Page 17 of Wyoming Promises
Toby stalked down the dusty street, the sharp rays of sunset hiding his heavy tread. No matter how it came about, a break from Toby merited every particle of gratitude Bridger could muster.
Bridger washed his dusty hands in the trough and slicked limp hair back under his hat. He’d done what he’d been asked to do, and done it well, which only added to Toby’s ire. The man probably thrived on delivering less-than-stellar reports on every new man.
It made no matter to him. All he wanted was a hot meal. Frank would be starving about now.
Lola’s home sat out of sight of the hotel lot, around the bend leading away from town. Awful strange vocation for a woman. Bridger felt a certain uneasiness to wonder how she could sleep in that house alone with a dead person in the next room. He shook his head. He had no call to judge. The idea of home depended on what a body grew used to, he supposed.
Many times a dead man would’ve been preferable to sharing a home with his father growing up.
Dusk settled over the town. The sky above still held the brilliance of a clear day, but the mountains already blocked the sun’s long rays. No street fires had been lit yet, but Ike would probably set his men on it before long.
Bridger nodded to Mattie as he ducked into the slow-filling saloon. “Hey, sugar, Ike’s in his office. He told me to send you in straightaway.”
“Sure thing, ma’am. That’s where I’m headed.”
“‘Ma’am’? I sure ain’t no friend of your ma, darlin’. You’d best call me Mattie, same as everyone else.” She stepped around the counter and grabbed his arm in one hand while her other slid across his chest, her eyes gleaming. “Most fellows around here are happy to be on a first-name basis with me,” she said with a wink.
He couldn’t help but smile at her. Mattie had spark. Add to the fact she knew how to dress her beauty to her own advantage, and it wasn’t hard to see why Ike’s tavern packed folks in until the wee hours. But he had more on his mind than playing her games, tempting as they were.
He hoped this meeting with Ike didn’t last long. It wouldn’t do for Frank to wander in search of his own meal. It wasn’t fair to keep him confined there for so many hours. But in Frank’s case, not much was fair. It’s only for a time, he reminded himself.
Bridger knocked on the door to Ike’s office and opened it at his muffled invitation.
Tyler waited behind his desk, reading some kind of ledger by lantern light. “I’m on my way out to greet the crowd. How’d it go today? Any trouble?”
“No more than what you expected. We brought back all you ordered, sir. That’s the main thing.” Bridger removed his hat and stood, feeling drops of water from his still-damp hair sinking into his dusty collar.
“So Johnston gave you trouble?” Ike asked, and the eagerness of his tone grated on Bridger’s frustration.
“I handled it, sir. And I appreciate the warning.” He smacked his hat against his leg to air it out. “Toby and the others are unloading supplies now, but you said you wanted to see me as soon as we made it back.”
Ike grinned and stood. “I wanted to hear how things went and to give you this for today.”
Bridger opened the envelope Tyler handed him. Five dollars? “What’s this for?”
“Today’s pay. Starting tomorrow, you’ll be on the roster, get paid regular every Friday. Today was the start of those extra jobs I mentioned. Thought it might help if you had a little cash in your pocket.”
Bridger slipped his hat back on his head. “Five dollars for one trip?”
“I told you, I treat my men well. If you brought back everything on that list, it’s nothing compared to what you saved if Mr. Johnston had decided not to honor our agreement. Regular wages are a dollar a day, plus room and board, but you show me you can handle it, I’ll have plenty extra jobs to pass along.”
“I’d appreciate that, sir.” Bridger stretched his arm over the desk to shake Mr. Tyler’s hand. Ike’s grasp crushed, but not a callus to be found on those long, pale fingers. The overall effect lacked strength but not force. “It means a lot to me to have the opportunity.”
“I hope so.” Ike slid a cigar out of a large wooden box on his desk.
“Well, sir, unless you have something more for me, I plan to grab some supper and head to my room. I’ll be ready for an early start tomorrow morning.”
Ike’s smile pulled to one corner as he lit the cigar. “Come on back over later. The night’s young and you’ve earned yourself a good time this evening.”
Bridger shifted as Ike shook out the match and took a long draw. “Unless you need me, I plan to see Miss Martin about those coffins before I turn in. I’d like to check out the tools and materials I’ll need so I can start early next week.”