go up and knock on the door?'
The boy frowned, watching his father climb the stairs and move along the balcony. He was walking funny, like his feet hurt. Maybe she won't be there, the boy thought hopefully. Maybe she changed her mind. No, she'll be there. He pictured her coming down the stairs, then smiling and patting his cheek and saying, 'So this is Jimmy. ' A smile that would be gone and suddenly come back again. 'My, but Jimmy is a fine-looking young man. How old are you, Jimmy?' She'll be fat and smelly like Mrs. Granby and those other ladies down on Yeso Creek. How come all women get so fat? All except Ma. She wasn't fat and she smelled nice and she never called me Jimmy. He felt a funny feeling remembering his mother, the sound of her voice and the easy way she did things without complaining or getting excited. What did Molly have to have a mother for? She's gotten along for a year without one. He saw the door open, but caught only a glimpse of the woman. His father went inside then, but the door remained open. The room clerk grinned and winked at the boy.
'Now, if that was me, I think I'd close the door.'
A moment later they came out of the room. The boy watched his father close the door and follow the woman along the balcony to the stairs and then down. The woman was younger than he'd imagined her, much younger, with a funny hat and blond hair fixed in a bun. And she wasn't fat; if anything, skinny. Her face was slender, the skin pale-clear and her eyes seemed sad. The boy looked at her until she got close.
'This here is my son,' Will Calender said. 'We left Molly at the Granbys'. She's only four years old'--he smiled self-consciously--'like I told you in the letters.'
The woman smiled back at him. She seemed ill at ease but she said, 'How do you do?' to the boy, and her voice was calm and without the false enthusiasm of Will Calender's. The boy said, 'Ma'am,' not looking at her face now but noticing her slender white hands holding the ends of the crocheted shawl in front of her. A silence followed, and Will Calender suggested that they could get something to eat. He had intended mentioning Maddox's name up in the room then watch her reaction, but there hadn't been time. She didn't look like the kind Maddox hinted she was, did she? Maybe Maddox was just talking. She was better-looking than he'd expected. Those eyes and that low, calm voice. Dick Maddox better watch his mouth.
They went to the cafe next door for breakfast. Calender and the boy ordered eggs and meat, but Clare Conway just took coffee, because she wasn't very hungry. Most of the time they ate in silence. Every now and then Will Calender could hear himself chewing and he'd move his fork on the plate or stir at his coffee with the spoon scraping the bottom of the cup. Clare said the coffee was very good. And, maybe a minute later: It's going to be a nice day. It's so dry out here you can stand the extra heat. Then it was Will's turn. Where you from originally? . . . New Orleans. . . . I never been there but I hear it's a nice town. . . . It's all right. . . . Silence. . . . How long'd you live in Tascosa? . . . Five years. My husband was with one of the cattle companies. . . . Oh. . . . He died three years ago. . . . Silence. . . . That's right, you told me in your letter. . . . That's right, I did. . . . Silence. . . . What've you been doing since then? . . . I took a position. . . . Calender's jaw was set. . . . At the Casa Grande? . . . Clare Conway blushed suddenly. She nodded and took a sip of coffee in the silence. There were two men at a table near them and Will Calender had the feeling one nudged the other, and they both grinned, looking over, then looked away quickly when Calender shot a glance toward them. Calender passed the back of his hand across his mouth and cleared his throat. 'Miss Conway, I planned on ordering some stores this morning, long as I was here. They're hauled down to Puerto de Luna, and I pick 'em up there. Some seed and flour'--he cleared his throat again--'and I have to speak to the justice yet.' He looked quickly toward the front window, though it wasn't necessary because Clare's eyes were on her coffee cup.
'Jim, here, will stay with you.' The boy looked at him with a plea in his eyes, and Will scowled. Then he rose and walked out without looking at the woman.
Standing in front of the hotel, Dick Maddox looked over toward the cafe as Calender came out, putting on his hat. Maddox glanced at the three men with him, and they grinned as he looked back toward Calender, who was coming toward them now.
'You married yet, Will?'
Calender glanced at Maddox's closed face, at the beard bristles and the cigarette and the eyes in the shadow of the hat brim. 'Not yet,' he said, and looked straight ahead again, not slowing his stride. Maddox waited until he was looking at Calender's back. He drew on the cigarette and exhaled and said slowly, 'Some men will marry just about anything.'
Calender's boots sounded on the planking one, two, three, then stopped. He came around. 'Do you mean me, Dick?'
A smile touched the corner of Dick Maddox's mouth. 'Old man Granby used to have a saying: If the shoe fits, wear it.'
'You can talk plainer than that.' 'How plain, Will?'
'Talk like a man for a change.'
'Well, as a man, I'm wondering if you're going to go ahead and marry this-- Miss Conway.' One of the men behind him laughed but cut it off.
'What if I am?'
Maddox shrugged. 'Every man to his own taste.'
Calender stepped closer to him. 'Dick, if I was married to that woman and you said what you have--you'd be dead right now.'
'That's opinion, Will.' Maddox smiled because he was sure he could take Will Calender and he wanted to make sure the three men with him knew it. Calender said, 'The point is, I'm not married to her yet. Not yet. If you don't come out with what's on your mind now, you better not come out with it about two hours from now.'
Maddox shook his head. 'You're a warnin' man, Will.'
'What did she do in Tascosa?' Calender said bluntly.
Maddox hesitated, grinning. 'Worked at the Casa Grande.'
'And that's what?'
'You never been to Tascosa?'
'I just never saw the place.'
'Well, the Casa Grande's where a sweaty trail hand goes for his drink, gamblin', and girls.' Maddox paused. 'I could draw you a picture, Will.'
'Dick, if you're pullin' a joke--'
'Ask anybody in town.'
Calender looked at the hat-brim shadow and the eyes, the eyes that held without wavering. Then he turned and went up the street.
From his office window, Hillpiper, the Anton Chico Justice of the Peace, watched Will Calender cross the street. The office was above the jail and offered a view of sun, dust, and adobe; there was nothing else to see in Anton Chico, unless you were looking down the streets east, then you'd see the Pecos.
Hillpiper sat down at his desk, hearing the boots on the stairs, and when the knock came he said, 'Come in, Will.'
'How'd you know it was me?'
'Sit down.' Hillpiper smiled. 'You had an appointment for this morning, and I've got a window.' Hillpiper wore silver-rim spectacles for close work, but he looked over them to Calender sitting across the desk from him.
Calender said, 'You know what everybody in town's saying?'
Hillpiper shook his head. 'Not everybody.' 'They're talking about this woman I'm to marry.'
'I'll say it again. Not everybody.'
Calender's raw-boned face was tightening, and his voice was louder. 'How can they know so much about her--and me, the man that's to marry her, not know anything?'
'It's happened before,' Hillpiper said.
'You heard what they're saying?'
'I heard Maddox in the saloon last night. Is he the everybody you're talking about?'
'He's enough. But it's what she is!' Calender said savagely. 'What she didn't tell in her letters!'
'Three letters,' Hillpiper said mildly. Calender had told him about it when the arrangements and set the date: the marriage broker in Santa Fe writing to him, then writing to the woman. Hillpiper had told him it was all right as far as he was concerned, since he didn't see why two people had to love each other to get along. Love's something
