Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“I’m going to have a baby,” she said, hoping that would discourage him.

Luke looked at her belly. “Not for a while yet,” he said. “This ain’t gonna take no month. It probably won’t take six minutes. I’ll pay you. I won good money playing cards back at the Fort.” “No,” Elmira said. “I’m afraid of Zwey.” She wasn’t really, but it made a handy excuse. She was more afraid of Luke, who had mean eyes—there was something crazy in his looks. He also had a disgusting habit, which was that he liked to suck his own fingers. He would do it sitting by the fire at night—suck his fingers as if they were candy.

Luke kept climbing up on the wagon and putting his hands on her, but Elmira kept saying no. She dreamed of Dee occasionally, but other than that she had no interest in men. She thought about telling Zwey that Luke was bothering her, but Zwey was not an easy man to talk to. Anyway, it might start a fight, and Luke might win, in which case her goose would be cooked. Zwey was strong but slow, and Luke didn’t look like a man who would fight fair.

So when Luke snuck back and climbed onto the wagon seat, Elmira possumed. She couldn’t stop his hands entirely, but she made herself into a tight light little package and concentrated on driving the mules.

When Luke saw he wasn’t going to change her mind with talk or the offer of money, he tried threats. Twice he cuffed her and once shoved her completely off the wagon seat. She fell hard and barely got out of way of the wagon wheel.

Immediately she thought of the baby, but she didn’t lose it. Luke cursed her and rode off and she climbed back up and drove the wagon.

The next day he threatened to kill Zwey if she didn’t let him. “Zwey’s dumb,” he said. “He ain’t no smarter than a buffalo.

I’ll shoot him while he sleeps.” “I’ll tell him that,” Elmira said. “Maybe he won’t sleep. Maybe he’ll kill you, while you’re at it.” “What have you got against me?” Luke said. “I mostly treat you nice.” “You knocked me off the wagon,” she said. “If that’s nice treatment I’ll pass.” “I only want a little,” Luke said. “Only once. We’re still a long ways from Nebraska. I can’t go that long.”The next day he caught her off guard and shoved her back in the wagon by the hides. He was on her like a terrier, but she kicked and scratched, and before he could do anything the mules took fright and started to run away. Luke had to grab the reins with his pants half down, and when he did Elmira grabbed Zwey’s extra rifle. When Luke got the mules stopped, he found a buffalo gun pointed at him.

Luke smiled his mean smile. “That gun would break your shoulder if you fired it,” he said.

“Yes, and what would it do to you?” she said.

“When I get you you’ll wish you’d give it to me,” Luke said, flushing red with anger. He got on his horse and rode off.

Zwey came back well before sundown with a wild turkey he had managed to shoot. But Luke wasn’t back. Elmira decided she might as well tell Zwey. She couldn’t tolerate any more of Luke. Zwey was mildly puzzled that Luke wasn’t there.

“I chased him off with the gun,” Elmira said.

Zwey looked surprised. His mouth opened and the look spread up his big face.

“With the gun?” he asked. “Why?” “He tried to interfere with me,” Elmira said. “He tries it nearly ever day, once you go off.” Zwey pondered that information for a time. They had made a mess of cooking the turkey, but at least it was something to eat. Zwey gnawed on a big drumstick while he pondered.

“Was it he tried to marry you?” he asked.

“You can call it that, if you like,” she said. “He tries to do me. I want him to let be.” Zwey said nothing more until he had finished his drumstick. He cracked the bone with his teeth, sucked at the marrow a minute and then threw the bone into the darkness.

“I guess I better kill him if he’s going to act that way,” he said.

“You could take him with you when you hunt, like you used to,” she said. “He couldn’t pester me if he’s with you.” She had hardly spoken when a shot rang out. It passed between the two of them and hit the turkey, knocking it off its stick into the ashes. They both scrambled for the cover of the wagon and waited. An hour later they were still waiting.

There were no more shots, and Luke didn’t appear.

“I wonder why he shot the turkey,” Zwey said. “It was done dead.” “He didn’t shoot the turkey, he missed you,” Elmira suggested.

“Well, it tore up the turkey,” he said, when they came out of cover and picked up the cold bird.

That night he slept under the wagon with a cocked pistol but there was no attack. They ate cold turkey for breakfast. Two days later Luke showed up, acting as if he’d never been away.

Elmira was apprehensive, fearing a fight then and there, but Zwey seemed to have forgotten the whole business. About the time Luke rode up they spotted two or three buffalo and immediately rode off to shoot them, leaving Elmira to drive the wagon. They came back after dark with three fresh hides, and seemed in good spirits. Luke scarcely looked at her. He and Zwey sat up late, cooking slices of buffalo liver. They were both as bloody as if they’d been skinned. Elmira hated the smell of blood and kept away from them as best she could.

The next morning, before good light, she woke up gagging at the blood smell and looked up to see Luke sitting astraddle of her. He was rubbing his bloody hands over her bosom. Her stomach heaved from the smell.