, watching more and more people dancing. "You going to dance?" Bridget asked.

"I hope so," Wilma said. "Ain't nothing I like more than being in a man's arm. 'Course, I usually don't have all these clothes on at the time."

Bridget was about to answer when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see who it was.

"May I have the pleasure of this dance," R.J. asked formally.

"Sure you can," Wilma said, pushing Bridget towards him.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," R.J. said, accepting Bridget's lack of resistance as consent. He took Bridget's hand and led her through the crowd to the dance floor.

* * * * *

"Care to go again?" Shamus asked Molly, as the band began a second tune.

"I'd love to Shamus," Molly said, giving him a slight peck on the cheek. It was as much affection as she ever showed him in public. "But right now, I'm thinking that there's another one -- out in the kitchen -- that needs to be pushed into dancing."

"Later, then," Shamus said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Ye go get her, and I'll be getting Ramon. We'll meet at the bar."

Molly hurried towards the kitchen. Shamus looked around the room. Ramon was sitting alone at a spare table. Shamus walked deliberately over. "I thought I saw ye over there, Ramon. Come join me over to the bar for a drink in honor of the newlyweds."

"I do not think so, Señor Shamus. In fact, I was just thinking of going home."

"Ye can't do that," Shamus said. "Don't ye know that tis bad luck for anyone to leave a wedding without having themselves a drink to the happiness of the bride and groom."

"I have never heard that. Besides, I...I already had a drink."

"Not with me, ye didn't, and I'm the father of the bride, after all." He grabbed Ramon's arm and tugged. "Now, come on. One drink won't hurt ye, and it'll be good luck, I'm sure of it."

Ramon shrugged. "You sound like Aaron. 'Have one,' he would say, 'it could not hurt.'" He got to his feet. "Why not, I suppose. It really would not hurt."

Ramon followed Shamus to the bar. Shamus leaned across and pulled out a bottle of scotch. "Ye don't think I'm going to be drinking the swill I put out for everyone else," he said with a wink. He opened the bottle -- Ramon saw that it was identical to what was on the bar -- and poured.

Ramon was about to drink when he heard a voice. "Molly, I must get back to the kitchen. The soup..."

"Jane and I will take care of the soup, Maggie," Molly said firmly. "And all the rest of it if need be. Laura's yuir friend, and it'll be bad luck for her and Arsenio if ye don't have a bit of a drink now to celebrate the marriage."

"But..." Maggie said.

Ramon chuckled and turned around to face the women. "It seems that these two _casamenteros_...these matchmakers think bad luck will happen if we do not dance together in honor of Laura and Arsenio."

"That is ridículo," Maggie said. "Besides, I have to get back to the meal." She kept looking back and forth between Ramon and the kitchen.

Ramon took her hand and looked into her eyes, reading the nervousness she felt. "Perhaps it is, but Señora Molly says that she has the cooking under control. One dance..." he said wryly. "...it could not hurt."

* * * * *

"Stop the music," Shamus yelled. "They're about to be bringing out the food. Everybody take yuir seats."

Ramon walked Maggie towards the "head" table, the Free Lunch cleaned off and covered with Molly's best tablecloth. She took a seat at the end nearest to the kitchen -- just in case. Every other seat was taken.

"I will sit over there," he said, pointing to another covered table some distance away.

Maggie looked at him for a moment, then stood up. "So will I," she said. She took his hand, and they walked over to the table.

* * * * *

"Not bad," Shamus said, tasting the soup. "Maggie outdid herself on this meal.

"Aye, she did," Molly said, "but she wasn't the only one. Jane fretted and fussed over the food after Maggie went to dance with Ramon. The way she carried on ye'd have thought it was her that cooked it. She said she wasn't going to let anything ruin her sister's wedding supper."

"Jane did that," Shamus said in amazement. "That food isn't 'not bad,' it's truly amazing."

* * * * *

Whit stood up and tapped at his glass. When everyone had quieted down, he began talking. "My friends, there's many good things I could say about my friend, Arsenio Caulder...but you all know him, so how could I get away with lying to you?"

"Laura, you got a hard-working man there. You'll know that in an hour or so, and we'll all know that you know when we see you walking funny tomorrow. That is, _if_ you two decide that you want to leave your bed -- I mean, your cabin tomorrow."

Whit felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down. "Oh, stop frowning, Carmen. The best man is supposed to make a funny toast."

"You better start then," Carmen said with a very straight face.

When the laughter was done, Whit lifted his glass of wine and continued. "Seriously, Arsenio...Laura, you've both had trouble in your lives. It would've broken a lot of folk, but it just made you two better people. And, in the end, it brought the two of you together. You love each other, and we wish you every happiness that the pair of you deserve." He took a drink of the wine and sat down.

"My turn," Wilma said, jumping to her feet. "This here's the damnedest place I ever seen. I ain't sure I want to make a toast. After all, I've had some pretty funny drinks in this Saloon. Laura, you just remember what we talked about this afternoon. Oh...and if you want any advice on what you're going to be doing later tonight, you just let me know."

"Maybe you'll be the one needing the advice," Laura called out. Then she realized what she'd said as the room filled with laughter.

"Well, cock-a-doodle-do," Wilma said, arching an eyebrow in surprise. "Arsenio, you'd better take care of her, or I'll come after you m'self."

"I can't let you do that," Arsenio said. "I'm married now."

"You just remember that. And, if you can't, I suspect Laura will be there to remind you," Wilma said, taking a sip of wine, "and best of luck to the both of you." She sat down to another round of ribald laughter.

* * * * *

The band was playing again, a polka this time. "Enjoying yourself, Mrs. Caulder?" Arsenio asked.

"Yes, I am, _Mr._ Caulder. Why do you ask?"

"Some of the folks have left already. I was just wondering how long we needed to stay here."

"Why, Arsenio," Laura said, looking around. "We are the Guests of Honor. Though, I think we could dance right over to the kitchen door without anyone noticing."

"I knew I married a smart woman," Arsenio said and began moving with her towards the kitchen.

* * * * *

"Dan," Amy giggled, starting to feel her wine. "We really should go back inside." They were in the back yard of the Saloon, sitting on a bench against the side of the building.

"Why?" Dan asked. "Who's really going to notice that we're gone?"

"We might," someone said behind them. Dan and Amy turned. Laura was standing there with Arsenio. "Except, we're sneaking out ourselves, so we can't tell anyone," Laura said.

"Turnabout's fair play," Dan said with a wink. "We won't tell anybody that we saw you leave."

"Thanks," Arsenio said. "Say, as long as you've come this far away from the party, why don't you just head home." He paused a moment. "Or don't you want to bother that little boy of yours?"

"Jimmy," Dan said. "He isn't home. Mrs. Lonnigan, the Doc's nurse, is watching him. She's got him, Whit's two kids, and Maggie's kids all over at Whit's place. We pick him up in the morning."

"You mean _I_ pick him up," Amy said. "You're right, though, Arsenio. Dan will have to go inside for my shawl, but I think that we'll...take advantage of the opportunity."

Dan took the hint and headed back towards the kitchen door. "Best of luck to the both of you."

"I got my luck right here," Arsenio said, putting an arm around Laura's waist.

* * * * *

Sam Braddock walked over to the bar. Blackie Easton handed him a scotch. "No luck for you either, huh?" Blackie asked.

"Same as you," Sam said. "I was just about to dance with Bridget when R.J. came over. Without a by your leave, she just walked away from me, and went out to dance with him."

"That must be six times she's danced with R.J."

"At least. Cap will be back in town in a few days, and I don't think he's gonna be very happy when he hears about it."

* * * * *

Friday, September 29, 1871, Week 11 -- Day 1

Another person pounded on the locked door to the Saloon. "Hey, it's 11 AM," an angry voice yelled. "Open up."

"Ye'll have to be opening up the place eventually, Love," Molly said. "Isn't it done yet?"

Shamus looked up from the mixture he was working on. "In a minute or so, Molly girl. I've made me hangover cure hundreds of times, but it's been a long while since I had to make it for meself.

* * * * *

Arsenio looked across the table at Laura. "Enjoying your breakfast, _Mrs._ Caulder?"

Laura smiled at the sound of her new name. "I surely am, _Mr._ Caulder." She was still wearing the fancy chemise that Wilma had dressed her in for the ceremony the day before.

'She is so incredibly beautiful,' Arsenio thought. 'Thank you, Lord. Thank you for this...for Laura.' Then he noticed that she seemed to be picking at her food. Was something wrong? Was she having second thoughts? "We...umm...we got married kinda quick, Laura. I mean, I proposed to you right after the first time we...umm...ahh...then I dragged you off to the Judge before you had time to come to your senses. I was just...I was...wondering if you maybe had any regrets."

Laura blushed and looked down shyly for a moment. Then she raised her head and leered -- actually leered -- at Arsenio. "Only one, Mr. Caulder, only one. I am sorry that we had to stop and get out of bed to have breakfast."

* * * * *

Saturday, September 30, 1871, Week 11 -- Day 2

Epilog

Shamus smiled and looked up at the audience. "And that, me darlin' Readers, is the 'Tale of the Eerie Saloon.' I hope ye --"

"_That's_ the tale?" Molly interrupted. "Not by a half, it is. What about when Paul went into the wilderness after Jessie, or who Bridget finally chose and how she come to choose him, or Maggie and Ramon, or -- whoost -- there's all them people that ye haven't even mentioned yet, all the way down to the Sheriff's little boy, Lieutenant Jimmy, and how he found _his_ true love."

"Quiet, Molly," Shamus said quickly. "There's nobody that likes a Spoiler. I know about all them stories the same as ye do. But for now, though, let's give Ellie and Chris a chance to rest a bit. They've been working on this tale for over a year. They told it -- told it well to my thinking. Now they wants to be seeing what other people have to say about it."

"Besides, they'll be plenty of time for them to be telling the rest of the tales now and then."

 

The End (For Now)

Coming Soon: "Jessie Hanks: Queen of the Outlaws"

  

  

  

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