Kismet or Happenstance Ch 05
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Posted: August 05, 2007 - 12:02:53 am
After our busy weekend, Belle and I took the Monday train from El Paso to Santa Fe. Mister Garnet, one of the conductors that roomed at Molly’s, set us up with nice seats in the coach next to the dining car. It took twelve hours to make the three hundred mile trip.
Once we were in Santa Fe, we got a very comfortable room at the Concordia Hotel for two nights. I signed the guest register as Mister and Missus T. R. McGuinn, El Paso, Texas. Belle held onto my arm as we stood at the hotel desk. She was the epitome of the proper, well groomed Victorian lady. Her eyes sparkled when she saw me only book one room and list us as husband and wife.
Once in our room, we each went to one of the floor’s bathrooms and freshened up for dinner. I mentioned to Belle that we could both use the same one and she seemed scandalized by the idea.
“When we are alone, Tyler, I am as ready for anything as you are. However, when we are in public we will act with the proper decorum,” she chided.
I gave her a look, shrugged and sighed. She was right, of course, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.
“I knew things would change as soon as we were married,” I quipped.
She stuck her tongue out at me and whacked me on the arm.
“I’ll show you change, later tonight, Tyler McGuinn! Right now we need to hurry. I’m famished.”
Belle was a very sophisticated young woman of her times, and much more adroit at handling the social graces of Victorian ‘polite’ society than I could ever hope to be. I was clueless when it came to the current social conventions. Uncle Ty was a man of these times, but he had preferred to spend his time with criminals and low-lifers. Needless to say, I watched Belle during dinner at the hotel’s hoity-toity restaurant. She was so comfortable with her surroundings that I had to ask her about it.
“This is how I was raised, darling. My family has money. My father owns a large section of the docks and warehouses on Mobile’s oceanfront. He is also a cotton merchant. My mother’s family owns what Daddy doesn’t.”
“Do you miss living like this, Belle? I mean even if I make some serious money, I still don’t think I’d be happy living like these people. It’s too constraining and dull for me.”
Belle patted my hand reassuringly.
“I have the money to live like this if I wanted, Ty, but I feel as you do. That is why I was working at a saloon. These people are satisfied just to exist. I want to wring every drop of living out of my life! That’s one more reason why we are so good together.”
She had a point. As I sat there looking at her, another question came to mind.
“Belle, was Wilson your maiden name?”
She shook her head negatively.
“My maiden name is Sikes. Wilson isn’t my married name, either. It’s just a name I picked out of the air.”
When she said that, I could feel the blood drain from my face and I was suddenly light headed. Belle noticed my stricken visage right away and grabbed my hand.
“Are you alright, darling? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
Belle couldn’t even guess how close to being right she was. I took a sip of water to compose myself before answering her.
“I knew a girl named Cora Leigh Sikes; I thought we were in love until she tried to kill me.”
Belle gave me a startled look.
“I have a niece name Cora Leigh, but she is only eight years old. Everyone says she looks just like me when I was that age.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her she also had a great grandniece by the same name that was as crazy as a bedbug, but I stifled that urge. This going back in time thing was becoming more and more complex. It was obvious that becoming involved with Cora Leigh’s great aunt was no more of a coincidence than meeting the Lopezes or finding the law books.
The Cora Leigh Sikes of the twentieth century had suffered from a form of psychosis cause by lead poisoning. Cora’s mother told me that she gnawed on everything when she was a toddler, and no one knew about the dangers of lead paint back then. Well I knew about it and I was way back when, so I thought I might have a chance of saving Cora Leigh’s future sanity. Come to think of it, there were a number of things I could do that could make the future world a safer and better place. I needed to think about that some.
After dinner, Belle and I walked around the square that surrounded the historic Palace of the Governors. I had visited the building in my other life five or six times. In 1977, it was a museum; in 1877, it was the seat of the territorial government. The Palace of the Governors was truly a historic building. Built in 1610, it served as the seat of government for New Mexico continuously for three hundred years under governors appointed by Spain, Mexico and the United States. Amazingly, the sun dried adobe brick walls were still in excellent condition, even in the twentieth century.
As I recalled, Lew Wallace was the territorial governor in the late 1870’s. Wallace spent his days ridding his territory of the bad elements and his nights writing the book ‘Ben-Hur’. I knew about Wallace, because I had researched gunfighters at the Palace of the Governors Museum and read about his dealings with Billy the Kid. At one time during the Lincoln County Wars, Billy the Kid was an informant for Wallace, and the governor granted the Kid a pardon. When Billy went back to robbing and murdering, Wallace rescinded the pardon.
As we walked around the square, I saw the United States Marshal’s office tucked into one of the back corners of the building. I pointed it out to Belle and asked if she wanted to be with me when I kept my appointment.
“Of course I do, silly. I want to be a part of everything in your life,” she replied.
Belle remained the perfect Victorian woman until I snicked the lock home on the door to our room later that night. From that minute forward, she was a sexual dervish as we tried to wear the hotel bed out in one night. While I had her on her hands and knees, I told her this was how I was going to take her while she was munching on Maria’s little black muff. Talking dirty really lit Belle’s fire. Even though she had her face in the pillow, her lusty squeal when she climaxed reverberated throughout the room and probably the entire hotel.
I taught Belle all about sixty-nine that night as well. She loved being on top of me over my face. She saw the benefits of the position relative to Maria right off the bat.
“This is how I want to be when you take me, sweetheart, while I’m riding Maria’s pretty face.”
That sounded like a plan to me.
Frocked out in all our best duds, Belle and I arrived at the Marshal’s office at ten the next morning. The U.S. Marshal for the New Mexico Territory and West Texas was the legendary Jeremiah Dwayne (J. D.) Cahill. As we sat in his waiting room while the Marshal dispensed with some court business, I wondered what Cahill would think about the way John Wayne portrayed him in a movie ninety years in the future. Because of that movie, I had the image of Cahill being a big, gruff, rough and tumble man.
My expectations were shattered when he finally walked into the room and called us into his office. Cahill was a medium sized man with city slicker manners and a disarmingly soft voice. Cahill was a protégé of Lew Wallace, having served on Wallace’s staff during the Civil War. When Wallace became governor, he brought Cahill to New Mexico with him. Cahill was a fearless lawman when he had to be, but his real forte was organization. The New Mexico district court was probably the best run in the country, thanks to him.
The meeting with Marshal Cahill went well, as the letter from Agent Gordon helped prove my sincerity. The marshal even took us to lunch at a restaurant near his office. He said it was to apologize for keeping us waiting, but I’d bet my last nickel he did it just to spend some more time in Belle’s company. I couldn’t fault him for that, because Belle was beautiful, vivacious and charming. I could have been a wanted fugitive and still gotten the deputyship because of her.
After lunch, Cahill walked us back to the Palace and ushered us straight into the District Judge’s Chambers. The judge was named Horace Gault. He was a suave, silver haired and handsome man. When Cahill introduced Belle, the judge bowed over her hand and said something in French about being enchanted. Belle answered him right back in the same language and before you could say spit, Cahill chimed in and the three of them were yammering away in damned French.
I stood by politely as they had their gabfest; I didn’t have to pretend that I didn’t understand what they were going on about. Of all the things I might ever do, learning French wasn’t one of them. My Abuela Isabel taught me from infancy that anything French was poison. She still held a grudge against the Frenchies because they invaded and subjugated Mexico in the early 1800s. I figured that Abuela Isabel was the next thing to being a saint, so if she didn’t like the French, then neither did I.
Finally Belle switched them back to English, and the Judge administered the oath of office to me. Belle made a production of pinning my new badge on my suit coat. Man oh man this Federal badge was way better than the one I was issued by El Paso County. It was a sterling silver two inch circle with a five pointed star in the center. Around the edge of the circle it was stamped in bold relief: U.S DEPUTY MARSHAL. Cahill said the badges were made at the new Denver Mint on the same presses that struck the one dollar silver coins.
I think the judge and marshal would have been pleased if we had stayed there all day, just so they could be near Belle, but we made our excuses and left after another ten minutes or so. Once we were out of the building, I took the badge off my coat and attached it to the little leather flip-open holder Joaquin had made for me. My deputy sheriff’s badge was already attached to one side of the holder. I could wear the holder hanging out of my coat or vest pocket with whichever badge I needed, just like Kojak. As soon as I thought that, I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to Belle. I just couldn’t resist.
“Who loves you, Baby?” I asked.
Belle gave me the ‘you are an idiot but I still love you’ look and shook her head.
Hortense
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