A Wanted Man

Stone Creek, Arizona Territory January, 1905 ROWDY RHODES LEANED BACK in the whorehouse bathtub, a cheroot jutting from between his teeth, and sighed as he waited for the chill of a high-country winter to seep out of his bones. Jolene, an aging madam with pockmarked skin, three visible teeth and a bustle the size of the Sonoran Desert, sloshed another bucketful of steaming water at his feet. "I done seen everything now," she told him, her eyes narrowed in lascivious speculation as she studied Rowdy's submerged frame. "Ain't nobody never brought a dog to my bathhouse before." Pardner, the old yellow hound, sat soaked and bewildered in the tub next to Rowdy's. He'd gotten pretty scruffy on the long ride up from Haven, the dog had, and Rowdy meant to take him for barbering next. They could both do with a haircut, and Rowdy was itching for a shave. Pardner was just plain itching. "Always a first time," Rowdy said, drawing on the cheroot and then blowing a smoke ring. Jolene lingered, probably hoping to do less-hygienic business, but willing to settle for whatever conversation might come her way. "It's one thing, you payin' for clean water for yourself, but I don't see how as it makes a difference to the dog." Rowdy grinned and blew another smoke ring. "We'll be wanting steaks, soon as we're dried off and decent, if you can scare them up," he told Jolene. "Pardner likes his rare." "If that don't beat all," Jolene said, pondering the hound. "I can get steaks, all right, but they'll cost you a pretty penny. And if you've a mind to pass the time upstairs with any of my girls, cowboy, your partner here will have to wait in the hall." Given that he was naked, and in a prone position, Rowdy didn't see any profit in pointing out that he didn't have truck with whores. His .44 was within easy reach, as always, but shooting a woman, saint or sinner, was outside the boundaries of his personal code. Unless, of course, she drew first. "No time for idling with the ladies," he said, feigning regret. He idled with plenty of ladies, whenever he got the chance, but he favored fine, upstanding widows. "You lookin' for ranch work?" Jolene asked, in no apparent hurry to rustle up the steaks. "Maybe," Rowdy answered. The truth was, he'd been summoned to Stone Creek by none other than Major John Blackstone and Sam O'Ballivan, an Arizona Ranger he'd chanced to encounter down south, a little over a year before, in the border town of Haven. He'd come partly because he and Pardner hadn't had anything better to do, and because he was curious. And there were a few other reasons, too. He suspected his pa was somewhere in these parts, up to his old tricks, for one. "Try Sam O'Ballivan's place," Jolene said helpfully. "Sam's a fair man, and he's always hirin' on hands to feed them cattle of his." Rowdy nodded. "Obliged," he said. "Not that you're hurtin' for money, if you can afford clean bathwater and a steak for a dog," Jolene added. "A man can always use money," Rowdy allowed, wishing Jolene would order up the steaks, go back to riding herd over the drunks he'd seen out front in the saloon swilling whiskey, and leave him to bathe in peace. Pardner gave a despairing whimper. "Just bide there for a while," Rowdy told him quietly. Pardner huffed out a sigh and hunkered down to endure. He was a faithful old fella, Pardner was. He'd trotted alongside Rowdy's horse for the first few miles out of Haven, but then he'd gotten footsore and come the rest of the way in the saddle. As they traveled north, the weather got colder, and they'd shared Rowdy's dusty old canvas coat. Remembering the looks they'd gotten from the townsfolk, him and Pardner, riding into town barely an hour before, Rowdy smiled. Even with a new and modern century underway, the Arizona Territory was still wild and woolly, and odd sights were plentiful. He wouldn't have thought a man and a dog on the back of the same horse would attract sMiller, Linda Lael is the author of 'A Wanted Man', published 2008 under ISBN 9780373772964 and ISBN 0373772963.