Chapter 26

Wednesday morning, while at breakfast, Malik said to his brother, “It’s the first Saturday of the month coming up and Les Toomey will be coming to Dorado Springs for supplies. I’m supposed to meet him, so I won’t get back here until Sunday. What I think I’ll do is go back out to the ranch this afternoon, come back here Friday, take the train to the Springs, then come back to town on Monday.”

Andy nodded and, between bites of pancakes, said, “That’d work.”

The brothers were at breakfast with Quincy and Shea at Mrs. Kuiper’s. They were sitting at the corner of the long counter, where they could more easily converse with one another. Quincy’s plan was to return to Dorado Springs on the train later that morning.

Malik turned to Shea. “Want to see our ranch?”

Shea, nodding, said, “Very much. I know you’re proud of it. I’d like to see what Ranch Home is like.”

Malik chuckled. “Ranch Home, I’m afraid, more or less just growed like Topsy. Except for the buildings facing the plaza, the village is something of a jumble.” The expression, to “grow like Topsy” meaning to grow in an unplanned manner, is a reference to the little slave girl in Harriet Beecher Stowe’s ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’, in which the little girl admits no knowledge of her origins, but says, “I ‘spect I growed. Don’t think nobody never made me.”

Shea chuckled in turn. “No, that’s not what I meant. I wasn’t expecting a model of urban planning. In fact, I’d be disappointed if it were. I’m hoping to see something that justifies having the word ‘Home’ in its name.”

Andy said, “Then you shouldn’t be disappointed. The village is arranged like a sackful of children’s building blocks that were dumped onto the nursery floor. We’ve been trying to decide what do about the growing number of outdoor privies. We’d like to put some fashion of water and sewage disposal system in, but it will be a mare’s nest of zig-zagging water lines.”

“Have you drawn a map of the village?” Shea wanted to know.

“No,” Andy said. “That’s a good idea. It sounds like the kind of job that my wife would be good at. Yeah, thanks. I think that could help.”

“Another thing,” Shea said, “might prove helpful. As we’ve come to learn, growing cotton tends to deplete the soil quite rapidly. If you were to collect the sewage from Ranch Home and mix it with the irrigation water you send over to the cotton fields along Shepherds Creek, Fu-Chun Li says we can keep the fields going indefinitely.”

“What about the smell?” Andy said.

Malik replied, “If we piped the effluent down to the irrigation ditch, it would be more than two miles from the village before it hit open air.”

“Are my cooking odors offending you, Mister Malik?” Mrs. Kuiper called over her shoulder, from her place at the stove.

“On the contrary, Missus Kuiper. I would pay good money simply for the wonderful smells that emanate from this kitchen.”

“Is there something wrong with the money you pay me now? Do you have some form of better money? Why am I getting your cast off coins, Mister Malik? Something about that smells fishy to me.”

“You’re overreaching, Missus Kuiper. That’s not up to your usual standard.”

“Perhaps. But at least your conversation is no longer offensive to your fellow diners.”

Malik looked startled, then embarrassed. “Ah. Yes. I should have realized. My apologies, everyone. And to you Missus Kuiper.”

“We’ll talk later about your good money, Mister Malik.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Andy, suppressing a smile, said, under his breath, “Nice going, big brother.”

Quincy said, “Speaking of problems, you mentioned the other day your concern about too much initial demand when you start your coach service.”

“Do you have a solution for us, Morton?” Andy said.

“Perhaps. What you might do is make all seats reserved seats for the first week, at no extra charge, and start selling tickets at, say, six o’clock Saturday morning, if your service is to start Monday. That should flush out the most serious riders and the rest will be able to sort themselves out in a more leisurely fashion.”

Shea said, “Another method would be to throw the names in a hat and draw out the names of those to have the first rides. That should be done a couple days in advance, too.”

Andy said, “Now I’m reminded why it is we hang around with you fellas.”

Malik said, again to Shea, “Maybe you’d like to go over to the Springs with me. You can see the resort we’re building, even sit in the hot spring pool if you’d like. Did you bring swim togs, by any chance?”

“Nope. Never even owned any.”

“Yeah, me neither. I’ve just cut the bottom of the legs off some old dungarees and the sleeves off a flannel shirt. The warm water is nice, though it does have a bit of an odor. We can use the bunks in my railcar or you can rent a house, if you prefer. It’s inexpensive, still.”

“Where does your man sleep?” Shea asked.

“My man?”

“I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten his name. The young Chinese man who often accompanies you.”

“Oh, you mean Lee Jin. I wouldn’t have thought of him as ‘my man’. He seems anything but that. However, he usually makes a pallet on the floor.”

“Well, sleeping in your car sounds like more of an adventure, and a fairly comfortable one, so count me in.”

“It is comfortable. My ... my wife had some serious mattresses made.

As the breakfast table began to empty around them, Andy said, “You know, you should probably sell swim togs, at the Spa, I mean. Maybe sun hats and bonnets, too.”

Quincy was nodding. “And riding clothes,” Quincy added.

“Then,” Shea said, “perhaps some of those souvenir postal cards, with a print on the one side, or maybe ... yes, high-quality bath towels with the Spa’s name woven in.”

Quincy said, “Just don’t use them in the rooms, else they’ll begin to disappear.”

“Looks like you’ll need some sort of shop,” Andy added.

“Looks like I need to hire a manager, and tout de suite,” Malik said.

“Are there any Sonora that could handle it?” Andy asked.

“I think there are several smart enough and with the proper temperament, but no one familiar with the necessary business procedures.”

“What about one of the Tsosies? Mockingbird, for instance.”

“She’s Navajo, remember?”

“Yeah,” Andy said, “but the Tsosies get on well with the Sonora. Mockingbird’s been running the Tsosie’s ranch school for years, plus managing her share of the trust and helping Tilly with the ranch’s books. She’s cheerful and accommodating, and she’s about as level-headed as they come.”

“Let me think about it. I suppose it will mean there’s a good chance I won’t be back on Monday. Wilber, looks like you’ll have a choice of riding the forty-five miles out to the Tsosie ranch, waiting around the Springs until I return, or just taking the train back to Waypoint.”

“Sorry, Emil, much as I’d like to, my backside hurts just from thinking about a ride that long. I suppose I’ll just come back here. I’ve plenty to do.”

“Well, then, as long as I’ll be in that neck of the woods, I may as well ride over to the Doña Anna, just to show the colors. A day or two at each ranch and I may be gone for the entire week, Andy.”

As Malik and Lee were saddling their horses, Lee said, “I not go on ride to far ranches. I not good at far ride.”

“I’ve noticed that even the ride between here and Ranch Home leaves you sore, Jin.”

“I am do better, but many miles I no good.”

“There’s no way around it, though, Jin. You’ll have to begin riding more often.

“I’ll tell you what: Let’s pick out a horse for you when we get to Ranch Home, with a decent saddle. You’d probably do better with a smaller horse and a bit narrower gullet to the saddle. We’ll do that, and that will be your horse and saddle to keep, even if you leave here.”

Lee paused and looked at Malik. “That big gift. You thank me.”

Malik smiled. “Maybe you should practice your English, too.

At the Malik hacienda Thursday morning, he sat down to talk with Wren. They were enjoying a late-morning coffee in the courtyard.

“I know you’ve kept busy, here, since Gabriela died. And your help with the children and in the kitchen and around the hacienda has been sincerely appreciated. In point of fact, though, you’re still considered to be staff out at the Doña Anna, even though Gabriela and I took over your wages. And I’ve told you about the new profit-sharing bonus that began this year at the Doña Anna. But I realized that I had not asked you what you wanted to do: stay here, return to the Doña Anna, or maybe do something else, altogether?”

Wren looked down at her hands, which she was wringing in her lap. Finally, she looked up and said, with a hint of tears in her eyes, “I don’t think I could work at the Doña Anna, again. I went there to work for Miz Gabriela. I just couldn’t...”

“I understand, Wren, believe me, I do. I’m planning to go out there again, in a few days, but, as beautiful as it is up there, it just overwhelms me with her memory.” Malik, himself, looked somewhat affected by the recollection.

He returned to the topic, however. “So, what would be your druthers for your immediate future?”

She paused, obviously giving the question some thought. “I suppose, for the time being, I would like to continue helping with the babies. Not just because they’re babies, I mean.” She appeared flustered. “What I mean is, I enjoy taking care of children, and I certainly like caring for Gabriela’s daughter. And the other two as well. I like the way it feels like I’m part of the family.”

Malik speculated, “I imagine, in time, you’d like to get married and have your own children.”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” She was wringing her hands again.

“But, what? What has you concerned, Wren?”

At that moment, Christina stepped out from the doorway to the front room. She came over, placed her hand on Wren’s shoulder, and said, “She feels uncertain of her prospects because she is part Navajo and part colored.”

Malik sat back in his chair, his eyes wide. “Oh, I never ... It simply never occurred to me. I mean, I can see where it would be worrisome, but I’ve been a part of the Tsosie family for so long that I just always think of you as the, well, the kind and generous young lady that you are. And quite easy on the eye, if I were to say so.” Malik’s face showed his own uncertainty as he asked, “Has no young man ever given you attention?”

“A couple. But I’ve never encouraged them.”

Christina said, “Need I remind you, Emil, that Wren was sweet on Jim Johnson?” She referred to Doña Anna’s prior foreman, who disappeared and was thought to have killed himself.

“Ah, criminy, Wren, I’m so sorry. No matter what, I seem to be doing this ham-handed.”

“Don’t feel that way, Shadow. You and I have never spoken of such matters before. How would you have known?”

“But I did know, about Jim, I did. I’m sorry to be hurting you when I wanted to help. Christina, maybe you’d sit down and help me out.”

Christina pulled one of the rocking chairs over to keep the conversation intimate. “Don’t be hard on yourself, Emil. You deserve recognition simply for broaching the topic.”

“Well, my purpose was to make sure Wren was pursuing activities that she found suitable. Perhaps I shouldn’t have wandered away from that topic.”

Christina shrugged. “Perhaps. But I’m sure you take an interest as part and parcel of your closeness to the Tsosies, so your interest in the personal life of your adopted little sister is not out of line.”

“So I may be a dolt, but at least I have a legitimate right to it, is that what you’re saying?”

“If it helps you to see it that way,” Christina said, smiling. “But Matilda and I have already spoken to Wren about her plans. And we transferred her wages to the Malik ranch account months ago. She’ll continue as she has, for the foreseeable future, as long as she likes.” Sha patted Wren’s hands.

“Good, good. That is what you want, for certain, Wren?”

“Yes, Shadow. I feel very happy here.”

“Very well, then. But there is something else I wanted to ask you about, regarding Mockingbird and Stands-To-Cougar. Or even yourself, for that matter.

“I am looking for a manager for the hotel and Spa we are building in Dorado Springs, and other help, as well. It occurred to me that Mockingbird might be suited to the manager’s job. And then I remembered that Stands-To-Cougar has been acting as the de facto foreman of the Tsosie ranch for nearly six years. At the same time, I know you have a passel of siblings and cousins who are growing into ranch jobs. Do you have any idea if Mockingbird and Stands-To-Cougar would be interested in jobs at the Spa in the Springs?”

Wren looked from Malik to Christina and back again. “I don’t rightly know,” she said. “It’s possible. Last I talked with Mockingbird she seemed, oh, I don’t know ... wistful? I think both her and Cougar wouldn’t mind a little more ... adventure in their lives. But you’d have to talk to them.”

“And, of course, I will. I just wanted to get your impression that I wouldn’t be wasting my time or putting her on the spot.”

“Oh, you know you can talk to Mockingbird. If I’m your younger sister than she’s your elder sister. She wouldn’t think twice ‘bout laughing in your face, if it suited her.”

Malik chuckled. “I reckon that’s true enough.”

Christina said, “Not to throw a hitch into your plans, but have you approached the four sisters? After all, they’ve been running an accommodation business in the Springs for more than ten years.”

Malik wrinkled his brow. “Can’t say I’ve talked to all of them, no. I only talked to the three that were at the lunch bar the day the topic came up. They all said they wanted to stay with the food business and would like to run the hotel restaurant. They’d bring their daughters in to start to take charge of the lunch counter. So I’ve been figuring on them for the kitchen and dining room. I’m not even sure any more which of them I’ve talked to and who it is I haven’t. I suppose I’d best ask them, again, before I go to Mockingbird.”

“That would seem advisable, Emil.”

The usual arrangement, on the southbound leg of his transfers on the Fort Birney trunk, was to have his stock car attached to the rear of the train, with his business car trailing behind that. Northbound, the stock car would be in trail. It made for faster and more convenient switching for the trains and it made little difference to Malik.

At Dorado Springs, he had been informed by Conductor Gerald Timmons, his cars were to be cut from the train while it was stopped on the depot siding and would then be moved to the former coal siding by the yard switcher, an aging American-model locomotive, the same model of locomotive that spotted his cars back on the Malik siding at Waypoint, after they were decoupled from the northbound.

Malik and Shea had stepped out onto the business car’s platform, which had been at the very rear of the train, to observe the switching operation, when Malik noticed a group of a half dozen men walking away from the depot.

Each man was wearing workman’s garb and carrying a long, seaman’s-style duffle. They were accompanied by a man on horseback. That man, who appeared tall and fit, was wearing riding clothes common among sporting riders: jodhpurs, riding boots, and a dress shirt with a cravat, but without the customary hip-length, short-lapeled jacket. It was not an unusual style, even in the West, though rare in Dorado Springs. The man on horseback was unknown to Malik, but he did recognize several of the other men as having been involved in the recent anti-Chinese incident at Baylor’s store. They had fled the jurisdiction, presumably to Texas, after being released on bail.

Just before the group walked out of sight, east of the tracks, one of the men from Baylor’s had looked over and apparently seen Malik. He spoke to the man on the horse, who also looked back toward Malik. Then the group was lost to view among the commercial buildings.

At that same moment, Malik’s attention was drawn by Nathan Ulney and Morton Quincy as they walked up to the car, just as the switch engine was approaching.

“Emil, can we talk with you?” the sheriff asked.

“Come on up.” Malik backed away from the steps and walked back inside the car. Shea and the others followed.

Malik said, “Let’s sit over in the passenger seats. We could be jostled, some, as they switch us.”

After the men were seated and Ulney and Shea introduced, Ulney said, “I saw you watching that man on horseback.”

The car gave a lurch as the switch engine coupled to it.

“Him, but mostly those with him. I recognized at least three of them as bail jumpers, following an anti-Chinese assault at Baylor’s store two weeks ago. The other three I didn’t get a look at.”

Ulney was nodding. “I heard about that. Well, the man on the horse says his name is Marvin Vandeventer, according to Olaf Nilsson. His business card says he works for the Labor Pioneers as their recruitment manager for the southwest region. He talked to Olaf on Tuesday, asking about labor conditions. Since then, we’ve been keeping an eye on him. He’s been buying rounds at the saloons, at least those catering mostly to whites. He’s also been spending time at the Coates livery stable, and has been palling around with the manager.”

“Any idea what they’re up to?”

“None. Long Hand is watching him, at the moment. I would guess, though, that he’s been waiting for those other birds to get here.”

The car was bouncing around a bit as it was maneuvered over various switches, moving from the depot siding, across the main line, and onto the old coal siding.

“Are there any Chinese working in town?”

Quincy said, “There are three working on the hotel construction, but all the other laborers are Mexican and Sonoras, so it would seem unlikely they could single them out.”

“Any Chinese families in town?”

Ulney said, “There were a few, but they all moved down to Kylie Junction when the railroad started building the mine spur.”

“So, then, what are they doing here?”

There was a tap at the car door, which was heard to open. A voice called, “You’re spotted and the brakes applied on both cars, Mister Malik. Do you need anything else?”

“Nothing I can think of. Thanks for your help.”

“Da nada, Mister Malik.” The door closed.

“Vandeventer may work for the union, but the rest of them seem to work for that agitator, Boris Volkov. Has he been around?”

Ulney said, “Not to my knowledge. He hasn’t been with Vandeventer. The only one he’s spent any time with has been Alva Dudek, from Coates’s stable. But I have no idea what that Boris guy looks like, so he could be here and I’d not know it.

Malik said, “I saw him from a distance the day he spoke with Mitchel Anderson, our county clerk. He’s a good-sized man, looked a bit florid in coloration, and he was wearing an amber-colored suit with a large, blue, windowpane plaid design. I would expect you’d have taken note of him had you seen him, Nathan, as a law officer observing the strangers in town. How did Vandeventer come to your attention?”

“Olaf came to see me as soon as Vandeventer left his office. He’s aware of the problems you had in Waypoint, and the trouble up in Buchholz.”

Quincy said, “Maybe both you and Nathan could confront him, Emil, as law officers. Ask him what he and those men are up to.”