Saddle Dust

Chapter 4

The St. Louis train station is an impressive and well-glassed building with gigantic iron beams that seem to dome in the sky and countless train tracks. It's bustling with activity and filled with cigarette smoke and train steam and a dull roar of conversation that is echoed over and over again throughout the structure. Anita and Casey step off into a world vastly different from that of small town San Dimas. After stepping off of the train and down onto the platform, they pause to take in their surroundings.
Anita's mouth hangs open and she stares wide-eyed at the gargantuan structure encasing her, Casey, and nearly a thousand other people. She turns in a slow circle, trying to take in and memorize every single tile, rail, and archway in the place. Casey walks over to Anita, smiling. Anita turns to her, eyes still wide but smiling now.
"Casey, look! Look at this place! I had no ideaâ€"" she cuts herself off, seemingly lost for words to continue to describe her wonderment.
"Wait till you see the ticket area." Anita's mouth drops open again.
"There's…more? How? Where?" Casey adjusts the saddle bag she has slung over one shoulder and subtly takes Anita's hand.
"I do believe it's this way."
Anita's amazement at the train entrance turns to nothing less than wonderment at the cavernous and gilded ticket room at the center of the station.
"This isn't a ticket room, it's…it's more of a palace. Why, I bet you could fit all of San Dimas in here and still find space for the mountains." Casey laughs at Anita's remark and finds that Anita's awe at the impressive station is highly contagious.
"I bet you could. In that case…" Casey turns and searches one of the Eastern facing walls. She points to a teller standing behind one of the many counters who is taking money from a passenger through a brass bar window. "I think that's where the saloon would be if someone were to put all of San Dimas in here."
Anita nods and smiles. "Yes. I think that's right." She turns to the Southern facing wall and points back towards the high archway they had just passed under from the platform. "That's where the grocer's would be. And over hereâ€"" she turns and points to another line of counters armed with time tables. "Is where the main road would be."
Casey looks towards the wall where Anita has indicated the Main Street of San Dimas would be, and sees a small painted figure of a cherub seeming to lean out from one of the walls. She is reminded of the first time she had set foot in Union Station. She guesses she must have been about ten, and just as awe-struck as Anita. Sundance had picked her up and put her on his shoulders. He had held her feet to keep her from toppling off, and she had kept her small arms wrapped around the crown of his black gambler hat, holding on the best she could and trying to take in everything at once. With her free hand, Casey absentmindedly touches the brim of the black hat now, remembering how the station had looked through her young eyes from her perch high above the heads of the other passengers.
"Sundance, why does that boy have wings?" Sundance had turned so he could see the small painting of a cherub Casey had spotted. She remembers the way in which he had answered her in the voice he always used when he was telling a joke but was trying to be deadly serious. He had even cleared his throat meaning anyone listening was in for a treat. "Well, that little boy liked to kill birds and one day, the friends and family of the dead birds got revenge on him and turned him into a bird."
"Really?"
"Yup." Sundance had replied, winking at Laura and Butch who had just rolled their eyes and ignored his teasing. Even at the time, Casey had known Sundance's story was not entirely true, but she still liked to believe it was anyway.
"What are you thinking about?" Casey shakes herself out of the memory and sees Anita looking curiously at her.
"Sorry, what did you say?"
Anita smiles and shakes her head. "You were off thinking about something again. You always touch your hat when you're thinking."
"Oh" Casey smiles. "I was just remembering the first time I was here. The gang brought me, and I think we actually might have been trying to rob coaches."
A woman sniffs as she and two men walk by. Casey notices an upturned nose and disapproving sideways glance which disappears quickly behind the flash of a fan and the square body of one of the men as he blocks the woman from view. Casey looks down at Anita's hand, still in her own, and quickly lets it go. She looks down at her scuffed boots, feeling heat rising to her face. "Sorry. That was foolish of me."
Anita looks at Casey and rests a hand on her shoulder for a moment, smiling softly. "Casey, we're about to rob and fence stagecoaches from some seriously affluent folk. I don't think anything could be much more foolish than that."
Casey looks at Anita, a half smile on her face. "Alright. I guess I'll take that to the bank."
Anita picks up her small trunk. "Well, you'd better not because it's probably stolen goods."
Casey laughs and shakes her head. "Let's go. It's a bit of a walk to where I think we can find some horses."
Anita looks at her, surprised. "When's the coach due?" They both start walking towards the main doors where a sea of people enter and leave in waves.
"Too soon. But I think if we hurry, we might just have enough time to purchase horses and supplies and get a real meal someplace. I also haven't been in this area in a very long time, and I want to get out to the road where I think the coach might cross so we have at least the better part of a full day to scout everything out. I want to be about a day's ride out from this city when we hold 'emâ€" less chance of running into witnesses. The note says the coach is due in three, no, four days, so we'd best leave here by late morning tomorrow."
"That gives us the better part of a full day's worth of time to get everything in order."
Casey nods. "Right. I also want to talk about how to pull one of these things off. You're going to need a gun and a knife for sure. Let's make that our first stop after the horses."
"Alright."
They leave Union Station and find themselves on a busy sidewalk. Bright afternoon sunlight slants through massive buildings and illuminates the bustling city in a warm glow. A trolly passes by and rings its bell at a horse drawing a cart which almost clips the front of the trolly. People rush by, flowing around Casey and Anita like a stream around rocks.
"How many times have you been here before?"
"To the station only two or three times but I've been in St. Louis more than that. Usually just passing through but sometimes we'd stay at one of the saloons for a few nights."
"Would the saloon be one of the 'safe' ones?"
Casey nods. "Yes and that's actually a place I'd like to stop by. The owner might have some more information on the coach or at least we could get the layout of the area. Wouldn't be a bad spot to get a decent meal either. Let's go see about some horses first though."
Casey and Anita walk left down the street heading towards Tower Grove park where Casey remembers the gang being able to buy horses without papers at a reduced price. The stables are well known and highly thought of, especially by the affluent of the city, and aren't directly a place to purchase unregisteredâ€" mostly stolen horsesâ€" but there are a handful of names who work at the stables who run lesser-known businesses of their own.
As they walk, Casey and Anita talk over strategies for robbing the coach.
"There's two sides to there being only two of us. The disadvantage is that if they catch on that there's something funny going on, we're almost certainly going to be outgunned. The advantage is that since there's only two of us, we can be much more crafty with how we handle things."
"How so?"
"Well, your acting back on the train with the Harlson lady gave me an idea. I was thinking that we come up with an act. My idea is that you stop the coach, pretend to be injured or in need of a ride or something. While they're distracted up front, I'll go around back and climb up onto the top of the coach and…"
Anita looks at Casey.
"Kill them? Knock them off?"
"Something like that."
Anita sighs and shakes her head. "What I don't understand is how you haven't killed more people than those men in Dodge City. Or how you haven't been killed yourself holding up places all on your own."
Casey gives a short laugh and they turn the corner, now heading southwest and away from the Mississippi River.
"You know, me neither. But I think it's sort of like this: if you start shooting and killing, then they'll start shooting too. The people chasing after you don't want to kill, but they don't know that you don't either. So if you keep the gunplay to a minimum but flash it around a little, you're mostly OK. It's not like in those Civil War dramas folks are so keen on. People just don't usually want to get guns involved if they don't think they have to."
"I suppose so."
They both ponder this for a while, enjoying the feeling of being able to stretch their legs after traveling in tight, airless quarters for so long. They pass by a photography shop (Anita jokes they should get their portraits taken so the papers have a nice photo to run if the law catches up with them), a tailor's, and a barber's where a man is getting a rather unpleasant looking shave. Casey nods towards the window of the barber shop.
"Must be the new style."
Anita turns and looks to where Casey has indicated.
"What? Dead cat?"
"I think this version of the Dead Cat is more Dead Cat That's Been Run Over by a Trolley."
They both laugh at this and are nearly run over by a horse and buggy turning the corner in front of them. The driver shouts a warning and curses angrily at them as he speeds down the road and out of sight. Once safely across the street, Anita brings up the topic of stagecoaches again.
"I don't think your plan is half bad but I'm not about to start selling any services, you hear?"
Casey shakes her head vigorously and responds seriously. "Services? About the plan for the coach? Anita, I would never ask you to do that. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I knew we were getting rich off of something like that. If you'd rather we try to think up some other way toâ€""
"No. I think it's a good plan. At least, I don't think either of us has got a better one since I ain't used a gun on anyone before."
Casey nods. "Alright. You're still gonna get shooting lessons though once we're out on the trail."
Anita rolls her eyes. "Well of course. I'm not letting you have all the fun and excitement while I'm lyin' in the middle of the road pretending to have lost a shoe or some other tragedy like that."
Anita's face brightens and she gives Casey a sideways glance.
"Besides, I beat you pretty good at cards so I'll probably end up giving you shooting lessons."
Casey tries to look upset by this comment but she can't help but laugh.
"Sure. Whatever you say."
"So, how do these things work anyway? Do you just stand there in the middle of the road or do you jump up on 'em from behind?"
Casey considers this.
"Well, with the gang, we'd always have two blocking in the front, then the rest'd come up along the sides. We'd tie up the drivers or sometimes Butch or Carver'd give 'em a few good kicks and they'd be dead pretty fast. When it was just me, well, I actually only robbed one coach when it was only me and it didn't go too well. Coaches are hard because the drivers and guards can usually tell if it's just you or if you're with others. You either have to try an' shoot everyone at once because you have to have someone holding the driver and passengers down while the other searches the coach. With two, it's complicated but people ain't used to seeing women out fencing coaches so I think we'll be able to get away with at least three or four robberies before they really start to catch on. Oh, here we are."
Casey and Anita cross the street and enter Tower Grove. The park is a large, beautifully kept affair with large, sweeping stone walks trimmed with flowers of every color. Large shade trees sprawl overhead, their gigantic southern grown leaves breathing coolly across the park's summer visitors. Benches are scattered about along the sides of the walking paths and a handful of park goers sit and enjoy the shade of the trees. Someone paints the portrait of a young girl and her grandmother standing by an ornately decorated fountain which sprays a fine mist of water into the arms of a winged nymph.
"Casey, look! The fountain is making a rainbow."
Casey looks, and sees a thin rainbow flash momentarily in the mist from the fountain. "Hmm."
They continue walking towards the far end of the park passing a trio of men taking a leisurely ride on their horses on one of the many horse-paths looping the park.
"I didn't know you could grow gardens like this here. I thought that was something that only existed in children's stories."
Casey looks around, taking in the neat rows of flowers and closely trimmed hedges and sweeping limbs of the trees above. She smells the sweet, fresh air and feels a cool breeze on the back of her neck and hands.
"I think I liked Dodge better."
"Now you're just being childish."
"Yeah." Casey stoops, picking a bright yellow dandelion from one of the flower beds. She holds it out to Anita, who tucks it behind her ear.
The horse stables consist of a short, light grey building with a bell tower over the main door Casey guesses was made in imitation of the Alamo in Texas, a place she had been on only one (and a rather unpleasant) occasion with the gang. It has a few low windows open to the air to let a breeze in for the animals inside. In total, the stables house ten horses and a handful of chickens.
"Wait here while I see if I can find Chadwell around here anywhere. He knows me and I think he'll be able to point us in the right direction."
Anita nods and takes the saddle bag from Casey, laying it over the top of the trunk.
Casey enters the stables and immediately her nose is met with the dusty, hay and animal scent of the horses. She steps inside, taking her hat off as she does so, painfully reminded of Steadfast as she sees the smaller riding horses and large carriage drafts standing dutifully in their stalls.
"Ms. Long? Is that you?"
Casey turns and finds herself looking at a much older (and pudgier) Chadwell. A few strands of grey hair span the crown of his head almost as if they are trying to make up for their quickly dwindling numbers. His wide, sweaty face grins down at her above a pair of bright red suspenders desperately clawing at the fabric of worn out riding pants Casey thinks she remembers him wearing the last time she was here which, she thinks, was the better part of six years ago.
She smiles back at the man who could have been her own grandfather, and practically had been when she was still running with the gang.
"Chadwell! It's wonderful to see you."
"And after so long!"
He adjusts his brass glasses which just slide back down to the end of his large, sweaty nose before continuing. "Although to be frank, I'm surprised you're still alive."
"Same to you. I wasn't expecting you to still be here at the stables after all this time."
"Yes, well, it's my passion in life, so to say." He winks at her, patting his shirt pocket where Casey can see a tidy fold of bills poking out.
"Speaking of business, I seem to find myself in need of a horse. Well, two, actually."
Chadwell raises his bushy salt and pepper eyebrows.
"What happened to that big draft you were always so fond of?"
Casey can't help the strain in her voice even after all this time.
"I'll leave it at he died in the harness."
"Ah. I'm terribly sorry. I knew how much you liked him. He was a good horse. I'm also terribly sorry about Sundance and Butch. I read about it in the papers. Bad luck's what it was."
Casey just nods. Chadwell wipes a line of sweat from his upper lip, and continues on.
"So, about those horses. I'm proud to say I'm still in the business, but my selection has narrowed significantly. Too many fish with too many mouths, one might say."
Casey nods again, pretending to understand his odd sayings but mostly happy to be hearing his old familiar ramblings after so many years. It brings back bittersweet memories of past times with the gang.
"That's alright. Just need two good, fast ones. Reliable and not jumpy."
"That's all I sell, isn't it?" Chadwell chuckles merrily. "We can go now then. My place isn't too far from here and I'm done with my…erm… part time work for today."
He turns and Casey follows him to the door.
"You say you need two horses? Are you still riding with Bill? Or…no. It would be Carver or Ms. Bullion wouldn't it?"
"Actually, neither. I'm riding with a Ms. Anita Romero. She's a good friend of mine."
They exit the stables and Casey is slightly pleased to see a look of shock flash across Chadwell's large features as he sees the short, small frame of Anita. Her hair is tied back and she's wearing one of the dresses she ordered from the Sears catalog. The dandelion is tucked neatly behind one ear, and she stands perfectly straight in between the saddle bag and trunk and Casey's nap sack. Her arms hang at her sides.
Chadwell walks to her and extends a hand, Anita allows him to take her hand lightly in greeting. He turns to Casey and grins, shaking his head.
"So, you've dragged yet another innocent and charming young lady into the life."
Casey smiles at Anita who looks between her and Chadwell with a sort of pleased humor in her expression.
"Seems so, although this is her first ride and I doubt she'd actually want to give up her saloon to get shot at as a lifestyle."
"Oh, you own a saloon? Well! In that case, we're already good old friends."
Anita blushes slightly and gives Chadwell a friendly smile.
"Well, it ain't much of a place but if you want to know, that's how I found Casey. Up at the bar, she was, and drunk as a duck. Barely able to sit up in a chair, let alone walk."
"Really?" Chadwell gasps theatrically, turning back to Casey. "Casey Long! Up with a bottle. How unforeseen!"
"Thanks. Glad to know you're still the same ornery old man with the horses I first met nearly nine years ago." Casey says dryly.
Chadwell gives a hearty laugh, clapping Casey sharply on the shoulder.
"And I'm glad to see you haven't lost that sarcastic streak Sundance instilled in you. That would be a shame, wouldn't it, Ms. Romero?"
Chadwell winks at Anita and she laughs, smiling teasingly at Casey.
"Oh, I don't know. I think the sarcasm's what's keeping her from the rope. The devil just don't want her because of it." Chadwell guffaws at Anita's joke, breaking into a coughing fit after nearly a full half minute of gut-wrenching laughter. He finally manages to get a hold of himself.
"And heaven's marked her off since she could spit from a horse's back. How very right you are.You know, I think I like Ms. Romero here. You two are going to do well at whatever you're off to, and do you know why that is?"
He looks expectantly from one to the other, then answers his own question.
"You're going to do well because I'm going to give you the best damned horses I own."