ikissdhimbck | Cuero, Texas, 1888 -- OOM for Ben Wade (part 3)

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Cuero, Texas, 1888 -- OOM for Ben Wade (part 3)

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Once the details are ironed out and their aliases are firmly in place, Reverend and Mrs. Evans ride for Cuero looking as much the part as they could manage. Ben even has himself outfitted with a makeshift clerical collar.

(Kate can't look at him without laughing. 'Perhaps,' she suggested, 'you can use it as a Bible bookmark when we're through, Ben.')

It's a half a day's ride from their campsite to the outskirts of town, so it's already late afternoon, pushing for evening, when they finally arrive. Cuero is right off the river, good dirt roads and two free iron bridges crossing the river a coup for the community. The San Antonio and Aransas Pass Railway, connecting Cuero to Houston, is visible from the ride in, and once they make it onto the main drag it's obvious that the trade town is, indeed, prospering (with more than two and a half thousand residents). Otto Buchel's bank is a prominent storefront, near J. R. Nagel's hardware, and H. Runge and Company (a branch of Henry Runge's Indianola-based store and bank). There's an opera house, two large schools, a fire department, and a hotel, as well as at least six different churches (which has Kate smirking, and teasing Ben about him better knowing his stuff before starting any conversations he can't finish). And, farther from the main street, are the factories Kate had heard about: a railroad machine shop, and a $50,000 steam-powered cotton textile factory with sixteen looms.

Suddenly, all of Kate's worries about being recognized while in town fade to background noise. If she can't blend in, in a place like this, then she deserves to be caught.

.

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"Wouldn't expect anything less from you," he says with a slight nod.

"But you can't believe everything written in those damn things -- more'n half the time, the facts're -- "

"Afternoon, reverend," a small boy, no more than six or seven years old, pipes up as they walk past. "Missus Reverend."

Ben returns the greeting in kind, then turns his attention back to Kate.

"Wrong."

Kate blinks at the salutation -- Missus Reverend? -- eyes following the boy as they pass each other, until she has to crane her neck to see.

'Good morning, Miss Katherine!'

She quietly returns the greeting, eyes slipping back to Ben's face.

Beat.

She looks absolutely amused.

"I'll keep that in mind," she cedes, restraining her grin.

"If you've read that one, then you know they wrote about how I dynamited a wagon full of Southern Pacific prospectors one spring."

The light in his eyes briefly shifts into something cold and distant.

"It was a whole train full of 'em. You can't trust the paper those things're printed on."

She quirks an eyebrow, but doesn't laugh.

(Even though she wants to.)

"And you wonder why I question your ability to play by my rules," she deadpans. "Y'know, usually them books embellish the number of people you've killed."

'I killed half the men the Kid got credited for.'

Her expression turns more serious.

"But I'd believe it."

When they get to an appropriate place to cross the street, she glances up at him and asks:

"You wanna get somethin' t'eat, or should we go see 'bout settin' us up a line of credit in one of these fine establishments here in town?"

"Let's get somethin' to eat -- banks ain't open for much longer, anyhow."

And Ben wants to ask a few locals their opinions of the security to be had at both banks.

His lips quirk into a half-smile.

"We'll see to our finances first thing in the mornin'."

She sees that half-smile, and matches it with one of her own.

"Yes, dear."

She waits for him to step down into the street and help her off the boardwalk, boots meeting the earth in a small plume of dust before they head across the broad way and up the steps to the little restaurant across the way.

It's fairly clean inside, walls of horsehair plaster and fine mahogany trim. There's a table in the corner, by the window, that looks appealing to Kate. She gestures to it, and peers up to see if Ben approves.

He nods once, sweeping an arm toward the unoccupied table.

"After you, Miss Evans."

With a nod toward the two members of the wait-staff standing near the bar on the far side of the room, he steps behind Kate to pull out her chair.

The waitstaff was momentarily distracted by how the pretty little blond walked with such an ungraceful gait to the seat Ben held out for her. But when he nodded in their direction, they both hopped to.

A middle-aged woman with mousy brown hair comes over with a pitcher of water, followed by a younger looking man with jet black curls.

"You folks thirsty?" she asks with a thick German accent.

"Water 'n tea'll do just fine, as long as they're wet," Ben says. "And maybe some sugar to go with the tea, if you've got it."

The woman nods, and the young man crosses the room to get the tea while the woman fills the empty water glasses on the table.

The woman cuts her eyes to Ben as she fills his glass.

"You are a preacher?"

Her gaze then slides to Kate, and back again.

"You come for vhich church?"

"Yes, ma'am," he says with a nod and another winning smile, "I am."

Half a beat.

"From the First Baptist in Little Rock out in Arkansas, originally."

(It's an answer as safe as houses. He hopes.)

"The wife's in need of a drier climate, so we're just lookin' for a place in need as we get farther west."

Kate coughs, turning her head politely and using her kerchief.

"You have ze consumption?" asks the waitress.

She nods, breathlessly.

"For some years now."

The young man returns then, carting along a full tea service. The woman nods sternly.

"Zen you go see Reverend Covey. He handles ze church for Baptists, down on McClintock."

"Reverend Covey on McClintock," Ben repeats. "We'll be sure 'n do that, ma'am, thank you."

He lets his smile grow as they settle in for tea and dinner.

If the rest of the good citizens of Cuero are even half as helpful, this is going to be some of the easiest reconnaissance he's ever done.

As long as Ben can understand them.

They manage to get meals ordered without too much trouble, however. According to the waitstaff, most of the townsfolk are German.

Well-off Germans, at that. With prosperous factories at the edge of town, and the railroad steaming straight on through, every business owner seems to have a little money.

The laborers and hired hands, on the other hand, somehow find themselves struggling a little more than the rest.

"You seem to do a fair amount of business," Kate comments after supper, as she sips at her tea and regards the waitress -- Viktoria. "Most've your tables are full."

"Jå," she shrugs. "Vut Mr. Schleicher, the railroad man? He does best business. He and Runge and Buchel? They are good friends. The rest of us? We struggle."

Kate nods, cutting her gaze to Ben.

He suppresses a predatory grin.

Schleicher.

It's a name he'll be sure to remember, even higher on his list than Covey on McClintock.

He takes a swallow of tea and lifts his eyes to Viktoria.

"Are they God-fearin' men? They worship every Sunday?"

Viktoria smiles crookedly.

"Jå, but they go to ze Lutheran church. I do not think zey'll be converting, reverend."

Kate suppresses a chuckle by having a quiet coughing fit off to the side.

Edited 2009-12-09 05:30 (UTC)

"Well, now, that's all right, as long as they're attendin'. We're all equal in the eyes of the Lord, even Lutherans and Baptists."

"Behave yourself, husband," says Kate cheerily.

Viktoria, on the other hand, laughs.

"This is good," she says. "You, I like. Your bill we can settle after you have some torte."

She turns and hollers to the younger man in German, leaving 'Prudence' and 'Reverend Tucker' to their tea.

Ben smothers the majority of his satisfaction as he lifts his teacup.

"See, like I keep tryin' to tell you, people do like me."

"Sure they do, reverend," Kate fires back, eying him over the lip of her teacup.

After the 'torte' had been eaten and their bill paid, the reverend and his wife took their leave of the fine establishment, promising to return for breakfast the next day. After their conversation with Viktoria, there was a lot more to look into and discuss -- but that would have to wait until they were behind closed doors, someplace a lot more private.

As Ben opens the front door for her, Kate steps through and finds that her feet land, not on a hollow boardwalk, but on the clean hardwood floors of a bar. A bar at the end of the universe, to be exact.

"Ben, I'll be right back," she murmurs, seemingly disappearing into thin air.

Ben steps outside --

And blinks.

"All right," he says to no one in particular.

She doesn't leave him there long, at least.

Almost as soon as the door clicks behind him, it opens again, and Kate steps out onto the boardwalk by his side. She looks pensive, though she puts on a polite smile and extends her arm for him to take it, once the door shuts behind her.

"Sorry. Miss Bar had some news for me."

He takes her arm and glances down.

"The good kind or the bad?"

She watches the path ahead for a quiet moment, so as not to lose her footing.

"A lil' of both."

She sighs softly, absently patting his hand.

"I'll tell you all about it when we get back to the hotel. Seems there's a social event this Friday we might have t'make a special trip back for."

He nods and doesn't push; they'll be back at the hotel soon enough, anyway.

"You'll be happy to know my calendar's free and clear, Prudie."

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ikissdhimbck - 2009-12-09 07:47 (UTC) - Expand

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