The Complete Western Stories of Elmore Leonard - Elmore Leonard [180]
Hillpiper smiled faintly. “You were always a little stricter than most men anyway, Will. Seems like most of your life you’ve been a hardworking, Bible-reading family man, with no time for places like the Casa Grande. You’ve sweated your ranch into something pretty nice, something most other men wouldn’t have the patience or the guts to do. And I can see you not wanting to chance ruining all you’ve built—ranch or family. That’s why I was a little surprised when you of all people came in with this mail-order romance idea. I suspect, now that I think about it, you had the idea if a girl wants to get married she’s the simon-pure family type and nothing else. You had a good woman before, Will; so you expected one just as good this time.”
Hillpiper leaned a little closer, his eyes on Calender’s weathered face. “Will,” Hillpiper said. “You might be shocked a little bit, but when you get to heaven you’re going to see a lot of faces you never expected to see. Folks who got up there on God’s standards and not man’s. For all you know, you’re liable to even see Dick Maddox—though I suppose that would be stretching divine mercy a little thin.”
Anton Chico’s Justice of the Peace leaned back in his swivel chair, his coat opening to show a gold watch chain across his vest. His hand came out of a side pocket with a cigar, and with a match from a vest pocket he lit it, puffing a cloud of smoke. When he looked up, Calender was standing.
“What’ve you decided, Will?”
“I’ve got my kids to think about.”
“It’s your problem.” Hillpiper said this in a kindly way, stating a fact. “If you’ve decided not to go through with it, that’s your business.”
Will Calender nodded. “I suppose I should pay her stage fare back to Tascosa.”
“That would be nice, Will,” Hillpiper said mildly.
Calender thanked him and went out, down the stairs and into the street. Crossing to the other side, he felt awkward and self-conscious. The suit coat held tight across the shoulders and he could feel his big hands hanging too far out of the sleeves, and with nothing to hold on to.
It’s gotten hot, he thought, pulling his hat lower. Maybe the dryness makes it easier on some people, but it’s still hot. And then he thought: I’d better tell her before I buy the stage ticket.
DICK MADDOX was still in front of the hotel, but now more men were there. It had gotten around that Maddox was having some fun with Will Calender, so they drifted over casually from here and there, the ones who knew Maddox standing closest to him, laughing at what he said. The rest were all along the hotel’s shady ramada. One of the men saw Calender coming and he nudged Maddox, who looked up, then pretended he wasn’t concerned, until Calender was close to the hotel entrance.
“You change your mind, Will?”
Calender stopped and breathed out wearily, “If you showed as much concern for your own business, you’d be a well-to-do man.”
“You can’t take kiddin’, can you?”
“Why should I have to?”
“You got a lot to learn, Will.”
Calender shrugged, because he was tired of this, and went inside.
The boy was sitting alone, with his heels hooked in the wooden rungs of the chair. When he saw his father he jumped up quickly.
Calender looked about to be certain the woman was not in the lobby.
“Where is she?” he asked the boy.
“She went upstairs. All of a sudden she just started crying and went upstairs.”
“What?”
“It was when they started talking. We were sitting here, and then her chin started to shake—you know—and then she run upstairs.”
“Who was talking? The men outside?” The boy nodded hurriedly, and Calender could see that he was frightened and trying to hide it and at the same time was not