The Man From Nowhere

Chapter 30

“Maybe,” Stella said, “everybody’s still asleep.”

“It is early yet,” Nellie said, “and people do like to stay late in bed on a rainy day.”

Lorraine’s eyes were bleak. “It’s a dead town. There’s nothing there for us.”

“It seems to me we should ride down there and take a look,” Rivette said. “Not much point in talking about it up here, no.”

“At least we can shelter from the rain, huh?” Nellie said, smiling.

No one answered, bitter disappointment tugging at all of them.

Oates and Nantan in the lead, they crossed the bridge and rode into the street. Windows stared at them with cold, unfriendly eyes and somewhere a forlorn door banged incessantly in the gusting wind.

The stores were empty of goods, and many of their doors stood open, as though their owners had left in a hurry and had never returned. A single hat, frilled with white net and decorated with red flowers, stood askew on a stand in the window of the New York Chapeau Shoppe.

Lorraine urged her horse onto the boardwalk, rode into the store through its open door and grabbed the hat. When she emerged, her battered old sombrero was gone and the fancy chapeau was on her head.

“I declare, Lorraine,” Nellie said, “that’s stealing. You’re such a whore.”

“It’s not stealing when nobody owns it,” Lorraine said. “And it takes one to know one, Nellie.”

They rode past a blacksmith shop, its forge long gone cold, then the Alamo, Sideboard and Last Chance saloons. All their windows were smashed and the roof of the Last Chance had fallen in along with one of its walls.

Set back from the street behind what had once been a well-tended lawn, now overgrown with cactus and bunchgrass, was the Bon View Hotel. It was a two-story timber building with fine balconies on both floors and it seemed to be largely intact, apart from a few broken windows and a front door that was off one of its hinges. But the place looked lost, as though it had wandered away from the town and couldn’t find its way back.

The doors of the livery stable were open, but the stalls were empty, and a soaked coyote slunk away as they rode up on the burned-out hulk of Solly Diamond’s Burlesque Theater and Dance Hall. Next door the First Bank of Heartbreak was also a charred shell, like the theater, probably the result of a lightning strike.

Beyond lay a few shacks in varying states of disrepair, then an endless vista of forested hills that invited the riders to share their somber loneliness.

Oates pulled up and without looking at the others, said, “Welcome to Heartbreak, the end of the trail and the ass end of everything.”

Nellie was snuffling back tears and even Nantan looked numb, as though she’d looked around her and decided to retreat to a distant place.

“We’ll put the horses up in the barn, then head back to the hotel,” Oates said.

“Anything to get out of this rain,” Lorraine said. “My new hat will be ruined.”

There was still a supply of hay in the barn and a couple of sacks of oats that had been attacked by rats but still held enough to last their mounts a few days. The livery had a good, solid roof and was dry, and the horses seemed glad to be finally out of the weather.

“It feels good to be in a dry place,” Nellie said as she stood in the middle of the hotel lobby, looking around her. “I wonder if there are still beds in the rooms?”

“Let’s take a look,” Lorraine said.

After the women went upstairs, Oates, Tatum and Rivette searched the rest of the hotel. There were no signs of hurried departure, half-eaten meals on the dining room tables, a newspaper dropped to the floor in the lobby or carbonized steaks on the grill that had continued to cook until the stove fire went out.

It looked as if the people had just abandoned the town and gone somewhere else.

“Apaches?” Oates asked Rivette.

The gambler shook his head. “I don’t think so. Apaches would have burned the place.”

“Mr. Rivette,” Sam Tatum said, “why would the people leave?”

“Why does any town die? There could be a number of reasons. Most likely a prospector staked a silver claim, then others arrived hoping to strike it rich. When the claims didn’t pan out, there was nothing to keep the miners here any longer.”

He smiled at Tatum. “I think the name of the town should give you a fair clue to what folks ended up thinking about their prospects here.”

“Two saloons, a theater and dance hall, and a fair-sized hotel,” Oates said. “Somebody invested money.”

Rivette nodded. “There are always people willing to take a chance, hoping for a boomtown. It just didn’t happen. When the cards fall that way, all a man can do is pick up his chips and try somewhere else.”

“But where did the people go?” Tatum insisted.

“I don’t know, Sam, but I’d guess south to Silver City or Lordsburg.” He looked around him, at the cobwebbed ceiling and dust lying thick everywhere. “It all happened a fair spell ago, maybe before the stage station at Cuchilla was built.”

The kitchen had been stripped bare of supplies, which was bad news. Now finding grub would become a priority.

Lorraine came downstairs and stood at the door to the dining room. “There are beds upstairs, but no mattresses. Nellie is distraught.”

“No food either,” Oates said. “As soon as the rain clears, we’ll have to move out.”

“Move out to where?” Stella asked, pushing past Lorraine. “We came to Heartbreak to start a new life, and that’s just what we’re going to do.”

“Stella, it’s a ghost town, or haven’t you noticed?” Lorraine said.

“I’ve noticed, but we’re going to bring Heartbreak back to life. We’ll open our own house as we planned, maybe hire some more girls, and hang out a Welcome sign at both ends of town. The men will come and bring money with them.”

She looked at Rivette. “Warren, you can start a saloon. Lord knows, you’ve spent enough time in them to know the business.”

The gambler smiled. “Stella, I greatly admire your spunk and determination, and I admit that opening my own saloon has its attractions, but Eddie is right, we don’t have any paying customers or food to sustain us until we get some. My dear, plenty stays right where it’s at, but hunger moves on.”

But Stella would not be deterred. “There’s plenty of game in the hills and we can shoot our own chuck to keep us going. Unless I’m mistaken, Silver City is less than sixty miles to the south and we can go there for supplies. Say a week there and back with a packhorse.”

She turned on Lorraine and Nellie. “In the meantime we’ll search every store, house and shack in town. I can’t believe that the good citizens of Heartbreak took every scrap of grub with them.”

“There might be rats.” Nellie shuddered. “I’m awful afeerd of rats.”

“I’ll go with you and hold your hand, Nellie,” Lorraine said, grinning. “I won’t let the big, bad rats git you.”

“I declare, Lorraine, you’re such a whore.”

“Then go by yourself.”

“No, you can come with me.”

Stella said with an air of finality, “Right, then it’s settled.” She looked at Rivette, then Oates. “Warren, Eddie, is it settled?”

The gambler shrugged his acceptance and Oates said, “Hell, we’ll give it a try, why not?”

“Pete Pickles is out there someplace and he’s a handful,” Rivette said. “Are we forgetting that?”

“I’ll hunt and take Nantan with me,” Oates said. “She’ll be able to sense Pickles’ presence well before I see him.” He looked at the girl. “Does that set well with you?”

Nantan nodded. “You are my husband. I will go where you wish me to go.”

Rivette grinned at Oates. “Maybe I should have stayed away from the fancy ladies on the riverboats and married an Indian girl.”

“Or maybe you should have married one of those fancy ladies,” Lorraine said archly, “and made an honest woman of her.”

The gambler smiled and gave an elegant little bow. “Touché, dear lady.”

“All right, let’s start a search,” Stella said. “Eddie, bring us back an elk.”

“A real big, fat one,” Rivette said. “And see Nantan keeps you well clear of Pete Pickles.”