Buffalo Girls by Larry McMurtry

begin to drift down in the late morning, to drink coffee and experiment with one another’s hair.
    In Teat’s tribe, only warriors had taken as much trouble with their hair as Trix and Skeedle and Ginny. They were always examining Miss Dora’s papers and magazines, looking for pictures that might suggest interesting new ways to fix their hair.Teat, who was busy at that hour emptying cuspidors and sweeping out debris, was often required to give his opinion on a particular experiment. Once he had been laughed out of the house for innocently suggesting that bear grease might improve the look of their hair. The women had laughed so hard that his feelings had been a little hurt. What was wrong with bear grease? In his tribe everyone had known that it was good for your hair—but the women in the Hotel Hope saw matters differently.
    Trix knew Teat was in love with her; it was good news, as far as she was concerned. He was such a nice-looking boy, and so well mannered, that it would be a feather in any woman’s cap to have him in love with her. “Teat’s my real sweetheart,” she was fond of saying, even in company—and in a way, she meant it.
    The first time Dora heard her say it she immediately asked Trix to come to her room for a little chat. Trix was a child of the California gold fields; she had grown up in San Francisco, where attitudes about romance were somewhat more advanced than they were in Miles City. Dora had never been to San Francisco, but she assumed that such a great city would breed more advanced attitudes than one could expect to find in a frontier town on the plains.
    â€œI wouldn’t be calling Teat your sweetheart in front of the customers,” Dora cautioned.
    â€œWell, he is, why can’t I say it?” Trix said, rather hotly—Trix was young and defiant. To Dora she looked Italian.
    â€œIt might get him hurt, that’s why,” Dora said. “A good many of the customers want to think you’re
their
sweetheart. That’s why they come—to have a sweetheart for a few minutes.”
    â€œI guess I can pick my own sweetheart,” Trix complained, still hot. “My customers just come to slobber and squirt off. They’re ugly. Who wants an ugly sweetheart?”
    â€œNobody, but plenty of people have one,” Dora said. “Be in love with Teat—I don’t care. Just don’t mention it in front of customers. They don’t like Indians in this town, and plenty of hardmen show up here. If one of the hard ones decided he was in love with you, and then got jealous of Teat, what do you think would happen?”
    â€œI don’t know what would happen,” Trix said, defiance replaced by a look of uneasiness. Her black eyes snapped when she was angry, but they weren’t snapping now.
    â€œWhat?” she asked timidly.
    â€œThey’d probably just shoot Teat down,” Dora said. “Or else make up a party of drunks and take him out and hang him.”
    Trix left in tears at the thought that such a fate might befall Teat. Dora mentioned the matter to Calamity one morning, hoping to get her interested in something. Calamity was still low. She spent her days in bed, staring out the window at the snowy plains. Dora had seen her low before, but never for so long. Nothing interested her, nothing pleased her.
    â€œYou think I ought to send Teat away before something bad happens?” Dora asked.
    â€œNo. If they get after him just send him up here,” Calamity said. “I’ll shoot it out with ’em. I’d just as soon go out in a gunfight as to just get old and die.”
    â€œDon’t you vex me—you will if you talk about dying,” Dora said. “Here you’ve got a clean room to rest in, and Billy Cody sent you candy. Don’t be talking about gunfights.”
    In fact, Billy had been the soul of courtesy. He had sent Calamity candy three times, visited her often, and