Read Online Stay Away From That City . . . They Call It Cheyenne (Code of the West) by Stephen Bly - Free Book Online

face pale and drawn.
    Pepper brushed back a tear and took Savannah’s hand. “How are you doin'?”
    The lady in black took a deep breath. “I was just telling Pappy we should have taken that trip to California last winter like I said.”
    “I guess you think about all those things you didn’t do.”
    “And all the things we did. Pappy liked to travel. But somehow in every town we would end up at the sheriff’s or marshal’s office to visit old friends. He must have known every lawman and every lawbreaker west of the Mississippi.”
    “Did he know many down in Arizona and New Mexico?” Pepper tried to sound casual.
    “He knew Pat Garret, Stuart Brannon, at least four Earp brothers, and some of those. Why?”
    “Tap used to live in Arizona, and I thought they might have had some mutual friends.”
    “Perhaps they did. Pappy never mentioned it. I certainly hope the council has enough sense to appoint Mr. Andrews acting marshal.”
    “The mayor appointed him temporary acting marshal.”
    “That’s good. I’m sure Pappy would have approved. Is your Tap planning on running for marshal?”
    “He’s talked about it a little. But I’m not sure what he d ecided.”
    “You tell him I think he’s a fine man, but I don’t think he should run for the permanent position.”
    “Why’s that?”
    “For one thing, from what I hear, he’s just too good a gunman. That will attract every derelict with a gun for a tho usand miles. Besides, I’ve been married to the past three marshals in this town, and he’s just not the right type.”
    “Oh?” Pepper strained to look past the veil at Savannah’s eyes. “Just what is the right type?”
    “Unmarried.” Savannah flashed a quick, temporary smile.
    After supper at the crowded hotel dining room, Pepper and S avannah retired to the parlor of Suite G where they entertained a steady stream of visitors expressing sympathy. Everyone from Mrs. William Hale—the territorial governor’s wife—to Mr. and Mrs. J. Slaughter—the superintendent of public instruction and his wife, to Chang Lee and his six sons, to Franklin Moran of the I-X-L, to Rev. and Mrs. Brewster.
    Pepper’s role was to open the door and usher the guests in, then sit in the green velvet arm chair near the window, and watch Sava nnah converse with style, faith, and grace.
    Most discussions were the same. Everyone would me ntion Savannah’s repeated misfortune and their great appreciation for all that Pappy did for the community. Only once did Pepper feel awkward, and that was when Raelynn Royale, owner of the Royale Palace stopped by. Pepper remembered Raelynn as Clara Johnston, a girl she had once worked with in Boise City. Fortunately, peering out through heavy make-up and a mountainous black, curly wig, Raelynn didn’t recognize Pepper.
    One thing everyone agreed upon was that Jerome Hager should receive swift, irrevocable justice. It was well after 10:00 p.m. before the last guest departed and the ladies prepared for bed.
    “Pepper, honey, you’ve got to give Mr. Andrews a big hug of thanks for allowing you to stay with me awhile. Nights are going to be the most difficult part, you know. Over and over and over I will be waking up thinking that I hear Pappy co ming in. I’ll hear him call my name. I’ll smell his clothes or his lotion . . . and I’ll convince myself he’s still here. I guess having gone through it before helps me know that somehow I will survive. The Lord is always sufficient in that way. But it also means I know exactly how painful the process will be.”
    “Savannah, you’re so strong. I can’t believe how well you handled all the callers.”
    “Strong? Honey, I’m just going through the motions by habit. I’ve done it all before. Right now I think I’d like to have a cup of tea, a real good cry, and then stare at a dark ceiling for a few hours.”
    Combs tucked in place Savannah’s jet-black, meticulous hair. The posture was perfect. Her smile was a permanent