The Bridge

75

I was sitting in a comfortable chair on the porch of Virgil and Allie’s place with the morning sunshine warming my face. The early snow was all gone now and the temperature was pleasant. The streets were still muddy, but the crops and fields in the area were thankful for the early winter soaking.

Business was back to normal in Appaloosa. The streets were busy with activity. I thought about what Wallis had said, about how many people were in the town now. Appaloosa had changed damn near before our eyes from a little town to a city, a full-grown city. Hocus-goddamn-pocus.

Nell came walking up the boardwalk, spinning her parasol on her shoulder. Her chin was high and her posture was erect. She had a degree of purpose and pride to her step. She waited for a buggy to pass, then crossed the street. She was smiling when she approached the porch.

“Hello,” she said.

“Morning,” I said.

“A nice one,” she said.

“It is,” I said. “And I suspect the warmer conditions we got now, and the fact the tent-show outfit is finally going to get rigged up, that you’re feeling somewhat chipper.”

“How did you know?” she said, as she walked up the steps.

“Well, hell, I could tell it,” I said. “Saw it right off. Watching you coming a block away.”

“Why,” she said with a smile and a spin of the parasol, “are you some kind of officer?”

“I am, as a matter of fact,” I said back with a smile. “Have a seat.”

“Why, thank you,” she said. “You the only one home?”

“I am,” I said. “Virgil’s at the office and Allie’s with her ladies’ social. She’s drumming up ticket sales for your show.”

“She’s something else,” Nell said.

“Yes, she is,” I said.

Nell sat in the center of the hanging bench swing just to the left of me. She was wearing a yellow gingham dress under a long, thin dark green topcoat with brown velvet cuffs and lapels.

“You’re looking better, Everett,” she said.

“Than what?” I said.

“Than before,” she said.

“Before what?” I said.

“When you were at Doc’s.”

“You came?”

She tilted her head and smiled.

“You’re a devil,” she said.

“Am I?”

“Did I come?” Nell said with a slight pull of her chin to her collarbone. “I most certainly did.”

“Doc Crumley had me on double doses of the devil himself there for a while,” I said. “So there was a lot of chasing butterflies, running through fields of flowers, and kissing beautiful women and that sort of thing.”

“Imagine that?” she said with a smile. “And that sort of thing.”

“Only so much time for flowers, butterflies, and beautiful women,” I said.

“Yes, a shame, really,” Nell said. “We all need more of that sort of beauty in our lives, don’t you think?”

“As long as it’s not in a bottle,” I said.

She nodded. Smiled.

“Well,” she said. “I’m very glad to see you’re looking well.”

“Thank you,” I said.

She reached out and grabbed my hand and squeezed it a little as she looked directly at me.

“Scary?” she said.

“Not at the time,” I said.

She just looked at me for an extended moment, then looked to the street. She smiled a little.

“My husband was right,” she said, looking back to me.

“About?” I said.

“Me,” she said.

“What about you?”

“That I have a good eye,” she said.

I had a good idea what she was getting at, but I was in the mood, so I asked anyway.

“What do you mean?”

“When I first saw you,” Nell said. “He was right.”

“About?” I said.

“You, of course,” she said.

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” she said. “Being a man of substance. A man of quick resolve.”

We stood together in silence. She looked off down the street for some time, then looked back to me.

“About what I said,” Nell said. “When we were washing dishes together.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “You don’t have to say anything.”

She smiled.

“Not that I’ve not thought about it,” I said. “I have.”

“Thought of it?” Nell said.

“Yes,” I said, “but another man’s wife is another man’s wife.”

She looked at me, nodding slightly, and a slow smile came to her face.

“Thought about it?” she said.

I nodded.

Nell nodded... “Can I ask you a question?” she said.

“Of course,” I said.

“Do you think I’m beautiful?” Nell said.

“I do.”

“Good,” she said. “I needed to make sure.”

“Make sure?” I said.

“Yes,” she said. “I just needed to know it was beautiful me with the flowers and the butterflies.”

“Now that you mention it,” I said. “I’m pretty sure it was you.”

She laughed and looked away.

“What’s funny?”

She looked back to me, that certain look in her eye.

“There’s no pretty sure to it,” Nell said.