Chapter 8

 

Jon gently tapped the top of the gold bell once again.  A soft voice came out of the living quarters behind the front desk. “Just a moment. I’ll be right there.”

Jon could hear the clang of dishes and a cabinet door closing as he stood waiting patiently. He soon heard light footsteps and the swish of a gown across the floor. The oak door swung slowly open. A smiling Miss Callahan stepped out to greet him.

“Sorry, Mr. Stoudenmire, I was cleaning up a little.  I didn’t know you were out here.” Maggie was blushing slightly.

“No problem at all, Miss—”

The pretty owner interrupted. “Oh! Maggie, please—everyone calls me Maggie.”

“No problem, Maggie. I just needed to talk with you for a moment.”

“Certainly. Go ahead.”

“Somethin’s come up, and I’m going to be sticking around for a while.  Any chance I can rent my room a little longer?”

The unexpected request brought a smile to Maggie’s face. “Why of course, Mr.—”

Jon quickly raised his eyebrows.

“Why of course, Jon. You can have the room for as long as necessary,” Maggie said, the corner of her mouth curling up flirtatiously. “Our weekly rate is fifteen dollars, to be paid in advance. You already gave me five dollars for the first two nights, so you just owe me ten more to complete the week. We can continue on this basis for as long as you like.”

“Well thank ya Maggie, I’m lookin’ forward to it.”

Maggie continued. “I saw you with Cliff Stone today. An old friend?”

Surprised by the question, Jon paused. “Cliff’s my cousin. We grew up together back in Indiana,” he said as he pulled two gold pieces from his pocket.

“Cousin, you say. How nice. I think a lot of Cliff. He’s a good friend.”

Eyebrows raised, Jon glanced up at the savvy Miss Callahan. “Just a friend, huh?”

“Yes, that’s all, just friends.”

Jon placed the coins in Maggie’s open hand. She squeezed his hand gently as she accepted the coins, never losing eye contact with the surprised gunman. “Thank you, Jon,” she said softly.

The unexpected squeeze startled Jon. He hesitated briefly.  “I best be going,” he said nervously. He smiled and backed awkwardly out of the front door.

“Where the hell did that come from?”  Jon mumbled as he hurried down the dusty street to the Crown Restaurant.

After a short walk, Jon arrived at the restaurant, stepped inside, took off his brown felt hat and looked around.  It was a fine restaurant with dark walnut trim around the doors and windows; cut-glass tabletops adorned with fine china filled the room. A lovely bouquet of fresh flowers sat atop each table.  Cliff was waving at him from a table in the corner of the room.  Jon hurried across the soft, red carpeting to his friend.

“Howdy, Cliff. Been here long?”

“Nope. Just got here.”

“Nice place. I’m impressed.” Jon dropped his hat on the table and sat down next to the wall.

“It just opened a few months ago, and they got the best darn food in town. Roast duck and scalloped corn is the special tonight with fresh-baked apple pie for desert.”

“Sounds good, Cliff. Dinner’s on me, and don’t argue!”

“You got a way with words, sweet talker.”

A dark-skinned waitress hurried over and carefully turned over the delicate cups. Smiling warmly, she filled them with steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you, Anita,” said Cliff politely. “We’ll have two specials please!  And apple pie after dinner.”

“Salad?” Anita asked.

Both men nodded.

“I bring you salad before dinner.” She hurried off.

“Looks like things are goin’ pretty good around here.  Sure aren’t any poor folk in here.”

“Yeah, for the time being—as long as the folks are allowed to work their claims in peace.  On the other hand, if Stanton gets control of all the mines, this town will dry up.  A few people might stick around to work in nearby vineyards, but most of ’em would hightail it outta here.  Things will be much different. He’ll hire some Mexicans from nearby villages to work the claims, and they won’t stick around town much. They’ll just come in for supplies and then go back to their villages.”

“What about his brother Lou? He’d be hurt also?”

“If George can control the gold around here, he will become a very wealthy man.  Then he’ll become a big shot in state politics.  He’s a very ambitious man, and I don’t think he’ll let anything stand in his way, not even his own flesh and blood.” Cliff frowned.

“Where’s this Stanton live?”

“He took over an abandoned Spanish Mission just outside of town, toward Vinegar Bend.  He fixed it all up. It’s a beautiful place, protected by a large adobe wall. The nuns used the wall to keep the kids in when it was a mission. Stanton added a locked metal gate and a few turrets on the corners of the wall to keep people out.”

“Does he have a family?”

“Nope, he’s never been married.  He likes to play the field.  A lot of women are impressed with his money.  I guess he and Maggie have been seein’ each other lately, and it looks like it might be getting serious.”

“Well, at least he’s got good taste.  That Maggie’s quite a girl.”

Cliff shook his head. “I can’t get a read on Maggie. Like I told ya, I’ve been out with her a couple of times.  She’s nice enough, but kind of hard to figure.  I’m not sure what Maggie’s after.”         

“Is she from around here?” Jon asked.

“Nope. She came here from Los Angeles about four years ago with her sister.  They opened a nice women’s clothing store down the street, but it never really got off the ground.  I guess not enough miners wanted dresses,” Cliff chuckled.  “Her sister got fed up with the business and decided to go back to Los Angeles.  Maggie sold the dress shop for about fifty cents on the dollar and bought the boardinghouse a couple of years ago.  It’s doing real well. She runs a nice business.”

“Hmmm…a big city girl,” Jon replied.

“Yeah, I guess so. Why all the interest in Maggie? You aren’t gettin’ any ideas, are you?”  Cliff’s eyebrows raised a little; he looked over at his nervous cousin.

“Oh no, just curious—that’s all.”

Cliff watched as the waitress carefully set the salads and dressing on the table. “Thank you, Anita.” He said.

“Maggie best be careful with Stanton,” Cliff remarked. “She’s playin’ with fire. He’ll use her up and spit her out.”

“I barely know the woman, but something tells me that she can take care of herself all right.  Just a hunch or something.” Jon grinned.

“I dunno, Jon. Stanton can be a real charmer if he wants to.” Cliff set the cloth napkin on his lap. “Let’s eat.”

 

- - - - -

 

The fork clanged as Jon dropped it on the empty dessert dish, exclaiming, “Best darn apple pie I’ve had in a long time.”  Jon rubbed his full stomach, reached into his inside vest pocket and pulled out a cigar.  He bit off the end and spit it into the spittoon next to the table. He sighed contentedly as he lit up.

“Smoke?” he asked as he pointed the cigar toward Cliff.

“No, thanks.”

“You never told me, Cliff. How’s your stake doin’?”

“Fair to middlin’,” Cliff replied.  “I have some good days and some bad days.  I pulled three hundred dollars worth outta there one day last week. Biggest day I’ve had so far. But my average day is about twenty dollars a day.”

“That explains the visit from Barton.”

Cliff grimaced. “I think you’re right. Several of the guys have been doin’ okay in my area. Stanton’s had his eye on our hill for quite a while.”

“Kinda like a vulture soaring around waitin’ for the kill,” Jon snarled.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Cliff glanced over at the front door and murmured, “Look who’s here.”

Jon glanced toward the door as Sheriff Cook and one of his deputies were just coming in the Crown; they were talking and laughing as they found a table and sat down.  When the lawman looked over and saw Jon and Cliff, the smile dropped off his face. Jon and Cliff nodded at the surprised sheriff.

The men were interrupted by Anita’s voice. “Anything else, gentlemen?”

“Naw, that’ll be all,” Jon said as she handed him the check.

“Thank you and pleeze come back.”

“Thank you kindly, Anita. That was a wonderful dinner.” Jon tossed a ten dollar gold piece on the table. “Keep the change,” he said.

“Sí, señor, thank you very much!”

Jon led the way to the door, purposely walking past Cook’s table.  Jon smiled at the surly sheriff.

“Evenin’, Sheriff. Good to see you again.” Jon reached forward for a shake.

Sheriff Cook looked annoyed. He feigned a smile and extended his hand. “Hello, Jon,” he said. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“You told me to stick around for a couple of days, so I may as well enjoy your little town while I’m here.  No sense sittin’ alone in my room.”

The friendly bantering by Jon annoyed the sheriff. He looked hard at Jon and replied, “If you don’t mind, my deputy and I got some business to discuss.”

“No problem, Sheriff. You boys have a nice evening. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” Jon smiled as he and Cliff headed for the door.  Cook quickly turned away and continued his conversation with his deputy, obviously irritated by the exchange with Jon.

“He needs to lighten up a little,” Jon said as he and Cliff stepped out on the street.

“He’s used to intimidating everyone, and you had him back on his heels, Jon.  He’s not used to that.”

“I guess not,” Jon laughed. “Tell me, what’s the best way out to the mines?”

“Just past the livery stable there are two trails—one goes north and one goes west.  Take the west trail and follow it all the way out to the mines. The miners got it pretty rutted out, so take it easy tomorrow.”

“Sure will, Cliff. How about a little faro?”

“Naw, I got a lot to do out at the camp before it gets dark. I best be on my way.” Cliff untied his black mare. “I have to go to the assayer’s office tomorrow.  If you’re back in time, I’ll meet you for lunch at the Crown around noon.”

“Sounds good.” Jon stood and watched Cliff ride off.  As he turned and walked slowly toward the saloon, he thought about his exchange with Cook at the Crown.  The man’s got an attitude, he thought as he pushed through the swinging doors and stepped into the smoky saloon for a night of gambling.