the McMurray woman I like best. Maybe she wouldn’t think being married to me was so bad. Every time we travel I’ll insist she has the best, and, of course, I’ll be right by her side. There was a time when he’d thought the good life was eating regularly; now he wanted more, but dreaming wouldn’t make it happen and he knew this journey would be no more than a dream. In real life, rich women from good families don’t marry gamblers. But if he was going to dream, he planned to at least let the next few days be a good dream. At the end of the week he could go back to reality.
He recalled how peacefully Walter the Fourth had been snoring as he and the bartender from Crystal’s loaded him on a train heading to California just before dawn. Lewt had changed clothes with the man, of course, and taken half of his luggage in one turn of the cards. Like most bad gamblers, Walter wouldn’t accept his losses and quit. He kept offering Lewt more and more to toss into the pot. Lewt made sure that once the man sobered up somewhere in the territories, Walter would have enough money for passage back home, though he doubted Walter would have done the same for him if the cards had played out differently.
Lewt had worked three months, spending only what he had to, sleeping in borrowed bunks and eating the salty, free food on the bar, in order to save enough to buy the suit and ring he’d packed away. At the time he saw it as a symbol of wealth, but he wouldn’t wear it for this trip. For the next week he’d play his part. Maybe even flirt with the ladies a little.
If Walter Freeport the Fourth was fool enough to come back to Austin, he’d never find the Harry West he’d had drinks with last night.
Lewt smiled. The ladies didn’t know it, but even if they picked him as a husband, they’d be doing better than Walter. If he ever had a lady at his side, he’d treat her like a queen.
A rattling came from the platform as suitcases and feet hit the metal steps. Lewt turned to welcome the other guests for the trip and size up his competition.
A young man in his early twenties stepped in first loaded down with bags. He wasn’t tall, but he had a wide smile and a good honest face. If Lewt were guessing, he’d say the young man was not more than a year out of school. Probably one of those big colleges back east.
Behind him stood a short woman who barely fit through the door. She carried a birdcage and wore a hat almost a foot high as if the feathers and bows would somehow make her taller.
“This is it, Mother,” the young man said. “Isn’t it nice? I’m sure we’ll be comfortable here.”
The little lady’s cheeks dimpled with pleasure. “Lovely,” she said in a sweet voice. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, but I worry about coming along, Davis. It isn’t right to just show up.”
“It’s all right,” Davis said as he settled her on the small love seat across from Lewt. “I’m sure no one will mind. I’ve no doubt the McMurrays are as used to entertaining on a moment’s notice as we are at home. When Uncle Phil wrote Duncan, he said the Allenders would always be welcome at his family ranch. Besides”—he winked—“they’ll love you. Everyone does.”
Lewt stood politely and introduced himself, using his own name but adding the Third to it, hoping that would add respectability.
Davis Allender and his mother seemed delighted to have the company. Apparently she’d been visiting friends and checking on her son when the invitation came from Duncan. There had been no time for her to write ahead and ask if she could accompany her son, and the young man didn’t look like the type who would abandon his mother even to go courting.
Mrs. Allender was one of those women made of sugar, Lewt decided. She had apple round cheeks and tiny hands as white as bleached cotton. She preceded every question with “If you don’t mind my asking . . .” or “If you’ll be so kind to tell us . . .” When Lewt showed her kindness and respect, he won the approval of both the Allenders.
He even told her the bird was cute, when in truth he was sure it was the ugliest thing