But of all the freight that arrived, none was looked upon as a more certain sign of domestication than the load of forty housecats. They arrived in crates aboard a spring wagon, brought in by a speculator from Cheyenne who, within twenty-four hours of his arrival, sold the entire load at the preposterous price of $25 per head.
Though Sarah had no opportunity to announce the arrival of the felines before they were snapped up, she did, however, manage to buy one of them herself. It was a short-haired white female with one blue eye and one green. From the moment she picked it up—a placid, full-grown, overtly affectionate creature—she fell in love with it. The cat squinted, nuzzled and bumped the bottom of Sarah’s chin with the top of its head, inviting attention. Sarah scratched its neck and it began purring.
“Hi, puss,” she murmured. “You look just like old Ruler.” Ruler was the cat she and Addie had grown up with, so named because they had all agreed he’d ruled the roost. “You like that scratching, huh?”
Much as she would have loved to keep the cat herself, she took it to the office only temporarily, where it immediately stopped the presses. Josh and Patrick left their work to take turns holding and scratching the new arrival, examining its colorful eyes, then turning it loose to nose around the perimeter of the room, where it explored the base of the press and sniffed the oily ink containers. Eventually it jumped up on Sarah’s desk chair, licked its shoulders a few times, curled its paws to the inside and rounded up like a plumped pillow.
Josh was entranced.
“We can use a mouser around here. What’re you going to name it?”
“I’m not. I’m going to give it to my sister.”
“Aww... really?”
“Really. She always loved cats, and I’ve noticed there are other pets around that place. There’s even a green parrot.”
“Gosh! Really?” Josh’s eyes grew excited. “I’d like to see that!”
“No you don’t, young man. I told you once before, you stay away from there. But you know cats. This one won’t take any time at all before she’ll have a family of her own, and I intend to tell Addie that we want the pick of the litter. You’re right. We could use a hunter around here to keep the mice from eating the newsprint.”
She set out for Addie’s late that afternoon. It was a gray, glowering day with snow threatening again. Above the surrounding rock walls fat-cheeked clouds seemed to whistle and spit gusts of wind down the ravine. It lifted Sarah’s coat hem and sent shivers up her spine as she hurried along with the cat tucked below her chin, inside her woolen coat, with only its white face protruding. Though at their November meeting the town council had approved the building of a jail and a church, they had voted down standardizing the boardwalks, so it was up and down, up and down, as Sarah walked along the shelter of the building walls. Head down, she was climbing the steps at the end of a section of walk when she bumped smack into a body going the opposite direction.
“Whoa! Careful there!” Two gloved hands closed over her coat sleeves, and she looked up into a face with a familiar auburn mustache. He was wearing his new brown Stetson and a sheepskin jacket that made him appear half again his normal girth.
“Marshal, I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
He released her and grinned down at the cat. “What’ve you got there?” He reached out one thick-gloved finger that dwarfed the cat’s head.
“I’m one of the lucky ones. I managed to get one.”
“So I see.” He attempted to scratch the cat’s chin, but the animal was frantic and wide-eyed, squeezed as it was inside the coat.
“Look,” Sarah told Noah, lifting the creature’s head. “She’s got one green eye and one blue eye. Isn’t that odd?”
They inspected the cat for some moments. “Sometimes cats with two different-colored eyes are deaf,” Noah told her.
“Really?”
“Mm-hmm. I remember one when I was a kid, belonged to an old man named Sandusky who had a candle shop. He used to kick the cat out of his way when it didn’t hear him coming. Always made me want to kick old Sandusky back. So where you going, kitty?” he asked the cat.
“I’m taking her to Addie.”
Standing close on the windy boardwalk, they finally allowed their eyes to meet. Sarah had one hand folded around the cat’s head to keep it from leaping, while Noah’s gloved finger remained at its nose.
“That’s nice of you. I imagine you’d like it for yourself.”
“We always had cats when we were children, and I think Addie misses them. She keeps a stuffed cat on the bed in her private room.”
Looking into Noah Campbell’s gray eyes, Sarah wondered if he still frequented Rose’s, particularly if he still saw Addie. The idea of his doing so created a queer lump in her chest. It came so suddenly she hadn’t time to reason why.
Her attention returned to the cat. “This one is the same color as our old pet, Ruler.”
“She’ll like that.”
“I hope so. I hope she’ll accept it. She still won’t talk to me civilly, or ingratiate herself to me in any way, yet I think she’s terribly lonely.”
Noah had never imagined the prostitutes being lonely. They were brash and forward and lived in their cloister with each other for company, days, and no letup to the incoming company, nights. But of course they must be lonely. How blind of him not to realize it until Sarah Merritt pointed it out.
Before he could remark, she went on. “I’m her only sister, and in spite of her fallen state, we could be friends again if only she’d let me. It hurts very much, being shut out when all I want to do is help.”
Noah studied the part in Sarah’s hair, what little bit showed in front of the woolen scarf tied around her head; he studied her smooth forehead, her thick eyelashes and pretty blue eyes, her downturned face as she concentrated on the cat. She was so absolutely untarnished. By contrast, he recalled Rose the morning she’d tried to seduce him, with her hair sagging and her gown gaping, and her general look of dissipation. He hadn’t been back to any of the brothels since that day, hadn’t even wanted to go.
“Maybe she’s ashamed of having you see her there.”
“She doesn’t act ashamed. She acts brazen.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t explain it. But I think she’ll love the cat.”
Two men came by. Sarah and Noah stepped aside to let them pass. When they were alone again, she returned her attention to the cat, resumed her scratching. “Mr. Campbell...?” It was on the tip of her tongue to pose a question beyond all impertinence. It had been on her mind for some time to ask him if Addie had ever spoken to him about home, if she’d given any clue to what had driven her away. In the end Sarah could not muster the courage to inquire about anything that had passed between her sister and this man while they were customer and courtesan.
“Oh, nothing,” she said. “I guess I’ll have to figure out Addie for myself.” Sarah looked up and snapped out of her pensive mood. “I see the hat fits.” It was the first time since she’d given it to him that it had been mentioned. He never wore it to the table at the boardinghouse, but she hadn’t seen him anywhere else without it. The rich brown felt was almost the same color as his auburn hair, which quirked up below the hatband at his temples. By now she was quite familiar with it.
“Yes, it does. It’s a dandy hat—thank you.” He felt silly for not having said that a month ago, but a month ago they weren’t speaking.
“And your eye is all healed.”
“Oh that...” He waved a hand in disregard.
“And your hearing? Was it bothered?”
He cupped an ear and shouted, “What?”
They both laughed, then fell still and a little amazed, watching the change in each others’ eyes before their gazes parted.
“Well,” she said, increasingly ill at ease, “I’d better be on my way. It’s cold out here.”
“Yes... see you tonight at supper.” He touched his hat brim and they moved off in opposite directions.
/> Twenty feet up the boardwalk, Noah gave in to the impulse to turn around and look back at her. He stopped, turned and found her doing exactly the same thing—standing on the boardwalk looking back at him with the cat tucked beneath her chin.
For several seconds they stared. And grew conscious and self-conscious by turns.
Then, simultaneously, they spun and hurried off, wishing they had not turned around in the first place.
Sarah had not seen Addle since the outbreak of smallpox. She hoped that the ensuing weeks might have mollified Addie and her reception might be warmer. Standing in the hall outside Addie’s room, Sarah unbuttoned her coat, perched the cat on one arm and knocked.
Addie called, “Who is it?”
“It’s Sarah.”
After a length of silence the door opened narrowly. “What do you want this time?” Addie was wearing the same dressing robe as the day she’d been collecting clothes from the line.
“I wanted to make sure you’re all right.”
“I am.”
“I’ve brought you something.”
Addie’s eyes dropped to the cat and the hard lines of her face melted.
“For me?” The door opened more.
“A fellow from Cheyenne brought a load of them in this afternoon and it was a mad scramble, but I managed to get one. Here...” Sarah held out the creature. “She’s for you.”
“Oh...” Addie reached out as if mesmerized.
“She rode here buttoned inside my coat, so she’s probably a little skittish right now.”
“Ohhh, look at you...” Addie cooed to the cat, taking it beneath its front legs and drawing it near her body. “You look just like old Ruler.” She turned, taking the cat inside. Sarah followed uncertainly, remaining near the open door. Addie cuddled the cat, settling it on her arm and dropping her face down to rub its head until the cat grew cautious and leaped onto the bed.
Addie followed, sitting on the edge of the mattress, stretching out a hand to entice the creature to come close and allow itself to be petted. When it did, she gathered it onto her lap, set to work giving its throat a two-handed workover.
“You came all the way from Cheyenne? Hey, we’re going to take good care of you and keep you away from that nasty old parrot.”
All of her antipathy had vanished. She spoke to the animal affectionately, even maternally. Looking on, Sarah glowed within. To see Addie with her veneer of antagonism finally dissolved had been Sarah’s dearest hope.
“What’s its name?” Addie asked, still lavishing attention on the beast.
“It hasn’t got one that I know of.”
“Maybe I’ll call it Ruler.”
“I was hoping you would.” It was the first memento of the past Addie had allowed. Sarah inched into the room and stood near the foot of the bed a good distance from her sister. Though she wanted to sit down beside Addie, Sarah resisted the urge. Though she wanted to flop onto her stomach and lie side by side with Addie, admiring the cat, she refrained. She was wise enough to realize she could not force a return of affection; it would take time and nurturing to draw Addie from her indifference.
“It’s a female, and I expect it’ll have a Utter someday. When it does, I wouldn’t mind having one of her kittens to keep in the newspaper office.”
For the first time since Sarah had presented her gift, Addie looked at her.
“You wanted Ruler for yourself, didn’t you?”
“No. I bought her for you. But I took her over to the office to show the fellows, and Josh fell in love with her.”
For a while their gazes held. The room seemed filled with tremulous feelings not unlike those preceding a first kiss—that moment of uncertainty and hope when two people poise on a brink that will forever change their sentimental climate.
“Who’s Josh?” Addie finally inquired.
It was the first sign of interest Addie had shown in Sarah’s doings. Encouraged by it, Sarah perched on the bed at the far end from her sister. Addie let her.
“Josh is a young boy who works for me. His parents own the bakery.”
“And the other fellow is Pat Bradigan?”
“Yes. He’s a tramp printer, but a good one.”
Sarah was happy Addie didn’t say, I know him. She called him Pat instead of Patrick—that was clue enough that he, too, had probably been one of Addie’s customers.
“He drinks a lot, and someday I know he’ll simply not show up for work and I’ll never see him again, but meanwhile I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
Addie said, “I read your editorial.”
“What did you think?”
“Rose didn’t like it.”
“I really don’t care whether she did or not. I mean to close her down, and all the other houses in the badlands.”
“And then what happens to me?”
“You’ll be out of here, I hope.”
Addie got to her feet, taking the cat with her. “Well, what if I don’t want to be?”
“Please understand, Addie, there are things I must say, as a newspaperwoman. Father taught me that.”
“Father, Father—I wish you’d stop talking about him!”
Studying Addie’s back, Sarah sensed their thin reconciliation crumbling. She rose. “I think I’d better go now and preserve what little headway we’ve made today. Take good care of Ruler.”
Addie stubbornly said nothing.
Sarah moved toward the door.
Suddenly Addie spun. “Hey, Sarah?”
Sarah stopped and met her sister’s eyes.
“Thanks.”
Sarah smiled, lifted a hand in farewell and left.
Outside, the late afternoon weather was abominable. It had begun to sleet. The sides of the gulch were obliterated by the downfall, which seemed to isolate any pocket of life afoot. The occasional lamplight falling from windows shimmered and fragmented across the glazed boardwalks. From inside the saloons the sounds were muted, and Sarah felt sorry for the animals left to stand in the elements with icicles forming on their manes and tails. She gripped her collar shut and stalked along with her head down. Her emotions were in a state of flux and she needed someone to talk to about both Addie and the marshal. It had been an unnerving afternoon. Patrick could close up the office for the day so she need not return there, and she had no desire to face Noah Campbell across a supper table. So she headed instead for Emma’s, hoping for a supper invitation.
She found her friend, as expected, preparing the meal for her family in the warm, redolent kitchen above the bakery. Lettie answered her knock and smiled when she saw it was Sarah.
“Hello, Miss Merritt.”
“Hello, Lettie, how are you?”
“Better.” But Lettie hung her head.
Sarah tilted Lettie’s chin up and spoke looking square into her striking brown eyes. “You are a beautiful girl, Lettie. Never forget that. Beauty is a thing that starts deep in the depths of one’s soul and shines forth with an unmistakable glow from the eyes and the smile. You still have that glow, believe me. I, for one, would sign indenture papers if I could have your pretty face.”
Lettie blushed—a healthy sign, Sarah thought. “I’ve interrupted your game. I’m sorry. Hello, Geneva.”
Lettie rejoined Geneva at the kitchen table, where a game of rummy was in progress.
Geneva smiled and Sarah said, “Hello, Emma. May I come in?”
“What are you doing out on a nasty afternoon like this?” At the stove, Emma turned over a chop in a skillet, sending up a sizzle and a mouth-watering smell.
“I just came from visiting Addie.”
“Girls, put your cards away now and go fetch your father. Tell him supper’s just about ready.” When they were gone, Emma inquired, “So how are things with your sister?”
“Thawing.” Sarah began unbuttoning her coat without invitation.
“Well, hallelujah.”
“Save your rejoicing. I haven’t melted her yet.”
“Sit down. Tell me
what happened today.”
“I bought her a cat.”
“You paid twenty-five dollars for one of those cats!”
“It was worth it to see the look on Addie’s face. It’s the first time I’ve seen even a glimpse of the old Addie. She said she’s going to name it Ruler, like the cat we had when we were children. Do you know, Emma, that’s the first reference to our life back in St. Louis that hasn’t soured her and made her grow hateful? And just before I left she thanked me.”
“Sounds to me like you’re getting through to her.”
“Maybe... though we did have words about my stand on the brothels, which seemed to put us back on shaky footing. She’s so distant, Emma. So guarded, as if showing any emotions toward me would belittle her in some way. I simply can’t understand it.”
Emma lifted a cover, sending up a cloud of steam. She tested a potato with a two-pronged fork. “I’m afraid I can’t shed any light on it either.”
“Marshal Campbell says maybe she’s ashamed to have me see her there.”
“Oh?” Replacing the cover, Emma glanced at Sarah and raised one eyebrow. “You’ve been talking to the marshal?”
“We’ve been talking for some time.”
“Not voluntarily.”
“We ran into each other on the street this afternoon.”
“You mean you actually carried on a civilized conversation?”
“Quite a civilized one, as a matter of fact.”
“It must have been, if you could bring up such a touchy subject as your sister.” Emma went to a bureau and found a flowered tablecloth.
“What do you think of him, Emma?” Sarah inquired pensively.
“He’s got a hard job.” Emma flared the tablecloth and let it settle on the table. “Seems to come from decent folks. He’s a fair man, I already told you that. What do you think of him?”
“I think he’s stubborn—still he was very cooperative during the epidemic. I think he respects the work I do, but almost against his will. I think he believes women are much more suited to Addie’s profession than to mine.”
“Here”—Emma handed Sarah a stack of plates—“set the table, would you? Something happen between you two you aren’t telling me about?”