The Legend of Perley Gates Read online

  “That’s a fact,” Perley said, answering Temple’s question. “I never traveled this road before, so I didn’t expect to see a tradin’ post between here and Cheyenne.”

  “That so?” Temple replied. “I built this place before the railroad got to Cheyenne. It wasn’t even called Cheyenne then—it was Crow Creek Crossin’, and to tell you the truth, I used to do a lot more business back then.”

  “I don’t suppose you sell anything for women, do ya?” Liz interrupted. “I’d sure like to get outta these men’s clothes.”

  “No, ma’am, I wouldn’t have much reason to carry stuff like dresses and such, if that’s what you’re talkin’ about. I’ve got some material, if you wanna sew yourself a dress. That’s what my wife does.”

  “I ain’t much for sewin’,” Liz said. “How ’bout some sugar, and a coffee cup?”

  “And we need some more coffee,” Stella piped up. “We’ve been usin’ a helluva lot of that.”

  “I can fix you up with those things,” Temple said. Based on the brash attitude of the two women, he was coming to a quick conclusion that they might be “working ladies.” Addressing Perley again, he commented, “You’re gonna find a lot of competition when you get to Cheyenne, but from what I hear, they can always use more.”

  His remark puzzled Perley, so he asked, “Competition? Competition for what?”

  “You know, for you and your ladies,” Temple said with a wink. “They’re whores, ain’t they?”

  Perley suddenly realized what he meant, and he felt the blush that burned his cheeks. “No,” he blurted. “Well, yes, they are, but I ain’t got nothin’ to do with that. I’m just takin’ ’em to Cheyenne because they ran into a little trouble.”

  Thoroughly enjoying Perley’s blushing, and far past giving a damn what Lou Temple thought of her or her occupation, Liz made a proposition to Temple. “That’s right. Ol’ Perley, here, ain’t got nothin’ to do with our business. He just happened to come along when we needed help and agreed to take us to Cheyenne. Me and Stella don’t need nobody to take care of our business. That bein’ said, those supplies we need . . . maybe we could work out a little trade for what we want. Whaddaya say, Lou?”

  Astonished by her boldness, Temple could say nothing for a long moment, but the little man’s mind was working fast, thinking this might be an opportunity worth taking. To Liz’s surprise, he answered, “Maybe we can.”

  He took a quick look over his shoulder, just in case his wife may have come in from the kitchen. Then he motioned for Liz to walk over to the far end of the counter, where he made his own proposition in hushed conversation. “I’ve got three grown sons that ain’t never had any experience with a woman, and I’m afraid if they don’t find out what to do with one pretty soon, they’re liable to dry up and die before their time.”

  “Well, now, you’re right about that, all right,” Liz agreed in her most professional manner. “I’ve seen it happen. And this is your lucky day, because there ain’t nobody with more experience in startin’ young men on the right path to full manhood than me and Stella.”

  “It’s gonna depend on the price,” Temple said. “I figure I oughta get a discount, seein’ as how I’m bringin’ three customers to the party.”

  Their negotiations were interrupted for a few moments when a young man came through the door.

  “You want Elam to shoe that mare tonight, Pa? He told me to ask you. I think he wants to do it in the mornin’.” While he waited for his father to answer, he gaped openly at the two women as if never having seen one before.

  “You tell him he can wait till tomorrow,” Temple said, and the young man turned and went back out the door. Temple winked at Liz when he had gone. “He might need his strength tonight.”

  “Is that one of your sons, the ones that need an education?”

  “Yep,” Temple replied. “That’s Jonah, the middle boy.”

  “You mighta just got yourself a reduction in the price,” Liz said with new enthusiasm for the task at hand. “Do your other two sons look like Jonah?”

  “Pretty much, I reckon. They favor their mother more’n they do me,” he said.

  “Well, all I can say is, your wife must be a fine-lookin’ woman,” Liz replied.

  “She was in her day,” Temple said. “So, tell me what you’re needin’ to buy and we’ll see if we can strike a deal.”

  Liz called off a list of the things they were short of, plus another coffee cup as well as a coffeepot she saw on a shelf behind the counter. It was larger than Perley’s small pot and would save a lot of time in the mornings. When she had finished, Temple thought about it for a few moments, realizing he was going to be giving away more than he cared to.

  “I don’t know,” he finally said. “How ’bout if I give you everything you wanted but the coffeepot? And you give me three dollars for that pot?”

  “Done,” she said and extended her hand.

  He shook it, and there was nothing left but to make the arrangements for his sons’ classroom.

  “I kinda get the idea that you don’t want your wife to know what’s goin’ on, so where are we gonna do this?” Liz asked. “We’re fixin’ to camp here tonight, ain’t we, Perley?”

  She looked at Perley, who had been listening to the negotiations dumbfounded, barely able to believe what he was hearing. Naturally shy around women to begin with, he was astonished by the man’s interest in his sons’ introduction to women. If anything, it would severely damage their attitude toward any young women they might happen to meet in the future.

  When he seemed to be stuck in a trance, Liz prodded him. “Ain’t we, Perley?”

  “Yeah,” Perley finally answered. “We’ll make camp up the creek a ways, if that’s all right with you, Mr. Temple. That’s as far as I wanna push the horses today.”

  Still somewhat astounded by the negotiations he had just witnessed, Perley’s thoughts returned to the realization that he might still have to deal with three angry Indians.

  “There’s something else I need to let you know,” he said and went on to tell Temple about the encounter with Gray Wolf and his friends.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if them three weren’t the ones snoopin’ around here about a week ago,” Temple said. “My son Elam spotted ’em sneakin’ up close to the corral, but they skee-daddled quick enough when him and his brothers got their rifles after ’em.” He paused then to chuckle. “So, you stole them three horses from the Injuns while they was tryin’ to steal yours, huh? I reckon that set ’em off, all right. What’s your name, son? Did she call you Pearly?”

  “Yes, sir,” he said. “Perley. Perley Gates.”

  “Say what?” Temple asked, thinking he had heard wrong.

  “Perley Gates,” he repeated. “Like the gates up in Heaven, only it ain’t spelled the same.”

  Temple paused for a moment, so Liz interrupted. “So, where are we goin’ to entertain your sons?”

  Brought back from the curiosity over Perley’s name, Temple answered. “I figure in the barn’s the best place. I’ll have the boys throw down some fresh hay—make you a nice bed.” That’s where we breed the hogs, he thought but resisted saying it aloud.

  “Sounds like a good place to me,” Stella commented, content up to that point to let Liz handle the bargaining but wanting to make one stipulation. “You understand this is for just one ride apiece for each one of your sons,” she emphasized.

  “Right,” Temple agreed. “One ride oughta be enough to give ’em an idea—make ’em think about findin’ a wife, startin’ a family—so there’s somebody else around here to do the work. Me and Ma ain’t gettin’ no younger.”

  “Well, as soon as we load up those supplies, we can go set up our camp,” Liz said. “Then give us a little time to eat supper and we’ll set up in the barn.”

  “I don’t reckon there’s any chance you’d load up these goods and take off on me,” Temple said.

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” Liz said. “If
your other two boys look as handsome as Jonah, I wouldn’t miss it.”

  She might have said more, but Temple’s wife walked in from the kitchen at that moment. A tiny, pleasant-looking woman, her gray hair pulled back in a neat bun, Joanna Temple met them with a warm smile.

  “I thought I heard Lou talking to someone out here,” she said. “My hearing’s not as good as it used to be, so I wasn’t sure.”

  “This here’s Perley Gates and his two ladies, Ma,” Temple said. “They’re on their way to Cheyenne.”

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Perley quickly replied when she seemed puzzled by her husband’s introduction. “They’re not my ladies—they are Liz MacDonald and Stella Pender, and they ran into some hard luck, so I’m escortin’ ’em to Cheyenne to live with a friend of theirs.”

  “Oh,” she replied, still somewhat confused by Liz’s trousers and jacket. “Well, I hope my husband can take care of your needs.”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am,” Liz responded. “He’s takin’ good care of us.”

  “I wish you a safe journey for the rest of your trip to Cheyenne,” Joanna said and promptly returned to her kitchen, making a mental note to inform her innocent-minded husband that the two women looked like prostitutes to her.

  * * *

  Still reeling mentally after the contract he had just witnessed, Perley led his party upstream a couple dozen yards to a place that looked to be satisfactory for their camp. He wanted to stay close to the trading post, in the event the three Indians were still on his tail, so he went only far enough to ensure he was upstream from the barn.

  Having caught a glimpse of the older son, Elam, coming out of the barn, the two women were chattering away in anticipation of the coming evening. Even though Perley felt it not the best way for a young man to be introduced to the opposite sex, he kept his opinions to himself. It was a business deal between Temple and the women.

  It occurred to him then that Elam looked to be about the same age as he, and like Elam, he had not as yet crossed that mysterious threshold himself. Shy as he was around women, he sometimes wondered if he ever would. But when I do, he promised himself, it won’t be with a three-dollar whore in a barn.

  While he took care of the horses, Liz and Stella prepared supper, eager to try out their new coffeepot. Perley figured the women must have accumulated some cash in Ogallala, since there was no hesitation on Liz’s part to fetch the three dollars from a purse inside her jacket.

  As no one felt the need to talk quietly, Perley was subject to overhearing some rather lewd comments regarding the coming evening. Before long, Liz couldn’t help but notice that he appeared to be in a constant blush, and while eating the bacon and biscuits they had cooked, he seemed to be sitting farther away than he normally did. Finally, she commented.

  “You know what? I may be wrong, but damned if I don’t think ol’ Perley ain’t ever took a ride himself, just like the Temple boys. What about it, Perley? You think you might oughta get in line down at the barn tonight, too?”

  Perley almost choked on a large piece of bacon he was in the process of swallowing. He had a coughing fit for a few seconds before recovering.

  “I don’t reckon so,” he finally managed. “I think I’d best stay here and keep my eye on the horses. We might have visitors tonight.” He could have put their horses in the corral with Temple’s but decided he’d rather have them near him. And they could graze by the creek and drink freshwater.

  Liz chuckled, amused by his reaction. “I know me and Stella will have visitors tonight,” she said, “so I reckon we’d best clean up the pan and the coffeepot and get along to the barn.”

  “I’ll clean up here,” Perley insisted. “Why don’t you and Stella just stay there and sleep in the barn when you’re through? It’ll be a better bed than sleepin’ here on the ground. I figure we’ve got another day and a half from here to Cheyenne, so we’ll get started again in the mornin’.”

  “That sounds like a good idea to me,” he heard Stella say to Liz as they walked away. “I’d give a lot for my hairbrush. I hope Kenny is enjoyin’ usin’ it.”

  “Yeah, too bad Temple didn’t have one to sell,” Liz replied. “I don’t reckon these boys tonight are gonna spend much time lookin’ at our hair, anyway.” They both laughed then.

  Perley was happy to have them gone for the night. He was uncomfortable with the lewd jokes. That was the kind of language a man heard from women in a saloon, or among men on a cattle drive. It just didn’t seem right, out on the prairie, for women to talk like rough cowhands. I reckon I’m just too soft in the head, he confessed to himself.

  He put it out of his mind and went to work building himself a low firing position to sleep behind in case the three Indians showed up that night. He found a couple of logs that served his purpose quite well, so he dragged them over and fit them one on top of the other. By the time darkness descended upon the creek, he felt he was ready for any late-night visitors.

  He was not long in his blanket when he realized he should not have made his camp so close to the barn, for he could soon hear sounds coming from there. The voices became louder as the evening progressed and were nearly all those of the excited young men. What the hell, he decided, I need to stay alert anyway.

  * * *

  “I don’t see my pony in that corral by the barn,” Cripple Horse whispered. “I don’t see yours or Walking Man’s, either. They are not here.”

  “How can they not be here?” Gray Wolf growled. “We saw their tracks where they left the road and came here.” Cross and weary after their long trek on foot, he was in no mood for another frustrating defeat.

  “Maybe they have left already,” Walking Man suggested, “and might be camped somewhere farther along the road.”

  “We need horses,” Gray Wolf said, looking at the horses moving about in the corral, already aware of the Indians’ presence. “We can slip in and open the corral and steal these.”

  “You forget when we tried to steal horses here before,” Cripple Horse reminded him. “Too many guns—we were lucky to get away alive.”

  “It was almost daylight then,” Gray Wolf said. “They were lucky to have seen us. Now it is dark. They will be in their beds.”

  He rose from his kneeling position and moved in closer to the barn. Cripple Horse and Walking Man had no choice other than to follow him. As soon as they moved up beside him, he motioned for them to listen. In a moment, they understood why, for they could hear loud voices, men’s voices, whooping and hollering.

  “This is not good,” Walking Man whispered. “It sounds like a war dance.”

  “I think you are right,” Cripple Horse agreed. “I think this is a very bad time to steal their horses. They have more men with guns than they did before. We should leave this place before they come out of the barn.”

  Gray Wolf scowled and bit his lip in angry frustration, almost to the point of rushing in to open the corral in spite of what they perceived to be a war party inside the barn.

  Such thoughts were abandoned in the next few seconds when they heard a low, threatening growl emanating from a stand of bushes a few yards away. A large dog, as black as night, pushed its head through the branches, its teeth bared, causing the warriors to freeze for a long moment. All three had but one thought, so as one, they slowly withdrew. It was enough to set the dog to barking, and the canine was joined almost immediately by two more dogs. There were no longer any decisions to be made—the three warriors turned and ran for their lives, with the three dogs in hot, noisy pursuit.

  Up through the cottonwood trees that lined the creek the warriors ran, but the dogs were right behind them. Already weary from the journey that had brought them to Lou Temple’s trading post, they began to falter, until Gray Wolf, in a fit of rage, stopped, turned, and notched an arrow on his bowstring. Waiting until the lead dog was almost upon him, he released his arrow and quickly notched another.

  His first arrow struck the large black dog in the chest, and it crashed to the gro
und almost at his feet. His second arrow struck a brown-and-white hound just in front of its rear leg, and the wounded dog howled out in pain and limped away. That was enough to stop the third dog. It turned and retreated to the barn.

  Releasing his anger and frustration, Gray Wolf threw his head back and yelled out his victorious coup to the heavens. A dozen yards ahead of him, Cripple Horse and Walking Man came to a sudden stop, both shocked to hear Gray Wolf’s war cry.

  “He has lost his mind!” Walking Man gasped, struggling to get his breath. “They know we are here now! They will all come down on us.”

  In complete agreement, Cripple Horse called out, “Gray Wolf, come! We must get away from here!”

  “I must get my arrow out of the dog,” Gray Wolf called back.

  “Leave the arrow!” Cripple Horse yelled in anger and turned to run again. “He has gone crazy,” he panted to Walking Man.

  Back in the barn, the “passage to manhood class” was abruptly halted, with only Elam and Jonah having crossed over the bridge. Fearing an Indian attack, the boys grabbed their rifles and spilled out of the barn. At the same time, their father ran out the kitchen door. All were primed to defend their home. On the other side of the barn, Perley leaped up over his log breastworks and ran to help the others.

  “They musta been after the horses again!” Lou Temple shouted.

  “Look!” Jonah said, and pointed to the hound, limping back to the barn with Gray Wolf’s arrow protruding from his rear leg. “They shot Beau!”

  “There’s Belle!” Lou exclaimed. “Where’s Bear?”

  With a pretty good idea who the raiders were, Perley felt an obligation to go after the Indians. “I think they musta run off up that way,” he said, pointing in the direction the dogs had come from. “I’ll go after ’em. Maybe you’d better stay here to make sure the women are all right.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Jonah volunteered. “Elam and Josh can stay with Pa.”