for a wife.”
“I’ll give ’em a go,” Maggie said, hoping to curry
extra favor.
“Me, too,” Sweetwater Sue said.
“If she does, I will, too,” Narcissa said, reluctant
to let her darling Sue out of her sight.
“Okay, then.”
Ellis walked back to the men.
“Done deal, but I want to have that wheel put on
first.”
The three dismounted and set about lifting the
wagon and attaching the wheel and had the job ac-
complished in under half an hour. The work caused
them to sweat through their dusty shirts and their
hands were greasy and their faces, too. They wiped
off best as possible with their kerchiefs, then stood
waiting. Ellis called the girls over. They approached
like debutantes.
Zeb looked them over, then said, “What about that
black child yonder,” indicating Black Mary.
“I get extra for her.”
“Hell you say.”
Ellis could see putting up a fuss would only lead to
trouble he wasn’t prepared for. He called Black Mary
over. She was something over six feet tall, taller than
any one of the Stone brothers and Zeb had his mind
all over her because of it. Zack chose Sue and Zane
chose Narcissa, whom the others called China Doll.
Nobody chose Maggie; she figured it was because she
was older than the others and it didn’t make her feel
good to think that three dirty-shirt cowboys wouldn’t
choose her for a quick go in the grass even though it
wasn’t something she would have favored, given the
choice.
Ellis Kansas walked back to the wagon with Mag-
gie while the brothers walked off a distance with the
girls. Baby Doe sang to herself, alone and fearless in
her doped state of mind.
Maggie said, “I’d like you to consider making me
house madam.”
Ellis had been thinking it was a poor way to begin
his new venture, having to trade favors for a wheel
fixing.
He looked at her. She had a small scar there at the
corner of one eye, and her skin wasn’t the best, and he
could see in her pale green eyes a sort of weariness.
He could easily see she was clinging to the last threads
of her youth, and therefore her future, for men were
always wont to prize youth and beauty in a woman,
and those of Maggie’s years and worn looks weren’t
in as high demand—except by the loneliest of men
who prized them the same way they would a work an-
imal, someone to wash and clean, plow and plant—an
extra hand, only cheaper, something to lay with at
night and have cook for them in the morning.
“I’ll consider it.” He felt a bit sorry for her, but
knew, too, that life could be difficult once a man let a
woman into his business.
“What will it take to convince you?” she said.
“You know I’ll do anything for you, Ellis.”
“I don’t mix my business with pleasure, Maggie.
And if there’s something I want from you, I guess all
I’d need to do is ask.”
Baby Doe did not join the conversation, for she did
not care one way or the other about very much in life.
She’d been raised by a family of privilege—Bostonian
Brahmins—and was never required to have opinions
or make decisions beyond which steamed vegetables
she might want to eat for supper. Hence she was eas-
ily swayed to this or that by others of a stronger
mind, such as eventually arrived in the form of a
young man from an equally wealthy family. He
talked her into running away with him to the West.
This she did, more out of boredom than from any true
sense of adventure. The young man abandoned her in
Denver where she was ultimately taken in by an
equally persuasive and handsome pimp named
Solomon Lang who lost her in a card game to the
owner of a house of prostitution, where, among other
vices, she became addicted to cocaine and opium. She
was only seventeen, still a sweet but beguiled child
who was happy with making shapes out of the clouds
that passed overhead as she fed upon the little white
tablets she kept in a purple velvet reticule decorated
with fine silver threads.
“I’m a fair man,” Ellis said to Maggie, “and I’ll
give your suggestion full consideration.”
“You know I would appreciate it, Ellis.”
He looked at her and said, “Dear child, it is un-
seemly to go begging.”
The look on her face told him how much she’d
been depending on him to promote her. Now he was
half sorry he’d chosen her in the first place. She had
maybe a year or two left in her before he’d have to go
cut rate on her price. He toted in his head the cost of
keeping her clothed and fed in comparison to how
much she might be able to earn down the line.
“I’m not a hard man, mind you,” he said in order
to lift her spirits just a bit. “But I am a sound busi-
