Yankton

Chapter 39

Chapter 39 If You Build It, They Will Come

I spent a lot of the next day over at the clinic, not because I was sick or anything, but because those kids were infectious. Melonie really took an interest in them, and later, Mrs. Moss came by to offer advice. Sockie tried a few more times to get them to talk, but Mark was right, something had shocked them so badly, they simply refused to speak. On top of that, their general attitude seemed to be fear of everything, or as Mark pointed out,

"These kids are trapped in a sort of prison, children naturally fear a world of adults they don't know, and besides that, they can't speak English so they can't communicate. I've asked Sockie to talk to them every chance she gets, I don't know…I hope it helps."

It took a couple of days for our young charges to realize that we meant them no harm, they were getting "three hot's and a cot" and that people genuinely cared about them. They still wouldn't speak so we didn't know their names yet. Mark and I sat down with Melonie and discussed modern psychology or at least as much as we knew about it. Mark had had a little more experience with it in the form of combat stress, as well as the effects of shock. Much of what we told her flew in the face of what she believed or could understand the fact that three of us were telling her basically the same thing seemed to convince her that there must be some merit to what we were saying. Both children remained inseparable, but we told everybody they had to be patient only time could begin the healing process. Mrs. Moss was also an invaluable source of comfort for them as well, she and Travis would stop by once or twice a day to offer advice, and for Travis to try his hand with Steinar, as a sort of "one on one," kid to kid thing, and although Steinar seemed to relax around him, nothing solid had happened yet.

A couple days later, Craig and I rode down to Deadwood to pick up some supplies, and deposit money in the bank, a visit to see Mr. Ellsworth at his gun shop was also a strong possibility.

By now, Craig had finally started to adjust to life here in 1877, although he tended to piss and moan like my sister every time he started to miss his modern conveniences.

We were tying the buckboard to the hitching rail when I happened to spot two obvious "soiled doves" across the street staring at me with one of them pointing my way. I changed direction and crossed the muddy street to see what they wanted. Approaching the two, I asked,

"Is there something I can do for you ladies? I saw you pointing at me." The one who had been pointing giggled and replied,

"Are you Brian Yankton?" I tipped my hat and smiled,

"The one and only, say, I notice we're getting a lot of dirty looks why don't we move a little farther down the street I know a place where we can talk and we won't get so many negative stares." They agreed, so we found a short side street out of the path of general street traffic that afforded a little more privacy.

"Now what is it I can do for you ladies?" I again asked.

"My name is Mary, and this is Klara, We work at the Bella Union, and my friend here is having problems with Mr. Miller and we heard you and Montana Carter run a place north of here perhaps you could hire my friend here?" I looked at the second woman who besides had what looked like a bruised eye and other minor lacerations on her face had a very unusual aristocratic look about her.

"My name is Klara Meijer, Mr. Miller does not seem to care for me anymore but I cannot simply leave as he claims I owe him fifty dollars which I do not. I have heard stories about you and how you have…Helped…Others."

I shrugged,

"I've helped damsels in distress a time or two, Montana and Melonie Bishop are two you may have heard of, but there are others."

"Please, Mr. Yankton," began to plead Klara

"I wish to speak with this Montana concerning possible employment; I have heard she is very considerate of her…Girls."

"Well she does tend to take care of them pretty well; we've got a pretty good team up in Purgatory. As for employment, I can't really say, Montana hasn't said much lately about needing anyone, but then again, I don't get into that part of things, I do know there is one empty bedroom. I'd be glad to escort you down there so you can speak to her." I then looked at her friend,

"How about you, I doubt Montana will hire both of you but we can always ask." She shook her head,

"No, I get along with Mr. Miller all right, he just has it in for Klara for some reason, I'll be fine."

"I-I-have no money to pay the debt Mr. Miller claims I owe him, could…Could…"

"Could I pay off your "debt?" I injected, "Well it's your lucky day Ma'am, it just so happens I've got fifty dollars right here in my pocket. I'll tell you what, let's go see this Mr. Miller, and I'll make him an offer he can't refuse, plus it will get your friend here off the hook, C'mon, let's go."

With the two whores in tow, we walked back up the street amid rude comments and catcalls until we reached the front door of the Bella Union. Entering, it took my eyes a couple seconds to adjust but my nose was telling me it found this place offensive. I spotted Miller getting up from a gaming table heading right for us, with an angry look on his face.

"Klara, Mary, what are you doing, we've got customers, get to work!" Mary started to leave, but I stopped Klara,

"Hold on there "slick," I said, "I've come here in Klara's behalf, got an offer you won't be able to refuse." Miller gave me a dirty look then suspiciously asked,

"What sort of offer?"

"Well, Klara here tells me you claim she owes you fifty dollars." Pulling the gold and paper currency from my pocket, I laid it on the table.

"Here's the deal, you take the money here I take Klara, and as an added bonus, you get to live, otherwise, this room get's decorated with your brains, and from where I stand dyin' don't seem like a very good option."

Miller came right up to me and snarled,

"Get the hell out of here and take your money with you she owe's me a whole lot more than fifty dollars."

"Well that's not what she told me, and actually, she claims she owes you nothing, so take the money and we'll be off."

"Say," he growled, "You're that man who stole Swearingen's whores from him, well you ain't gonna do it with me, get the hell out!" I sighed and replied,

"I don't know if you read about it I know it was in all the papers, but a few years ago thousands died to free the slaves, we can always add one more to that body count. I'd be real careful Miller," I replied, voice dripping with malice.

"Mr. Dead is standing right at your side, just about to put his arm around your shoulder, if you know anything about me, you know I'm a real "life taker and heartbreaker," death is only a whisper away, are you ready to meet him?"

Something about the way I said that made him pause and think. My right hand was poised to reach inside my vest for my .45 he knew it and changed his mind. Snatching up the money he again snarled,

"Take her and get out, get the hell out!" I reached for Klara and then added,

"Oh one more thing Miller, don't get any ideas of sending your goons after me thinking of teaching me a lesson, or getting her back, check with Swearingen on this, he'll tell you, everyone he sent after me is pushing up daisies, but in your case I'll personally hunt you, you'll never hear the shot that kills you. You could be walking across the street, looking out a window, maybe even walking to the outhouse to take a s**t, next thing you know you're drifting skyward looking at your dead body lying in the mud wondering "How the f**k did that happen, I didn't even hear the shot." I kid you not Miller, I'm a professional, and you're an amateur guess who will "ace" this one, just something to think about." As we were just starting to leave Klara's friend approached carrying a carpetbag and handing it to Klara with just a simple "good bye Klara, good luck."

Craig was aghast at my threats against Miller, constantly looking over his shoulder watching for the man or one of his henchmen to come after us.

"Relax Ruckerman," I exclaimed, "We're clear, Miller knows my reputation, he smarter than Swearingen…or at least I hope so." Finishing our business, we made our way over to the buckboard where sheriff Bullock was standing. Tipping my hat, I said,

"Good afternoon sheriff, am I correct in thinking that Mr. Miller came running to you like a little boy demanding I give his "toy," back?" Bullock obviously didn't like me hitting so close to the truth, and shifted uneasily.

"He tells me this woman owes him money, and that you made off with her at gunpoint, is that true?" I shrugged,

"Please sheriff," injected Klara, "Mr. Miller wouldn't let me leave unless I paid him fifty dollars which he claims I owed him, I did, until I finally paid him off last week, now he lies and says that I still owe him. Please sheriff, this man is only trying to help me, he paid off the debt with his own money without me asking."

Bullock looked at her for a moment, then turned to me,

"You certainly have a way of putting yourself at the center of trouble, I'm still trying to take care of those hiders your friend shot." I frowned, then replied, I'm sorry sheriff, but here's the thing, now I didn't make this up, a famous man said it once, but it fits me to a tee."

"I won't be wronged. I won't be insulted. I won't be laid a-hand on. I don't do these things to other people, and I require the same from them." Bullock gave me a strange look before asking,

"Do men do these sorts of things where you come from?" I grimaced, and sighed,

"Unfortunately, sheriff, they do not, but if I were to tell you the whole story about that, you'd think me a liar, because in your mind, society couldn't have fallen that far." All he could do was slowly shake his head, and say,

"Just leave, stay out of town for several days."

. As we rode north towards Purgatory, I kept thinking about the woman sitting next to me, Clearly, there was something about her I couldn't really put my finger on, she sat up straight, and kept her eyes focused forward. Her slight accent hinted at German, so I asked,

"Sind sie von Deutschland?" Klara turned to me with a surprised look on her face,

"Oh ja, ja, ich bin." I was pretty close to the end of remembered words and phrases, I retained from my high school German, although a few days leave in Berlin had refreshed some of it.

"Ich bin in Berlin gewesen,"

"Oh ich bin aus Berlin sowie!" she squealed, indicating that she was from Berlin, then she asked,

"Sprechen sie viel Deutsch?" I grimaced, and shook my head,

"Nicht sehr viel mehr." That was it, except for a few single words my German was all used up.

"I'm sorry ma'am," I began in English," I learned it in High School, brushed up on it a little when I was in Germany, but that's it for me." She smiled,

"I understand, I likewise learned English at the university, perhaps when we know each other better, we can talk." I smiled,

"I would like that very much." As we traveled north to Purgatory, Craig, who ws riding in back would occasionally comment on the passing scene, or make abrupt comments on things that struck his fancy. Occasionally, Klara would glance back then look at me. All I could do was shrug. As we rode along, I kept thinking there was something about this woman that was unique, don't ask me what it was, all I know is that sometimes you can just look at someone and tell right away there's something special about them.

Taking a chance, I asked her,

"Klara, could I ask you a personal question, you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

She put her head down, and I could see a sadness in her face,

"What is it you want to know?" she replied.

"You don't really want to do this, do you?" She turned to me her face expressing a deep sadness.

"No…no I do not, but what else can a woman in my position do? My husband…" Her voice trailed off.

"Well Klara," I replied, "I think god is smiling on you, as I've got something else in mind if your interested, let me explain." I then described the boarding house Craig and I were starting to plan, and that I was looking for someone to run it.

"I think you could really make the place work," I said with enthusiasm, "You would not only live there, but have complete control over the place. You could cook or hire someone to cook for you, it would be strictly up to you."

She didn't seem to comprehend what I was telling her at first, then it must have sunk in,

"You would do this for me?" I grinned,

"Klara, I think you have a story to tell, and when you're ready, I'll be ready to listen."

"You said this boarding house hasn't been built yet, what will I do in the meantime?"

"We've got a small mercantile shop but no one to operate it yet, I think it would be a good way to get your feet wet, or in other words, gain experience, become part of our staff, and get to know everybody." Unfortunately, not everyone wanted to know Klara, case in point, Montana. I believe this is also when we had our first real fight, giving Klara a dirty look, she turned to me and demanded to know why I brought "that woman" here.

"Because Abbie," I snarled back,

"I happen to be an excellent judge of character, and I feel that Klara will make an excellent manager for the boarding house, until it's finished, I plan to have her run the convenience store, I need someone smart enough to trade for the sort of stuff I'm looking for."

Montana thought she smelled a rat, practically accusing me of trying to move another woman in right under her nose. By this time Klara was extremely upset and close to crying.

"Please," she begged,

"I do not wish to cause such discord, If your friend could give me a ride back to town, I will leave." I looked at her shaking my head,

"I'm sorry Klara, but you're not going anywhere, I got you out of your situation because I spotted someone I thought could run the boarding house we WILL be building. Now, Klara, I'm sorry to have to put you through this, but I don't believe in keeping secrets, let's get this hashed out right goddamned now!"

Turning to a glowering Montana, I spoke firmly,

"Now you listen to me Abbie, and listen good, I am NOT moving in another woman, you're still the one, and you always will be. Klara is here to do a job for us. Unfortunately, I can't go out and grab someone off the street just as soon as that boarding house is finished, believe me, there's plenty for her to do around here until that time…Hell! Teach her how to run that second Faro table you've been wanting to open. Now, before we go any farther, I want you to apologize to Klara here." I think Montana was surprised by the way I jumped into her s**t the way I did, but I could see that I hadn't entirely won her over, Lowering my voice, I gently placed my hands on her arms.

"Look Montana, I really mean it, you are the one, there is no other, I know you haven't had the greatest luck with men, but your luck has changed, just trust me, and give Klara a chance here." I could see the gears turning in her head, but surprisingly, Montana cracked a smile reached out her hand to Klara,

"Please forgive me Klara, I acted rashly and without thought, a woman in my profession sees too much, and is often forced into situations with men of a lesser caliber. Now, Brian is right, I do want to establish another Faro table here, if you like, I would be honored to teach you how to run it . By the way, do you know what I'm talking about, or what Faro is?"

"My…Husband, was very fond of the game, in Paris…" Realizing she had revealed too much, Klara stopped herself, "Yes, I believe it is very similar to Basset, a very popular game in Europe." Montana and I looked at each other with questioning looks.

"Very well," replied Montana, please remain here, I wish to talk to you further," turning to me she brusquely said,

"Don't you have things to do? Perhaps planning that boarding house?" I grinned, as it now looked as though I was out of the 'dog house," at least for now.

Round two was to come later that night as we crawled into bed together, Montana still needed convincing, but before I began, I told her,

"I'm not like the sort of men you've had dealings with before Montana, I told you that you are the one, and I meant it. As for Klara, I really think she is a German aristocrat fallen on hard times, I'll admit that running a boarding house is a mighty step down for someone like her, but it's also a huge step up from whoring, she's stuck out here without any options, this is a chance to regain some semblance of dignity, I think you'll see her shine." Montana still had her doubts, but I didn't give her a chance to voice them.