Yankton

Chapter 15

Chapter 15 Mission of Mercy

Before we got out of bed, I told Montana, "I didn't get a chance to tell you the other day, but Moon had a tidy little sum in dust and nuggets, I want to split it with you and Melonie." "But what about you and Mark?" she said. "Mark and I will get our money from guns and other stuff we pick up. Moon had an army colt as well as a saddle rifle I'll sell them at auction, look, I told you everything gets split evenly, all the way around." Before going downstairs, Montana and I checked in on Kitty, who was moving up to my place today where she could be watched. 'How ya doing kid?" I asked. A still weak Kitty gave a half smile and said, "Thank you so much, I owe my life to your friend." I turned on my phone and brought up the pictures of a very dead Abner Moon. "Got something here that will cheer you up, take a look at these, they are actual photographs Montana here will verify them." I showed her the pictures and said, "That son of a b***h won't be stabbing anymore women, I took care of his ass." Kitty attempted to move and gasped, "I-I-ve got a little money put aside, to pay you…" I stopped her, with, "Don't you worry Kitty It's all been taken care of, we'll be moving you up to my place a little later, you'll be able to get a lot of rest up there."

I had breakfast with Dora and her girls, the situation with Abner Moon was all over the place, and it was apparent my stock had gone way up, I think every one of those girls would have let me "service" them free of charge with all the "trimmings" thrown in, but I think Montana would have had something to say about that. After we ate, I fooled around on the piano until Mark and Melonie showed up to take Kitty up to my place. Mark pulled me aside, "Say buddy I hope you don't mind, but Mel and I kinda…" "I heard," I quickly replied, "Everything's cool, it's looking like it's gonna be you and Melonie , Montana and I." This seemed to greatly relieve him as he dove right into asking how things went with Moon. "Well, I'm here aren't I, Moon's history, and speaking of which, I brought back a couple guns and some gear we can sell at auction, got some gold I'm splitting between Melonie and Montana as well. Melonie must have been feeling guilty as well, because she came up to me and tried to explain. "Relax Melonie, everything's just fine, Montana filled me in, we're cool." "I think I've fallen in love with Mark, I've never met a man just like him, uh oh besides you, but…" "It's cool Melonie," I assured her, "Everything is working out, now we'd better get Kitty out onto the carriage."

Mark and I fabricated a stretcher, and laid some boards across the seat of the carriage so we could lay the stretcher down on it. Dora promised Kitty she'd pay her a visit in another day or so, as Montana accompanied us back home. We drew attention as we passed through a part of town among those interested was sheriff Bullock who caught up with me following behind the carriage with the horses and gear. He asked me what was going on so I got off my horse and told him. "Guy named Abner Moon stabbed the woman you see lying in the carriage there, a few nights ago, we're taking her up to my place where my partner can keep a better eye on her." It turned out that Bullock was acquainted with Moon, and said, "I'll be sure to keep an eye out for him if he comes around here again." I chuckled, "Sheriff, If you see Moon it'll be his ghost, the Abner Moon situation has been rectified that's his horse there I'm going to sell. I gave him an honest chance to surrender, he refused, shooting at me instead, what was I to do?" Bullock just looked at me in an accusatory fashion when I added, "Listen sheriff, I'm not some trigger-happy shootist, where I come from we don't generally resolve our problems this way, but Moon learned a very valuable lesson." Aware that he wasn't going to get any farther with me, he then said, "All right if I send doc Cochran up there to have a look?"

"You can if you want to, but Mark probably has more medical knowledge than Cochran, but you do as you please." Bullock started to leave when I said, "Sheriff, one more thing, has Wyatt Earp showed up yet, I'd like to meet him." Bullock gave me a strange look, "Why would you think he's come around here?" I shrugged and just smiled, "Oh no reason, just wondering."

I resumed my trip back home, helping Mark carry Kitty inside, she would be staying in Melonie's room. Carefully we eased her off onto the bed as Mark kept checking her for any signs of bleeding. Montana and Melonie fussed over her shooing Mark and I out of the room so they could change her bandages and under things. Mark came outside with me to help unload Moon's gear, and look at the guns I recovered. "How far did you take him?" asked Mark. "Slightly over 200," I replied, "One shot did it." I indicated on my own body where the bullet caught him. Together, we repacked the canvas into a roll, "I was planning on taking this stuff down to the other place, I think we'll be able to use the tent as well as some of this other stuff," I said. We looked Moon's horse over deciding that he was the better choice to sell, Mark wanted his saddle, preferring sell the army saddle at auction. Back inside, I sat down with Montana and Melonie, where we divided up Moon's gold. I showed everybody the two gold coins Moon had on him giving Mark the twenty dollar piece, the ten dollar one to be sold back in 2013.

That evening, Mark and I got to talking about things we were going to have to return home to get bringing up the she sale of Moon's horse. In the end however, it was decided that buying a buckboard and using the our designated pack horse to pull the buckboard would be a better option. Melonie gave her input on what she knew of buggies, telling us about something called a market wagon. The next day while she watched over Kitty, Mark and I took Moon's horse into town to see what we could get for him. At he third stable we visited, the man gave us slightly over one hundred dollars for him Mark was sure we could have gotten more, but neither of us really knew anything about horse trading. Irregardless, the money didn't last long, as all of it plus Mark's twenty dollar gold piece bought us a decent buckboard and harness. We bought it at a place that was selling wagons and such. We drew a lot of good natured ribbing after asking the man in charge to show us how to harness a horse to the wagon. My horse was "elected" to pull the wagon, something He balked at, but with help we got him all hooked up and headed back home.

After Mark got Melonie set up with a new lesson, we loaded some of my carpentry tools along with Moon's stuff on the wagon, hitched the pack horse to it and took off for the ranch I'd bought. Mark thought it was a good set-up, and thought we could do quite a bit with the shack. While we were there I secured all the windows, and re-enforced the door so nobody could break in. Before we left, Mark started looking at the creek flowing in front of the place. "I don't know about you old buddy," said Mark, "But I think this creek could use a closer investigation as he scratched the creek bed with a stick, there in the running water were traces of gold. Back home, Mark and I threw up a rough framework with the canvas over that creating an impromptu "barn" for the horses. I'd brought my chain saw so cutting posts and beams took no time at all. We were a little concerned that the strange noise might draw unwelcome guests, but perhaps the rocks muffled the engine noise, anyway our horses now had a place to stay out of the weather.

The day we were planning to go back to 2013, Montana brought news that Swearingen was expecting a fresh arrival of fresh "talent" and that we should try and thwart his plans.

"If you gentlemen could get us more of that medicine you call Tylenol and more condoms, Dora will pay for a wagon, and maybe even your hero Calamity Jane to handle it ," said Montana. "There's a stage stop south of here called Cheyenne Crossing, we can meet the stage there, and convince the girls to come with us." "I take it you plan to go," I asked. "Absolutely," replied Montana, "Do you think a bunch of girls from the east are going anywhere with you men do you?" "The stage isn't due in until tomorrow morning, so I'll go try and find Martha and meet you just south of Lead along the stage route." With that, Montana left so Mark started packing his gear, and giving Melonie instructions on Kitty's care. An hour later we were ready to ride. "I figure we could put them up temporarily at the shack until we can escort them someplace Swearingen can't get them," I said. Mark agreed, as we hurried south. We waited a little over an hour for Montana and Calamity to show up. It was quite obvious Calamity had been drinking, both Mark and I introduced ourselves to an irritated Calamity, but we were polite which seemed to put her in a better mood. Mark was still getting used to riding, and I was still learning as well, but Calamity didn't seem too eager to pick up the pace so it was just after dark when we got there.

The stagecoach people all knew Calamity, and offered us some venison stew they had just prepared. We didn't tell them what our real purpose was in being there, except that we were there to meet the stage. One of the men there mashed a thumb while fixing a coach, so Mark treated him, Montana got a game of poker started with Calamity joining in. The stories I'd read were all true, she did have a course tongue on her, and as Mark and I sat by ourselves he asked, "So that's the real Calamity Jane? Doesn't much look like the woman who played her on "Deadwood," isn't she buried on Mount Moriah?" I nodded, "This is one of the reasons I came back in time, to meet people like her," I said in a low voice. "To read about them is one thing, but to actually meet and watch them is beyond imagination. In exchange for letting us sleep there, I offered to cook breakfast for everyone, something that was much appreciated. They were out of coffee so we shared our supply. While we waited, Mark and I had an opportunity to talk with Calamity, who was now pretty much sober, she told us some funny stories, and even autographed a notice the stagecoach had posted, I discretely removed for said purpose. Later on I got her signature again mainly for my own collection but the stagecoach notice might bring us a buck or two.

At close to nine, someone shouted that he stage was coming, so Mark, Montana and I got ready. There were four of them all prim and proper genteel young ladies from the east heading for something they hadn't the slightest clue. As soon as they got off, Montana and I went to talk to them. "Are you ladies by any chance going to Deadwood to work for a Mr. E.A. Swearingen," asked Montana. "Yes ma'am, they said, "It is our understanding that we will be working in his establishment, a hotel I believe, said one of them calling herself Rebecca. Montana then described to the women what he really was expecting them to do, sparing none of the lurid details. She then introduced me as the man who had already rescued one young lady from his clutches. Even Calamity confirmed the truth causing them to start crying in terror. We then explained what we were there for and that we would take them to a safe refuge until such time as they could gather funds to return home. There was a brief argument between them and the coach driver about getting off early until Mark and I made him see reason. We loaded everybody up on the wagon with the ladies sitting on their carpet bags and headed back north.

Mark and I rode on either side of the wagon chatting with the ladies who were now greatly relieved at their rescue. All were from Chicago and all claimed to have left paying jobs based solely on Swearingen's ad in the paper.

Montana continued to fill them in on what Mr. E.A. Swearingen was really all about, nothing more than a white slaver. Skirting Deadwood, we reached the shack just at dusk, Montana and Calamity had to get back quickly so they didn't stick around, Mark had to get home as well to check on Kitty and Melonie, but promised to bring us some supplies tomorrow. So it looked like it was just me and four lovely ladies. "I'm sorry we can't offer you even a bed here girls," I said, I've only had this place a few days, so you're just going to have to "rough it" I had the idea of bringing in straw from the barn and piling it in a corner then laying a coupe blankets over that, it wasn't the greatest, but they didn't complain. I fixed some freeze-dried food we'd brought along with coffee and stayed up half the night just talking.

Since there wasn't much to do but talk, I chatted with the girls learning their names, Rebecca Murphy, Sara Bracken, Jenifer Toliver, and JosephineCarney. All were from around the Chicago area, so I asked them, "How's Chicago doing after the fire?" 'Oh they are busily building away although there are still large areas filled with rubble," replied Jenifer. All wanted to know more about Swearingen and even Montana, so I told them, "Swearingen is scum, I've already killed two of his goons who were trying to kidnap Melonie Bishop, and beat the hell out of two others that got in my way. I would love nothing more than to simply kill him, but for reasons I can't go into I cannot, but we'll see to it all of you get home safely. Everyone of them pledged to do what they could to combat Swearingen's advertising in the Chicago papers. As I talked to them, I became aware of the way they spoke, and the words they used. Their language was filled with words you didn't hear much anymore in 2013, people in the twenty-first century would consider such verbiage ostentatious, and in some cases, the definitions had changed, but it was all part of living in the nineteenth century. Finally all but Sara laid down on the straw pallet and tried to sleep, "I was most impressed by the woman that was with you," said Sara. "You mean Montana?" I replied. "Yes," she said, "Tell me about her?" I studied her for a moment, then said, "Are you sure you want to hear this, I would think a young lady such as yourself would be scandalized by such talk." She guffawed, and said, "Oh poo, this "young lady" as you term me has experienced quite a bit in my short years on earth, I used to walk by four saloons on my way to the shop and the language coming from those dens of inequity would make a sailor blush."

"Well as I already told you Montana, who's real name is Abigail Carter worked for Swearingen as a… Dancer in his so-called music hall. She currently works as an, um…Sporting lady, and card dealer for one Dora DuFran, a remarkable woman who I support. Dora runs another sporting house, a somewhat more refined establishment than you would normally find in Deadwood. Montana and I are seeing each other, and if you think this disgraceful I'm sorry, I love her and want to do right for her. I look past the social stigma's but more at what a person truly is, and if that sort of thing bothers you, then sorry 'bout that." "Don't get so upset Mr. Yankton," replied Sara, "I make no judgments either, It was her who warned us of the danger awaiting us, and for that I'm eternally grateful." Not having much more to say she turned in as well, I maintained a semi-watch as I had been thinking about Swearingen's reaction when he learned that his "property" had been diverted at Cheyenne Crossing, and I was pretty sure it wouldn't take him long to figure out who was responsible. I also began planning for the possibility of his goons showing up here in the morning to reclaim his "property" at the cost of my life.