Incident at Pima MesaChapter 14
- 3 years ago
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"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. Willis. Please come in," she said, opening the door.
"We heard about your misfortune. Is your husband all right?"
"Yes," answered Miranda, "he will have to stay with the doctor a few days, but he will be fine."
"That's good to hear."
They walked into a small sitting room where Elijah Graves sat in a rocking chair. Miranda was shocked. The man in the chair was nearing seventy and not in the best of health. His hands, which rested on the chair arms, were palsied. His head and shoulders hung in a perpetual stoop. His gaze was downward and did not vary. He seemed unaware of their presence.
"Elijah..." her voice raised a bit, "Elijah darling, we have company."
His head slowly lifted to face them, but the eyes were dulled.
"This is Mrs. Willis. She and her husband were robbed and her husband was wounded. Mrs. Willis will be staying a few days with us."
He made a brief motion of acknowledgement with his hand.
"I... I very much appreciate your letting me stay until Tom is better. It's very kind of you," Miranda offered.
The wife motioned toward the door and they left quietly, Elijah returning his stare into space.
"This way, Mrs. Willis," said the young wife, moving to the stairs.
"Please, call me Miranda."
"All right, Miranda, if you'll call me Ellen," she answered, smiling shyly.
At the head off the stairs was a small bedroom. Ellen Graves opened the door and they entered.
"I'm sorry it isn't larger. It's where I sleep most of the time."
Oh, please, it's fine, but I don't want to take your room."
"No, no, it's all right. I will sleep with Elijah. I haven't done that in a while."
Ellen started to leave.
"Must you go?" asked Miranda, I'd like some company."
The young wife smiled slightly.
"That would be nice. Let me get Elijah to bed and I'll bring up some tea. We can talk then."
She left quietly.
Miranda washed and lay down on the bed, her mind racing. She had already determined that in the morning she would try to find employment at one of the stores in town, at least until Tom was on his feet again. There would be bills to pay and she would do what she could to help. This was one way, perhaps the only way, she could convince Tom of her sincerity and desire to make amends.
Eventually, fatigue overcame her and she drifted into sleep.
The knock at the door was soft, but it startled her. She sat up, disoriented and for a moment images of the events of that afternoon flashed through her mind. Again the soft knock. Gaining her composure, Miranda opened the door.
Ellen Graves stood with a tray of tea.
"Please come in. I must have fallen asleep."
"No wonder with what you're been through today."
The young wife set the tray down and poured the tea. They both sat on the edge of the bed.
"I can't thank you enough for giving me a place to stay. It's so very kind."
"To tell you the truth, I am glad to have some company. We seldom get out these days and..." her voice tailed off.
Miranda looked into the eyes of a woman aged beyond her years. A look of hopelessness drained what might have once been an attractive face.
"I know it's none of my business, but your husband is so..."
"So much older than I am?"
Her voice took on a tone of resignation.
"It was an arranged marriage. My mother died when I was a baby. My father became destitute and Elijah and his wife took me in. They gave me a place to live. After his wife died, he asked me to marry him. My father told me I owed it to Elijah and should be grateful to have a man to care for me. Father insisted. I really didn't have much choice. We were married eight years ago. I was sixteen."
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. 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...
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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