“That’s the way I look at it. Like I said, we’re seeing good results, and there are just way too many bawdyhouses, saloons, gambling halls, and such for a handful of deputy marshals to see to. There are thousands of people in Cheyenne, with more coming in every day. The city marshal figures it’s something like a thousand men to every deputy. By spring we’ll see the numbers cut at least in half, if not by two-thirds, but that doesn’t help us now.”
“Why will the population drop so much? I thought this was a division headquarters for the Union Pacific?”
“That’s always the way it is at the end of the line. When the railroad moves west and sets up another end-of-the-tracks town, all the supplies will go there, and the vice will follow. Most of the men who aren’t dealing drinks or cards are working for the railroad, and most of the women are working for themselves. That’s why I stressed the importance of wanting married men with families.”
“Yeah, I could tell by what you said that single men weren’t exactly wanted.”
“Now, that’s not true, but you must understand, women civilize a place. Families serve to make it even stronger. Schools and churches are needed when you have families,and those two things bring about more law and order than a dozen police stations. I’m looking forward to meeting your wife and daughter. I was never so glad to get a telegram in all my life as when I got yours saying you were coming to Cheyenne. I know your character better than most of the men who served under me. I’d trust you with my life.”
Edward noted the admiration in Henderson’s expression. He couldn’t lie to him ... not now.
“I need to explain something. Just between you and me.” Edward glanced around. The cell behind them contained several prisoners. They were guarded by a deputy who conversed with them as if they were all old friends. Some of them probably were. A few of the men played cards together and gave an occasional protest of being cheated, but most of the men slept.
Edward lowered his voice and leaned in. “My wife Janey died trying to bear me a son. They are both buried back in Indiana. I married a good friend who was in dire need. Her father passed away leaving her and her baby sister orphans. When you said you needed family men, I figured this was a good way to help her and myself.”
“You sure didn’t need to do that. I would have taken you anyway,” Henderson said, frowning.
“It served us both.”
“Marriages of convenience usually do,” Henderson replied with a shrug. “Stranger things have happened. Folks marry complete strangers out here all the time. Next thing you know they have ten children and are pillars of the community.”
“No, that won’t happen with us. I won’t risk another woman that way. Janey was my world, and knowing I had a hand in taking her life just about caused me to take my own. Had my faith in God been less, I don’t know what I would have done.”
Edward hurried to continue. “Look, I’m just being honest with you. You deserve that much, Major—Fred. That was a year ago, and I’m in a better place now. Marybeth did a lot to see me through my loss. She was Janey’s best friend and over time became one of mine as well. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, and when folks started threatening to take her sister from her, I knew I had to help her out.”
“Why would they take her sister?”
“Why do folks ever stick their noses into other folks’ business? They thought they were being helpful while gettin’ something they wanted for themselves. A couple of rich folks wanted a child and couldn’t seem to have one, and Marybeth had no means of supporting her sister. She didn’t want to give up Carrie, and a judge got involved, so by marrying her, I could prevent that and have the family you requested. I think it’s all gonna work out fine.”
His friend gave a slow nod. “I suppose it might at that.” He pushed back his paperwork. “Why don’t you come with me? I’ll give you a tour of the town. I managed to secure a spot for you to rent. It’s in a decent location on the east side. Just about as far from Chicago as I could get.”
“Chicago?”
Henderson laughed. “That’s what we call the west side of town, although we might as well just call it hell.”
Marybeth entered the Armstrongs’ store with Carrie in her arms. The almost-two-year-old immediately started babbling and pointing. Marybeth had to admit the warmth of the store, as well as the surprising selection of items, caused her to want to point as well.
“Howdy,” a woman said, coming to Marybeth’s side. “I’m Cynthia, and this here is mine and my husband’s store.”
“I’m Marybeth Kru—Vogel,” she replied. “And this is Carrie. My husband and I and ... well, we all just arrived last night on the train from Omaha.”
“I’ll bet that was a trip and a half with a little one. Joe and I came up from Texas. When we heard about this place, it just sounded like somewhere we’d like to live. No children, though. Ours are grown and gone.”
Marybeth considered the woman a moment. She looked to be in her forties. But maybe older. Her expression bore a hardness that left her looking plain and careworn. Her brown hair was braided and pinned up, and her attire was a simple skirt and blouse with an apron worn over them.
“We ran out of food, and Carrie is hungry, so I asked about a store at the hotel.”
“We have a good selection,” Cynthia Armstrong said, motioning Marybeth to follow her. “I don’t have fresh food right now. That’s hard to get here, especially in the winter. We had some decent produce this summer whenever the railroad and freighters could coordinate. That was before the tracks reached Cheyenne. They’ve just finally managed to get us connected. There was quite the celebration last week.”
“I wasn’t expecting fresh food. Carrie will drink canned milk.”
“That I have. I also have some bread I baked yesterday, if you’d like to buy a loaf.”
“That sounds perfect. What about crackers and cheese?”
“We have those, as well as some canned foods. Occasionally, one of the local women will do some baking for me to sell here. Men will pay almost anything for a dozen freshly made cookies.” She smiled, and it softened her expression.“They can’t get away from their mamas fast enough, but when the chance for some homelike comfort comes along, they’re first in line.”
“I can understand that. I miss my mama.”
