The Saloon Girl

Chapter 1 

“Bring him home, Hoss.  Just bring him home.”

I always obeyed my father, but this time was different.  This time, my little brother didn’t want to come home.  He didn’t want to be part of the family no more, and he wasn’t about to listen to me.  I don’t know what Pa expected, but trying to talk sense to that boy was never easy.  He’d made up his mind that living elsewhere was better than living at home, where one of us might try to reason with him.

He’d gotten hisself in a bad way.  Pa didn’t know the extent of Joe’s drinking, but me and Adam knew how low he’d drifted from the Joe he’d been a couple of months ago.  He’d gone through a good part of his savings, not that he was a rich kid, but he hadn’t collected any pay for over eight weeks, and he wasn’t that good at cards, so his drinking money had to come from all those years of saving little bits he stashed in the bank for a rainy day.  Guess if you asked Joe, he’d say them rainy days were here.

After saddling Chubb, I took my time riding into town.  I wasn’t in no hurry to find my little brother and have another dismal confrontation.  I’d done that before.   Adam, too, but nothing changed Joe’s mind.  He was dead set on making everyone miserable.  Doc called it melancholy.  I didn’t know much about it, but Pa did.  Fact is, he’d been through bouts of melancholy three times, but it didn’t ruin his life like it was ruining Joe’s.

It wasn’t ten minutes into my ride when snow began to fall.  It was that time of year, and I should’ve expected weather like this, but it made life just that much harder.  Plowing through a winter storm with a drunken brother falling out of his saddle wasn’t my idea of fun, but Pa wanted Joe home for Christmas.

Instead of tying Chubby in front of a saloon, I walked him down to the livery.  No sense in making his life miserable, too.  It looked like Miquel had stepped outside for a smoke or a quick shot from the flask he kept in his hip pocket, so I took it upon myself to stable my mount.  As I loosened his cinch, I realized I’d taken the last free stall.  Guess everyone had the same idea as me.  Cochise stood not ten feet away.  When I finished with Chubb, I gave Joe’s horse a quick pat on the rump and found myself talking to him, just like my young brother.  “Keep munchin’ on that hay, Boy.  We’ll be riding home soon.” 

When I opened the barn door, Miguel scurried inside.  “Cold out there, Hoss.”

“Yep.  Sure is.”

“You stable your horse?”

“I did.”

“Sorry, Hoss.  I just stepped out for a minute.”

I reached across the stall and patted Miguel on the shoulder.  “No problem.”

“You here to find Joe?”

“Yeah.  Pa’s had enough.  Wants the kid home.”  I didn’t usually spill our family problems but for some reason, I told Miguel about my mission.

“You’ll find him at the Lonesome Lady.  He’s sort of made that place his new home.”

“That’s not one of his usual hangouts.  How’d you know I’d find him there?”

“Cartwright’s is everyone’s business, Hoss.  You should know that.”

I dropped my head.  “Yeah.  Thanks, Buddy.”

I raised the collar of my coat and ventured outside the livery.  The Lonesome Lady was a regular haunt for derelicts and longtime drunkards who’d slipped through the cracks of society.  They often found solace in the seedier part of town.  How did Little Joe come to think of hisself that way?  I must’ve passed eight or ten ragtag saloons before I found the right one.  It wasn’t any better looking than the rest.  I even hesitated before I went inside.  

Lanterns were turned low.  Smoke filled the room, layer upon layer of a gray/blue haze drifted from one wall to the other.  No one bothered to mop the floors or wipe down the tables.  It wasn’t that kind of place.

Miguel was right.  My little brother was perched at a table in the rear corner.  A bottle of rotgut sat in front of him, and he’d propped his left foot on a chair.  He’d pulled his hat low and didn’t see me walk in.  When I kicked his boot off the chair, the kid came alive.

“Whadda you want?”

“Mind if I sit?”

Joe kicked an empty chair out from under the table.  “Be my guest, Brother.”

I took a seat and watched Joe pour another shot.  He didn’t offer me a drink, but a cute little gal brought two small glasses and set herself down at the table.  “You gonna introduce us, Little Joe?”

“Belinda Mae.  Meet my brother, Hoss.  He’s come to drag me home.  Ain’t that right, Brother?”

I tipped my hat to the young lady.  Taking a second look, I wondered how she ended up in a disgusting place like the Lonesome Lady.  She was a pretty girl.  Her sandy-blonde hair and fair complexion set her apart from some of the harder-looking women a man tends to find in a dive like this. 

If I’d seen her dressed in everyday clothes and walking down the boardwalk with a pile of packages, I would’ve been the first to offer her a hand.  Not that I wouldn’t help a saloon girl, but a pretty gal always grabs a man’s attention.  I wondered what caused her to walk inside a saloon and whore herself out to any man that paid enough to take her upstairs.    

The atmosphere at the Lonesome Lady felt dingy and gray, the last stop for any man who had the nerve to sit down and take that first drink.  How had Joe sunk so low?  All my life, I saved wounded animals or simple-minded beasts that felt poorly, but this was different.  Joe didn’t want to be rescued.  He wanted to be left alone.  Men like him had lost hope.  They’d also lost the sense of pride that keeps a man honest and true.  In this part of town, a man could hide from the rest of the world and drown his sorrows in pint after pint of rotgut.

While I drifted into another world, Miss Belinda Mae poured us each a drink from Joe’s half-empty bottle.  I wondered if they’d become confidants.  I wondered if Joe told her why he’d left home.  I wondered if they’d been together upstairs, but none of that mattered.  It was silly to dwell.  I’d come to town to collect my little brother and bring him home for Christmas.  That’s the job I’d been sent to do and nothing more.

Chapter 2

As we meandered over snow-covered trails, the blizzard clouded my vision, and we nearly missed the cabin.  Blowing in from the north, the wind would cover our tracks in no time.  If anyone came looking, they’d have nothing to go on, nothing that said we’d passed this way or that we might be in trouble.

The sun seemed brighter and the sky less blue.  A pristine gleam of splendor covered our world after two feet of snow fell in record time.  The old-timers would have their stories modernized by the first day of the new year, but that wasn’t something I had time to think about. Joe was my main concern.

I brought my young brother to the most eastern Ponderosa line shack.  He balked and carried on, but in the end, I won out, set him on his horse, and we plodded through the beginnings of a storm. Perhaps it was foolish on my part.  In fact, I know better than to start out when snow is pouring down like rain.  We never should’ve left town.  I know that now, but we needed to make the best of a bad situation.

Joe and I weren’t the only ones who plowed through knee-deep snow.  He agreed to leave the saloon, but not unless Miss Belinda Mae tagged along with us.  I thought he was out of his dang mind bringing his lady friend out in a blizzard, but it seemed he wasn’t gonna leave without her.

“Have another drink, Boys.  I need ten minutes to pack.”

I sat back in my chair in the godawful saloon and stared at Little Joe.  Bringing a lady home for Christmas was one thing, but I wasn’t sure if Miss Belinda Mae would fit in with the rest of the crowd Pa invited to our annual holiday festivities.  I shouldn’t think that way, but sometimes I couldn’t help but realize the obvious.  Nothing about this situation was good.

When the lady bounded down the stairs, she was dressed in dungarees, a flannel shirt, a heavy coat, and a wide-brimmed hat.  She carried a well-used carpetbag.  If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought she was a miner or a bronc-buster, not a low-priced saloon girl.

“Ready, Boys?”  She glanced at the barkeep and smiled.  “Thanks for all the good times, Eddie, but I’m outta here!”

That was early this morning.  Now we were pulled up at the line shack and in a hurry to get out of the cold.  “You get inside, Miss Belinda Mae.  I’ll take care of the horses.” 

“Thanks, Hoss.  I’m frozen clear through.”

“Why don’t you grab some wood and start a fire, Joseph?”

“I ain’t stupid.  I know what needs to be done.”

Joe’s mood had soured.  You’d thought I asked for the moon and stars, not just an armful of wood.  I shrugged him off.  No sense in starting a fight.  We were all cold and tired.  Maybe Joe was colder and more tired than the lady and I.  By the time I finished with the horses, Joe headed up the hill with enough kindling to start three fires.

“We might have to bring these fellers inside with us tonight.  It’s gonna be dang cold out here.”

“Do what you have to do, Hoss.  I’ll get the fire started.”

“Thanks, Little Brother.”

I could tell by the way he walked that his muscles were stiff.  I suppose day after day of drinking Eddie’s watered-down rotgut did that to a man.  It must’ve been hard for Joe to sit like that.  It wasn’t his nature.  Joe was a ranch hand, a bronc buster, and a cowpuncher, but as young as he was, it only took a few weeks to turn him into an old man.  His hands shook, and he was far from walking a straight line.  He didn’t think I noticed, but my eyes were glued to every move he made since we left the saloon.  The continuous drinking really did a job on my brother.  He didn’t have a clue how much the whiskey affected his well-being.     

Even though we should’ve talked, I’d let him off the hook till tomorrow.  What he needed most was a lot of black coffee and a good night’s sleep.  He wouldn’t be cured overnight, but he might be more coherent tomorrow.  Pa would be expecting us, but I couldn’t risk riding any farther in the storm.  Maybe he’d figure we’d hold up in town, which is what we should’ve done.

Chapter 3

By morning, the snow had piled a lot deeper.  No way could we travel the next nine or ten miles to the house.  We kept the shack warm, even brought the horses inside for the night.  With the wind blowing hard enough to rattle the only window, our mounts were better off with us than braving the cold of night.

I doubt Joe could sit a horse anyway.  He was in worse shape than I thought.  His stomach gave him fits, and he held his head with both hands.  The kid was too sick to carry on a conversation with anyone in the room.  Explaining things to me was way down on his list of priorities.  Still, I tried.

“Leave me alone!”  

He’d said that more than once, but this time it was said in anger.  All that business with Stuart would have to come later.  Nothing had been the same since the shooting, and Joe was taking his friend’s death mighty hard.  That’s why he left home and moved to town, and that’s why he’d been hitting the bottle so hard.

Every time I broached the subject … “Don’t you get it, Hoss?  I don’t want to talk about it.”

The same reply had been Joe’s answer when one of us brought up the shooting.  In a huff, he’d stomp upstairs to his room, but that didn’t mean we stopped asking him about that night in the saloon.  Not every bar fight ends in the death of a best friend, but that’s what happened to Joe.  

He and Stu had been pals off and on for over ten years.  They’d had boyhood riffs but always seemed to forgive and forget.  Within a week, they’d be racing their mounts across the open prairie, swimming in Miller’s Pond, or fishing on Saturday afternoons when their chores were done.

I remember one day when Joe and Stu’s fishing trip ended with two sick fourteen-year-old boys.  Sneaking his father’s cheroots and a flask of whiskey, Stuart had grand plans for himself and his friend.  That was the day they would become adults.  But that ain’t what happened.  

I don’t know about Stu, but Joe lay in bed for the rest of the weekend.  He finally had to fess up and tell Pa what he’d done, but Pa let Joe off the hook that time.  Although he wasn’t too old for a tanning, Pa thought the boys had been through enough.  Even though me and Adam had a good laugh at Joe’s expense, we never let on that we’d done the same thing at his age.  He and Stu found out that weekend that smokin’ and drinkin’ didn’t make men out of fourteen-year-old boys.  

Joe was restless.  I was, too, although I could sit through bouts of boredom, but Joe was a different sort.  That boy was always on the move, so sitting still didn’t work well for him.  He was more jittery than usual.  Must’ve been the lack of whiskey.  I’d seen the violence in men when their bottles went dry.  Joe wasn’t violent, and I didn’t think he’d get that way, but I wouldn’t leave his side for some time yet.  Maybe irritable was the best word.  Restless and irritable.  Was he mad at himself, or was he mad at me and Pa and Adam for making his life miserable?  At least, that’s what he thought.  We were the bad guys.  We asked too many questions.

My father could forgive Joe’s outbursts.  For me and Adam, it was harder to hear him speak to Pa as he did.  His attacks on the family were hard to let go of.

“You weren’t there, Pa.  You don’t know what happened inside that saloon.  I won’t stay and listen to every platitude you have up your sleeve.”

“I’m not spouting platitudes, Joseph.   It’s been over a month, and I want to know why you’re still so upset.”

“I’m not upset, okay?  I just don’t want to talk about it.  It happened, and it’s over, and you need to stop interfering in my business.  Stuart is dead.  Can’t you leave it alone?”

“No, Son.  I’m your father, and the last thing I can do is leave it alone.”

“Fine, but don’t expect me to stick around and listen.  I’m done talking.” 

That was the final straw for Joseph.  He packed his saddlebags and walked out of the house that night.  He’d been gone ever since, but Pa’d had enough.  You might say he was done, too.  He wanted Joe home, and he picked me to do his bidding.  End of story.

There wasn’t much food in the shack, not that Joe could’ve eaten more than a morsel in his condition, but the lady and I could’ve used a bite.  I could try looking for game, but between Joe and the snow—that was two strikes against me, and I didn’t want to take unnecessary chances if I could avoid them.

I always kept coffee and beans in my saddlebags, but I never planned on cooking for three, so we’d be eating light, and that would only get us through one day.  If the snow didn’t let up and we were stuck here for who knows how long, I wasn’t sure what my plan would be.  I wouldn’t worry about that now, though.  I would put the beans to soak and start a pot of coffee.  That’s the best I could do.

As I turned to dig through my saddlebags, a flash of Joe caught the corner of my eye as he ran out the only door of the cabin.  I jumped to my feet and followed close behind.  The boy’s right hand was pressed against the nearest tree, and he was bent in half.  Dry heaves had his body convulsing, and when his legs gave out, I was right there to hold his weight and carry him back inside.  Miss Belinda sat beside Joe and cooled his face with the flour sack I’d used to carry the beans. After soaking the soft cloth in a cooking tin filled with melting snow, she proceeded to nurse my little brother back to health.

Again, I wondered about their relationship.  I figured they were friends, but how far did that friendship go?  Again, I put those thoughts on the back burner.  Time would tell.  Besides, my little brother was getting worse.  I thought today would be better, but I messed up there, too.  If we’d stayed in town, I could’ve had Doc look him over.  Maybe nothing could be done, but at least I’d be sure he was okay.

“Think you can handle him alone, Miss Belinda Mae?”

“Sure, I can, Hoss.  Why’d you ask?” 

“Thought I might see if there’s some game close by.”

“I ain’t going nowhere if that’s what you’re askin’.  Joe’ll be just fine with me.  You go on now.”

“I’ll be back shortly.”

If anything, I think the doc would insist the kid had some broth.  Even if I only found a rabbit or squirrel, that would give the girl and me a bite or two and some good, fatty soup for Joe.

Chapter 4

By the end of the second day, I realized Joe needed more help than I could give.  Miss Belinda was as calm and serene as a summer sky and took good care of my brother, but I had a feeling this wasn’t the first man she’d nursed back from the drink.  Since she knew more than I did about this sort of thing, I let her handle Joe while I searched for food.

As I stood outside the cabin, I took in a deep breath and thought about Pa and Adam.  I could almost hear Hop Sing ranting about family not being home for Christmas.  Today was Christmas Day, and there was no way we were leaving the shack with snow up to our knees.  Little Joe couldn’t sit a horse if someone paid him a thousand dollars.  As much as he liked having a wad of cash in his pocket, no amount of money could pull him off that narrow cot and plop him on top of Cochise.

I hefted my rifle over my left shoulder and moved forward through knee-high drifts.  Miss Belinda said she’d melted enough snow that Joe would have something to drink, and that I was to go about my business and not worry about the two of them.  I took her word.  We could all use something to eat, and I’d make that my only job today.  

When I heard a distinctive sound, my legs moved faster down the slope.  Since I didn’t want to land on my butt, I still used caution, but when the gobble-gobble came again, I smiled.  Despite our circumstances, we’d have a superb Christmas dinner, and maybe that would bring Joe out of his funk.  I couldn’t help but think that something familiar might do the trick.

He was a plump one.  I couldn’t have done better if I’d raised him myself.  I took the shot.  After flinging him over my shoulder, I marched back up the hill toward the cabin.  I couldn’t wait to show off my prize.

When I reached the top of the hill, I glanced toward the cabin and saw an incredible sight.  I’d been so preoccupied with finding a decent meal that I never heard the jingling bells our winter sleigh made.  When I could see things more clearly, I found little Miss Belinda Mae was pointing Joe’s gun at my father and brother. 

“Don’t shoot!”  I dropped the bird and raced forward.  “No, Miss Belinda!  Lower the weapon.  No need for that pistol.”

“What the hell’s going on out here?”  Joe staggered to the door.  We’d removed his boots, so he’d be more comfortable while he got off the drink, but I didn’t plan on him marching outside in the snow.  “Pa?”

“I’m right here, Son.  If the lady lowers your gun, your brothers and I will come inside.

“It’s okay, Belinda.  You always wanted to meet my family.”

Chapter 5

I let Adam pluck the wild turkey while I built a teepee-like structure to hang the big boy to cook.  Joseph began to perk up after Pa took charge of his well-being.  Not that Miss Belinda hadn’t done a great job, but … it’s just how it is between father and son.

Though Joe wasn’t his lively self, he’d turned a corner in his recovery.  Adam set a sack with beans and bacon on the table.  He’d even brought a fresh loaf of bread just in case.  Well, me and Joe and the lady’s situation was the “just in case” they had in mind, and we were all grateful.  None of us knew how long it took a turkey to cook this way, but the smell of fresh-roasted bird made our mouths water something fierce.  

It had taken Pa and Adam half a day to reach the cabin in our sleigh, so we wouldn’t be leaving until sunup tomorrow.  Miss Belinda and Joe would take the two cots.  The rest of us would sleep on the floor.  With the extra pillows and quilts Pa brought, we wouldn’t be too bad off.  

After Miss Belinda scrounged around the shack and found a checkerboard and most of the checkers, she and Adam sat down for a game.  The turkey still hung over the fire, but it was slow going.  I didn’t have any seasoning.  It wouldn’t taste like Hop Sing’s, but I believed we could do it justice anyway.

Joe and Pa had taken to one of the cots to talk things out.  Pa’s hand rested on his shoulder, but Joe’s head hung low.  I noticed he was mumbling something to Pa, but I wasn’t close enough to make out the words until a sudden outburst caught our attention.  When Joe jumped off the cot and took the stance of a gunfighter, me and Adam and Miss Belinda all looked his way.

“Don’t you understand?  Stu died because of me!  I egged Ellis McMasters on.  I goaded him until he paid attention.  I started the fight.  It wasn’t anyone’s fault but mine.”

“Joseph …”

“No, Pa.  Don’t say anything.  Stuart would still be alive if it weren’t for me.  Ellis cheated my best friend, but it was none of my business.  I should’ve concentrated on my own damn cards and let Stu fight his battles himself.”

“You were his friend, and that’s what friends do.  They help each other.”

“And then the friend dies.  No!  I interfered where I didn’t belong.”

Joe turned away from Pa and realized the checker game was on hold, and the three of us were staring.  Joe had a point.  Maybe he should’ve kept quiet, but we’d never know if the outcome would’ve been different.  It’s something Joe will have to live with, but at least we realize what he’d been struggling with and why he turned to whiskey instead of listening to his family.  I don’t know why we weren’t a comfort to him.  If he’d told us the story two months ago, maybe we could’ve helped him, but he didn’t trust us to have the answers.  He thought a bottle of rotgut would end the pain of Stuart’s death.

Joe sat back down on the cot.  He tugged on his boots and reached for the heavy jacket Pa brought with him.  “I need some air.”  

Moments later, Miss Belinda found her jacket and hat and followed Joe out the door.

“Would someone kindly tell me who the lady is and why she’s here?”

“She’s a friend of Joe’s, Pa.  Before I could pull Joe out of the saloon, she up and quit her job.  Said she was comin’ with us.  Course, he weren’t leaving without her either.”

Pa stood and dug his hands in his pockets.  “And just what are we supposed to do with a saloon girl?”

“Don’t look at me.  Adam’s the smart one in the room.”  My elder brother rolled his eyes and began stacking checkers.  He wanted no part of my shenanigans.

“This is a heck of a time to have to take some gal back to Virginia City.  Do you have any idea how deep the snow is?”

Of course, I knew, but I didn’t feel an answer was necessary.  “No one said she wanted to go back.  I think she’s movin’ on.”

“Movin’ on where?  The Ponderosa?”

“It ain’t me you should be asking.  Joe knows more’n I do.”

“Then I’ll ask him.”  

When Pa started to rise off the cot, I reached for his arm.  “You ain’t gonna ask him now, are you?”

“That was my plan.”

“Let him finish up with Miss Belinda first, okay?  Maybe she’s tellin’ him her plans right now.”

Pa was in no mood for tomfoolery.  If you couldn’t see the frustration in his eyes, his stance said he meant business.  Pa’s temper was like a stick of dynamite.  His fuse had been lit, but no one knew its length.  Until I saw him relax and put his anger on hold, I moved to the left and blocked the door. 

When Joe and Belinda Mae came inside, Joe was laughing, and his lady friend was smiling.  We all turned and stared.  None of us had heard him giggle for ages.  The sound was distinctly Joe Cartwright.  Had my little brother rejoined the living?”

Chapter 6

With Pa seated beside him on the sleigh, Adam took the reins.  Joe and Miss Belinda shared the back seat and were covered in a mound of blankets.  Pa’s fuse never ignited the stick of dynamite, and we all began to relax.  The sound of my little brother’s laughter made all the difference.  The tension over all that business with Stuart seemed to be heading for a place in Joe’s past.

We may never know what Miss Belinda said to Joe outside, but she found the right words.  Sometimes the unexpected can do wonders.  Sometimes, just the right word or phrase can turn a man around.  God knows me, and Adam and Pa had tried to find the right words, but it took an outsider to voice her opinion, and Joe listened to what she had to say.  

Maybe the holiday season had something to do with his decision to leave the past behind and start fresh in the new year.  After all, he’d found his way on Christmas Day, and now we were heading home.

As I thought we might, we did justice to the wild bird.  We cleaned that sucker to the bone and wouldn’t have had room for pie if Hop Sing’s had come right out of the oven.  Everyone slept peacefully, no nightmares and unscheduled trips outside.  By morning light, we were ready to plow our way back to the house.  

The trip would be long and slow, but we were all together … plus one.  Miss Belinda Mae, who changed Joe’s world and set him on the right path, was a holiday surprise and a might pretty one at that.  I’ll never know how far they’d taken their relationship, and I’m sure Pa wondered the same.  But no one cared.  

As far as we could tell, the old Joe was back, and that’s all that mattered.  Maybe he’d fill us in one day, maybe not.  It was his business, and I hoped me and Adam and Pa learned something too.  Everyone has their own set of problems.  Some are more personal than others, and maybe we pressed my little brother too hard for answers.

If Hop Sing has Christmas dinner waiting, I’m sure Pa will give thanks not only for Joe’s return but for Miss Belinda Mae, too.  All I know is whether the young lady has plans for her future or not, she’s welcome to stay on the Ponderosa as long as she wants.  I, for one, am glad to know a gal like her.

Merry Christmas

The End  

12-2022