Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“Let me come in,” he said, “I will give you anything... more than Gus.” She shook her head. “Jake would kill you,” she said. “You go on now.” “I can’t,” he said, still crying. “I am dying for you. If he kills me I would be better. I will give you anything.” Again she shook her head, not quite sure what to think. She had seen Xavier have fits before, but usually fits of anger. This fit was different. His chest was heaving and his eyes poured tears.

“You should marry me,” he said. “I will be good to you. I am not like these men. I have manners. You would see how kind I would be. I would never leave you. You could have an easy life.” Lorena just kept shaking her head. The most interesting thing he said was about the boat. She didn’t know much, but she knew Galveston was closer than Denver. Why was Jake wanting to ride to Denver, if they could take a boat?

“You better leave,” she said. “I don’t want Jake to catch you up here. He might shoot you.” “No!” Xavier exclaimed. “I will shoot him! I have a shotgun. I will shoot him when he comes back if you don’t let me in.” Lorena hardly knew what to think. It was crazy behavior. Xavier didn’t seem to want to budge from the stairs. He did own a shotgun. It was not likely Jake would let someone as pitiful as Xavier shoot him, but then if he shot Xavier, that would be almost as bad. He already had his Arkansas trouble from shooting someone. They might not get to leave if there was a shooting, and Xavier looked desperate enough to do anything.

Then Xavier began to pull money out of his pocket. It was hard to say how much he held out to her, but it was a good deal more than fifty dollars. It might even be a hundred dollars. The sight of it made her feel tired. No matter what plans she made or how she tried to live, some man would always be looking at her and holding out money. Without giving it much thought, Mosby had started something that nothing seemed to stop. She thought Jake had stopped it, but he hadn’t. His talk about killing men was just talk. If he had cared that much he would have shot Gus, friend or no friend. It was hard to believe he would even shoot Xavier—probably he would just give her another slap and forget about it.

“Please,” Xavier said. “Please. I need you.” At least it might calm him down, she thought, opening the door. Also, he was usually quick as a rabbit when he came to her.

“I ain’t messin’ this bed,” she said. “It’s the last sheet.” Xavier didn’t care. He put the money on her little chest of drawers and turned to her. Lorie shut the door and leaned against it, lifting her shift. With a grateful look Xavier dropped his pants. Soon his legs were trembling so she was afraid he would collapse before he was done. But he didn’t. When he finished he put his head against her bosom for a moment, wetting her breasts with his tears even as she felt his drip on her thigh.

Then he stepped back and pulled up his pants.

“Goodbye,” he said.

“Well, I ain’t left yet,” she said. “We’re not going till afternoon.” Xavier looked at her once more, and left. His look startled her. It was like the look in her Pa’s eyes, when he died in Baton Rouge. She watched him go down the stairs. He went slowly, as if feeling for each stair. He had scarcely been in her room two minutes, but her shift was wet with his tears. Men were all strange, but Xavier was stranger than many.

When he finally made it to the bottom she turned and hid the money. It was just one more secret she had from Jake.

LATE THAT AFTERNOON, as the boys were sitting around Bolivar’s cook fire, getting their evening grub, Augustus looked up from his plate and saw Jake and Lorena ride into camp. They were riding two good horses and leading a pack horse.

The most surprising thing was that Lorena was wearing pants. So far as he could remember, he had never seen a woman in pants, and he considered himself a man of experience. Call had his back turned and hadn’t seen them, but some of the cowboys had. The sight of a woman in pants scared them so bad they didn’t know where to put their eyes. Most of them began to concentrate heavily on the beans in their plates. Dish Boggett turned white as a sheet, got up without a word to anybody, got his night horse and started for the herd, which was strung out up the valley.

It was Dish’s departure that got Call’s attention. He looked around and saw the couple coming.

“We got you to thank for this,” he said to Gus.

“I admit I was inspired,” Augustus said. He knew his friend was in a silent fury, but he himself thought the visit might provide a little amusement. It had been in short supply lately. The only thing there had been to laugh at was Allen O’Brien getting pitched into a pile of prickly pears by a bronc. When he emerged he even had thorns in his beard.

But that was a normal hazard, the horses being unreliable and the prickly pear abundant.

A woman in pants was far more unusual. Jake rode right up to the cook fire, though Augustus could tell from his manner that he was nervous.

“Howdy, boys,” he said. “Mind if we make a meal?” “Course not, you’re as welcome around here as money, Jake,” Augustus said. “You and Lorie too.” Call watched the proceedings silently, unable to decide who he was more aggravated at, Gus or Jake. Surely the latter knew better than to bring a woman into a cow camp. It was difficult enough to keep men peaceful even if they didn’t have a woman to argue about.

“Woodrow, you know Lorie, I reckon,” Jake said, although he knew it wasn’t true. Call’s silence had always made him nervous.

“We’ve not met,” Call said, touching his hat but not looking at the woman. He didn’t want to get angry at Jake in front of all the hands, and all but Dish and the two Rainey boys were lounging around eating their evening meal. Or, at least, they had been lounging. Now they were sitting as stiffly as if they were in church. Some looked paralyzed. For a moment the only sound in the camp was the jingle of a bit as the woman’s horse slung its head.

Augustus walked over to help Lorena dismount. The sight of the boys all sitting like statues made him want to laugh. The sudden appearance of a Comanche would not have affected them as much.

He recognized the brown mare Lorie rode as having belonged to Mary Pumphrey, the young widow.

“I would not have thought Mary would give up her mare,” he said.

“Jake bought her,” Lorena said, grateful that Gus had come over to offer her help. Jake had not so much as looked at her since they rode into camp. She had never seen Captain Call up close before, but she could tell Jake was mighty uneasy about him.

It depressed her a little that she was left to depend on Gus’s courtesy from the very outset. He took her over to the cook fire and saw that she got a good helping of food, talking casually all the while, mainly about the qualities of the Pumphrey mare. Jake followed and got some grub but he was silent when he did it.