Gunman's Rhapsody

By a thorough knowledge of the natural laws which govern the operations of digestion and nutrition, and by careful application of the fine properties of well-selected Cocoa, Mr. Epps has provided our breakfast tables with a delicately flavored beverage which may save us many heavy doctors bills…

James Epps & Co.

London, Eng.

Seventeen

It was early March. Wyatt was dealing faro in the Oriental and drinking coffee and watching the room. He wasn’t looking for John Tyler. John Tyler had never come back into the Oriental, and Wyatt heard he had moved on. Wyatt was just watching the room, as he watched every room he was ever in. He looked at everything around him and had for as long as he could remember. He could see farther than most men, and even as a child he was aware of what was happening behind him, as much as he was of what went on in front. He saw Josie Marcus the moment she came into the saloon.

She stood a moment, until her eyes adjusted, then she looked around the room and saw Wyatt and smiled and started over.

“Game’s closed, gentlemen,” Wyatt said.

He paid off the winners, collected from the losers and was on his feet by the time Josie reached him. She had on a very pleasant cologne.

“Here you are,” Josie said.

The room was half full in the afternoon, and lively. The noise didn’t abate, but a lot of the men and all of the whores paused to look at Josie Marcus.

“Hello, Josie.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your game.”

“You can interrupt anytime,” he said. “Don’t see anyone like you in here very often.”

“A lady?” she said. “Like me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh hell, Wyatt, I used to work in places like this.”

“I thought your daddy had money.”

“He does.”

Josie sat in one of the chairs vacated when the card game closed.

“So how come you were working in saloons?”

“May I have a drink?” Josie said.

Wyatt looked at her silently for a moment, then signaled to one of the bartenders.

“I’d like some whiskey,” Josie said when the bartender came over. “With water.”

The bartender looked at her, and then at Wyatt. Wyatt nodded, and the bartender went and got it.

“Am I shocking you?” Josie said to Wyatt after the bartender had left.

“You’re interesting me,” Wyatt said. “How come you worked in saloons?”

“Same reason I was an actress,” she said.

“Which was?”

“I thought it might be fun,” she said.

“And?”

“And it was for a little while.”

“Then Behan came along?” Wyatt said.

“Yes. And I thought he might be fun.”

“And?”

“And,” Josie said, “he was for a little while.”

She looked straight into his face when she said it. And had a swallow of whiskey and drank some water behind it. Wyatt sipped his coffee, holding the cup in both hands, looking at her over the cup. Then he smiled. She had never seen him smile. Though he was always polite, he was always reserved, and the smile was startling. When he smiled, all of him smiled. His mouth, his eyes, his whole face. He was so of a piece, she thought, that his whole person seemed to express him.

“Now you’ve come along,” Josie said.

“You think I might be fun?” Wyatt said.

“I think you might be a lot of fun,” Josie said.

They looked at each other in silence. Josie drank a little more whiskey. She knew who he was. She knew he was dangerous. She could see what Clay Allison had seen. What is it? She had thought about it since she’d met him. He was different from other men she had known. Different from Behan. Maybe it wasn’t something. Maybe what she was seeing was the absence of something, like looking at the dark.

“Behan’s up to Tucson till Thursday,” Josie said. “Now that he’s the new sheriff, he’s up there a lot.”

“Johnny always liked the political stuff,” Wyatt said.

Josie kept studying Wyatt’s face.

“I hate to eat alone,” she said.

Wyatt drank the rest of his coffee and put the cup down slowly. She loved how precise he was. How even his smallest gesture seemed perfectly controlled.

“I’d be pleased to buy you dinner at the Russ House,” Wyatt said.

“I accept,” she said. “But first I’d like another whiskey.”