Katherine "Kissin' Kate" Barlow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ikissdhimbck) wrote2009-11-29 09:57 pm
ikissdhimbck) wrote2009-11-29 09:57 pm
Entry tags:
Cuero, Texas, 1888 -- OOM for Ben Wade (part 3)
[following this:]
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.
.
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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"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."
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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.
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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.
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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?"
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"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.
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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.
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"See, like I keep tryin' to tell you, people do like me."
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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.
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And blinks.
"All right," he says to no one in particular.
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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."
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"The good kind or the bad?"
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"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."
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"You'll be happy to know my calendar's free and clear, Prudie."
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She tips her head back, peering up at him with the sort of long-suffering adoration a passerby might expect to see of a preacher's wife.
"I am happy t'know. And I will maim you if y'keep callin' me that," she informs him, her voice just as sweet as honey.
She's probably joking.
Probably.