will my customers think, seeing a Navajo girl running around like she owns the place? And dressing, pretty as you please, in clean calico like she’s white.”
“Would you be happier if she was dressed in buckskin and leggings?”
“Don’t get smart with me, Marshal.”
“Mrs. Clay, that girl is under official protection. She’s a witness to her father’s death.” That wasn’t true, but I needed an edge against this unwelcome woman. “The men who killed her father might come after her again.”
“They already tried once, Mrs. Clay,” Jake said.
“More the reason she needs to be out of my hotel, Mr. Strop. I’m sorry about what happened to her father, but I won’t risk losing clientele over a breed who doesn’t know her place.”
I’d had enough. With everything else happening I didn’t need this, too.
“Don’t buck me, Alma. I haven’t been in Haxan long, but I expect you already heard about my reputation. You know the kind of man I am.”
I knew it was a mistake the moment I said it. She would take it as an article of war, and nothing else. I couldn’t help myself. She was nettle, pure and through.
I hadn’t liked what she called Magra.
Alma Jean’s tight mouth frowned in a sour moue of distaste. “I’m not skeered of you, Marshal. I’m a woman, not a man. You can’t push me around like the drunken cowhands who blow through town.”
Her smirk deepened. “My brother-in-law
and
my uncle both live in Washington. I have considerable influence with the federal government, never you mind.”
“Maybe you can find out why the War Department hasn’t paid me my back wages.”
“All I have to do is telegraph them and you and that Indian girl will be out on tomorrow’s train.”
“Until that happens, I’m still Marshal of this town, this county, and the territory of New Mexico. So, Alma Jean Clay, if you will fetch Miss Magra Snowberry so I, and my deputy, may dine with her, I’d appreciate it.”
“Are you asking me?”
“No, that’s more along the lines of an order.” I was going to show her I could push, too.
“You would order me in my own hotel, Marshal?”
“Just as pretty as you please.”
She rocked back on her heels. “You’re going to get yours one day, Marshal Marwood. Never you mind. You’re going to get what’s coming to you. I only hope I’m there to witness it.”
She spun and stalked stiff-legged from the lobby.
Jake watched her go with a low whistle. “My stars, that’s the most unpleasant woman I’ve ever seen. I’m afraid you’ve met your match, Mr. Marwood. She won’t budge an inch.”
“Alma Jean obviously feels she has the reins against me with Hew away in Las Cruces. Dammit, I was afraid this might happen.”
“I don’t know why she has it in for Miss Magra.”
“Don’t you, Jake?”
He mulled it over. “You mean, maybe because Miss Magra is kindly pretty? Compared to Alma Jean, so to speak. But Miss Magra would never set herself up against Alma Jean that way.”
I shrugged my own ignorance. “I don’t know. People have all kinds of stupid reasons they dislike one another.” I was thinking about Nichols and Danby.
Jake waggled his head. “Seems an awful thin reach to hate someone.”
“Hate doesn’t need a reason, Jake. It might look that way to you because of where you’re from and how you were raised.”
I had been lots of places. So many they were jumbled in my mind like lathes of silver. It was hard not to think of them sometimes. What little I could remember. But it was not remembering, knowing there was more to my past than I could ever recall, that nagged the most.
“Mr. Marwood, I’m from Texas. Not much there but starved cattle and chiggers.” He blew a few sneezing laughs through his nose. “They say Texas is hard on women and dogs. I can promise it ain’t no easier for men and cattle.”
He continued to laugh at his own joke, pulling his sparse chin whiskers between thumb and forefinger. “No, sir,
“Would you be happier if she was dressed in buckskin and leggings?”
“Don’t get smart with me, Marshal.”
“Mrs. Clay, that girl is under official protection. She’s a witness to her father’s death.” That wasn’t true, but I needed an edge against this unwelcome woman. “The men who killed her father might come after her again.”
“They already tried once, Mrs. Clay,” Jake said.
“More the reason she needs to be out of my hotel, Mr. Strop. I’m sorry about what happened to her father, but I won’t risk losing clientele over a breed who doesn’t know her place.”
I’d had enough. With everything else happening I didn’t need this, too.
“Don’t buck me, Alma. I haven’t been in Haxan long, but I expect you already heard about my reputation. You know the kind of man I am.”
I knew it was a mistake the moment I said it. She would take it as an article of war, and nothing else. I couldn’t help myself. She was nettle, pure and through.
I hadn’t liked what she called Magra.
Alma Jean’s tight mouth frowned in a sour moue of distaste. “I’m not skeered of you, Marshal. I’m a woman, not a man. You can’t push me around like the drunken cowhands who blow through town.”
Her smirk deepened. “My brother-in-law
and
my uncle both live in Washington. I have considerable influence with the federal government, never you mind.”
“Maybe you can find out why the War Department hasn’t paid me my back wages.”
“All I have to do is telegraph them and you and that Indian girl will be out on tomorrow’s train.”
“Until that happens, I’m still Marshal of this town, this county, and the territory of New Mexico. So, Alma Jean Clay, if you will fetch Miss Magra Snowberry so I, and my deputy, may dine with her, I’d appreciate it.”
“Are you asking me?”
“No, that’s more along the lines of an order.” I was going to show her I could push, too.
“You would order me in my own hotel, Marshal?”
“Just as pretty as you please.”
She rocked back on her heels. “You’re going to get yours one day, Marshal Marwood. Never you mind. You’re going to get what’s coming to you. I only hope I’m there to witness it.”
She spun and stalked stiff-legged from the lobby.
Jake watched her go with a low whistle. “My stars, that’s the most unpleasant woman I’ve ever seen. I’m afraid you’ve met your match, Mr. Marwood. She won’t budge an inch.”
“Alma Jean obviously feels she has the reins against me with Hew away in Las Cruces. Dammit, I was afraid this might happen.”
“I don’t know why she has it in for Miss Magra.”
“Don’t you, Jake?”
He mulled it over. “You mean, maybe because Miss Magra is kindly pretty? Compared to Alma Jean, so to speak. But Miss Magra would never set herself up against Alma Jean that way.”
I shrugged my own ignorance. “I don’t know. People have all kinds of stupid reasons they dislike one another.” I was thinking about Nichols and Danby.
Jake waggled his head. “Seems an awful thin reach to hate someone.”
“Hate doesn’t need a reason, Jake. It might look that way to you because of where you’re from and how you were raised.”
I had been lots of places. So many they were jumbled in my mind like lathes of silver. It was hard not to think of them sometimes. What little I could remember. But it was not remembering, knowing there was more to my past than I could ever recall, that nagged the most.
“Mr. Marwood, I’m from Texas. Not much there but starved cattle and chiggers.” He blew a few sneezing laughs through his nose. “They say Texas is hard on women and dogs. I can promise it ain’t no easier for men and cattle.”
He continued to laugh at his own joke, pulling his sparse chin whiskers between thumb and forefinger. “No, sir,
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