Incident at Pima MesaChapter 14
- 3 years ago
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"Mrs. Willis?"
Miranda looked up to see Dr. Welty standing in the doorway.
"Your husband is going to be fine. I got the bullet out. Actually, he's a very lucky man. Another inch or two and the bullet would have cut through an artery. He probably would have bled to death before you could get him here."
"May I see him now?" Miranda asked anxiously.
"Of course," said the doctor, motioning her in. "He's still pretty groggy and he needs rest, but you can talk with him for a few minutes."
Dr. Welty stayed outside as Miranda went to Tom's side.
"Tom, Honey, it's Miranda."
His eyes opened and as he recognized her, his eyes turned to steel.
"What are you doing here? I figured you would have taken off with your boyfriend."
"Don't Tom, please."
"What do you expect? Me fighting to protect you and you... the virgin... enjoying every minute of it!"
"Tom, I'm sorry. I... I don't know what came over me. Please, I'll do anything to make it up to you!"
"Oh, just like that! It's, I'm sorry Tom and all is supposed to be forgiven!"
"Please, Tom. I want to make things right between us again."
"You should have thought of that before... Ohhhhh!"
He grabbed his shoulder. Miranda looked up to see the doctor briskly enter and check the wound.
"Get her out of here!" shouted Tom in agony, "I don't want to see her again!"
"Perhaps it would be better if we gave him a chance to rest now."
"Yes... yes of course," she said, her eyes glazed, senses dulled by strain, fatigue and rejection.
The doctor patted her on the back gently.
"He's delirious with the pain. I wouldn't let anything he says in this condition worry me."
Miranda was in tears.
"But what shall we do? All our money is gone. We have nowhere to go, nowhere to stay."
"Look," said Welty, "your husband is going to have to stay here for a few days. I took the liberty of contacting Ellen Graves, Reverend Graves' wife, while you were talking with your husband. They live just down the street. I explained your situation and she agreed to let you stay there until your husband is up and around."
"Oh Dr. Welty," she brightened a bit, "that's so kind of you. But how are we even going to pay your bill?"
"Now don't worry. There's plenty of time for that later. Right now, let's get you taken care of for the night. Tomorrow is another day."
She looked in on Tom once more who was sleeping fitfully.
"Are you sure he'll be all right Doctor?"
"Yes, he'll be fine. He's got a nasty wound and it will take several days before he's up and around again, but there is no reason for undo concern."
"I don't know how to thank you."
"No thanks necessary. Now the Graves live on the other side of the street in the little gray house with the fence around the front yard. You can't miss it. It isn't far. They're expecting you. I'll have the livery take care of your horses and wagon."
Miranda got a few clothes from the wagon, stuffed them into a small bag and started walking.
Miranda turned to Vasquez suddenly, as if finally, once again, capable of rational thought, aware of his betrayal and fearful of Tom's reaction to her not-so-unwilling participation. "You're a vile and disgusting man!" she said, spitting out the words. Retrieving his gun, he stood, putting on his pants. Vasquez looked first to the woman and then to her husband. "That's not what you were saying only moments ago Senora. You are an apt pupil. You learn fast and well. She will make you a...
Miranda struggled to get her semi-conscious husband to his feet and into the wagon. She stemmed the tide of bleeding with a tablecloth from their belongings, jumped onto the seat and, whipping the horses unmercifully, headed for town as fast as the work team and old wagon could bear. Despite the makeshift wheel repair which she expected to let loose at any time, they rolled into the outskirts of town in a little over forty minutes. She asked a young girl for directions to the doctor's...
"Mrs. Graves?" The woman who answered the door was tiny, standing less than five feet tall. Her clothes were plain and although she wore no makeup, her features were pleasant. She was trim with green eyes and dark auburn hair which she wore long. She was younger than Miranda had imagined, not more than three or four years older than Miranda herself. Given a little attention, thought Miranda, she could be quite attractive. The reverend's wife smiled self consciously. "You must be Mrs....
In late afternoon of the next day, Miranda told Ellen she would love some company and asked if Ellen would come to her room after supper, Ellen was still shaken and embarrassed after last night and wasn't sure she could face Miranda even though she thought she had slipped away unseen when Miranda had come to the door. However, lacking any logical excuse and feeling a strange sense of excitement, she agreed to stop by as soon as she got Elijah to bed. Miranda answered the timid...
Miranda awoke and immediately looked to the floor. Ellen lay curled up asleep, thumb in mouth, two fingers of her other hand in her nest. As Miranda stirred slightly, the minister's wife also awoke. "Come here," commanded Miranda. Ellen obeyed silently. "Did you do last night as I told you?" inquired Miranda threateningly. "I... I..." Miranda grabbed the labial ring, pulling it down painfully and forcing Ellen closer. "Better tell me the truth! You know my demons are...
"Then we have a deal?" "Let me get this straight," said Bart Manning, the saloon owner who also ran the brothel upstairs, "you have your own girl - working out of Pastor Graves upstairs bedroom of all places - and you're willing to cut me in for half if I supply you with customers?" "Right," said Miranda assuredly. They sat at a back table in the saloon. "Why should I send you customers when I can get ninety percent of the take here? Because you said yourself you sometimes...
Within only a few days, Miranda's business was thriving. The first night, Ellen had "entertained" only four customers, but the word soon spread and now from sundown until the early morning hours, Ellen virtually never left the bed, as an endless parade of cowboys, vagrants, and, not a few, "respectable" businessmen partook of her pleasures. Even Ellen's cousin with whom she had gown up, had paid his money for a tumble with what was being billed as the tightest little piece in...
Tom was finally up and about, arm in a sling. He was still avoiding Miranda, his anger paling, but not yet to the point where he wished to confront her. The doctor had suggested a short walk and so he headed down the street, pausing in front of the saloon. He wasn't much of a drinker, however the piano music, which came wafting from inside, was good and he felt he needed something to brighten his spirits. Looking around briefly as he entered, he saw the usual assortment of card games and...
"Come in," said Manning, responding to the timid knock at his office door. "Well, look who's here. And what can I do for you little lady?" "I... I need a job. No one else in town will even speak to me, I have nowhere else to go." "Word on the street is, you're broke and pregnant," he said, eying the woman who had pleasured him several times since that initial evening. "I'll do ANYTHING!" Ellen sobbed, "just please don't turn me away. I slept in the livery stable last night....
"Come in," said Randy Barrett. Tom opened the door. He still could not believe he was here. "She left me," was all he could manage. Barrett offered him a seat and Tom eased himself onto the sofa, exhausted. "What you need is a good drink," said the rancher, moving to a small bar at one end of the room. "She ran off with Vasquez." "Vasquez? Why the little whore... oops, sorry." "It's all right. That's exactly what she is and I've been a fool to think she was anything...
It was near sundown when they rode into Vasquez's camp, she in the wagon, he on horseback. There were fifteen or twenty men milling about, along with about a third as many women. A huge pot suspended over a roaring fire contained a stew which was quickly rising to a boil. Three of the women greeted them as they dismounted. The women were actually only in their late twenties, but any observer would have guessed between forty and fifty. There were smiles on their faces, but each had that look...
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