Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

“That gal don’t need beefsteak, she can just eat you if she’s hungry, Dish,” Jasper said. “I expect you’d make about three good bites for a woman like her.” Dish flared up at Jasper’s insulting tone, but he had the plate in his hand and was in no position to fight.

“I’ll settle you when I come back, Jasper,” he said. “You’ve provoked me once too often.” “Hell, you better run for the border, then, Jas,” Soupy Jones said. “With a top hand like Dish after you, you won’t stand a chance.” Dish had to mount holding the plate, which was awkward, but no one offered to help.

“Why don’t you walk?” Po Campo suggested. “The tent is not very far.” That was true, but Dish preferred to ride, which he did, managing not to spill any of Lorena’s food. She was sitting just inside the tent, with the flaps open.

“I’ve come with some food,” Dish said, still on his horse.

“I’m not hungry,” Lorena said. “I’ll wait till Gus gets back.” It seemed to Dish that she was as grudging in her tone as ever. He felt foolish sitting on a horse holding a plate of beefsteak, so he dismounted.

“Gus is after them horsethieves,” he said. “He might not be back for a day or two. I’m supposed to look after you.” “Send Newt,” Lorena said.

“Well, he went, too,” Dish said.

Lorena came out of the tent for a moment and took the plate. Dish was paralyzed to be so close to her after so many months. She went right back into the tent, “You don’t need to stay,” she said. “I’ll be all right.” “I’ll help you with the tent in the morning,” he said. “Captain said we’re to ease on north.” Lorena didn’t answer. She closed the flaps of the tent.

Dish walked back toward the campfire, but he stopped about halfway and staked his horse. He didn’t want to go back to camp, even to eat, for he would just have to box Jasper Fant if he did. It was full dusk, but to his irritation Lippy spotted him and came walking over.

“Did you get a good look at her, Dish?” Lippy asked.

“Why, yes,” Dish said. “I delivered her supper, if you don’t mind.” “Is she still as beautiful?” Lippy asked, remembering their days together at the Dry Bean, when she had come down toward noon every day. He and Xavier would both wait for her and would feel better just watching her walk down the stairs.

“Why, yes,” Dish said, not wanting to discuss it, though at least Lippy had spoken respectfully.

“Well, that Gus, he would end up with her,” Lippy said. “Gus is too sly for the girls.” “I’d like to know what you mean by that,” Dish said.

“I seen him trick her once,” Lippy said, remembering the extraordinary wager he had witnessed. “He offered to cut the cards for a poke and he won. Then he paid her fifty dollars anyway. And he paid me ten not to tell Jake. He didn’t pay me nothing not to tell you, though, Dish,” Lippy added. It occurred to him suddenly that Gus might consider that they had breached their bargain.

“Fifty dollars?” Dish said, genuinely astonished. He had never heard of such extravagance in his life. “Did he actually pay it?” “Well, he give me the ten,” Lippy said. “I imagine he give Lorie the fifty, too. Gus ain’t cheap, he’s just crazy.” Dish remembered the night before he had hired on with the Hat Creek outfit, when Gus had lent him two dollars for the same purpose on which he had apparently spent fifty. There was no figuring the man out.“You oughtn’t to blabbed,” he told Lippy.

“I ain’t told nobody else,” Lippy said, realizing himself that he shouldn’t have blabbed.

Lippy soon went back to the wagon, subdued by his own indiscretion, but not before assuring Dish that the story would go no further.

Dish unsaddled his horse and got his bedroll. He lay on the blanket all night, his head on his saddle, thinking of Lorie, wondering if his chance with her would ever come.

The Kansas sky was thickly seeded with stars. He listened to the Irishman sing the sad songs that seemed to soothe the cattle. He spent the whole night thinking about the woman in the tent nearby, imagining things that might happen when they finally came to Montana and were through with the trail. He didn’t sleep, or want to sleep, for there was no telling when he would get a chance to spend another night close to her. His horse grazed nearby on the good grass, which grew wet with dew as the morning came.

Dish saddled a little before sunup and rode out to look at the herd, which was perfectly peaceful. Then he went to the wagon, ignoring Jasper and Soupy, who were as insolent as ever. He wanted to teach them both a lesson, but couldn’t afford the time. The herd had to be set moving, and somebody would have to hold the point. It was a ticklish problem, for he couldn’t hold the point and help Lorie too. He fixed a plate for Lorena and just grabbed a hunk of bacon for himself.

“Why, look at him, he’s taking her breakfast,” Jasper said. “Dish, you’re so good at toting food, you ought to work in a hotel.” Dish ignored this sally and walked over to the tent with the plate of food. He was hoping she would be in a talking mood.

All night, as he had lain awake, he had thought of things he might say to her, things that would make her see how much he loved her or convince her how happy he could make her. If he could just get her talking for five minutes he might have the opportunity to change everything.

But when he walked up to the tent, Lorena was already standing outside it, buttoning her shirt. She turned and he stopped and blushed, fearful that he had ruined everything by approaching at the wrong time. All the speeches he had practiced in the night left him at once.

“I brought your breakfast,” he said.

Lorena saw that he was embarrassed, although she had only had the top button to go on her shirt. It was just a second of awkwardness, but it brought back memories of her old life and reminded her how it had once pleased her to embarrass men. They might pay her, but they could never really get their money’s worth, for being embarrassed. She had only to look them in the eye for it to happen—it was her revenge. It didn’t work on Gus, but there were precious few like Gus.