Paradise Sky

I thanked him again, got Satan, and rode to Bronco Bob’s place. Satan, having been ridden little during the winter, was a bit sassy, but I knew after we got on the trail he’d work off his fat and be all right. Me and him had come to an understanding.

Bronco Bob’s abode, as he preferred to call it, was off Main Street. I rode down the very same alley where I had killed Golem. I had been down it many times since I had been back in Dodge. Being there always made me feel a little odd, as if Golem might leap out in all his bloody glory and try and grab me. I tied Satan to a hitching post, climbed some stairs, and knocked on the door. I could hear Bronco Bob and his lady making the springs squeak.

I thought it best to leave a note, but I didn’t have pencil or paper on me. I was about to go down and get some out of my saddlebag when I heard Bronco Bob yell out, “Wait just a goddamn minute. I’m almost finished here. I’m at the peak and about to descend the mountain.”

The springs squeaked a little more, then there was a sound like someone happily sinking down into a feather bed after a week without sleep. About five minutes later, the door opened, and there was Bronco Bob in his filthy long johns.

“I didn’t know it was you, Deadwood. I thought it was a bill collector. I owe everyone for something. Be it meat or milk or whiskey. On top of that I need a new lambskin for my pecker. I’m about to break through the one I got. They don’t come cheap.”

“I have one made of rubber,” I said, “but I’ve never had the desire to lend it.”

“Or me to wear it.”

“Still, didn’t mean to interrupt you while you was mining for gold.”

“For what it’s worth, I found my nugget.”

“I’m leaving, Bob.”

“I knew you would before long. Guess I’ve been a little less of a friend than you might have expected.”

“You been all right,” I said. “You’ve got your life, and I got mine, such as it is.”

“I think my life is what led Kid Red into the arms of ruin. I should never have got him drinking. He was just a kid. That liquor made an outlaw of him.”

“That was a mistake, Bob. But we’ve all made a few. He’s young and may still straighten out. Should he come back through, give him my best, and then turn him in to the law. Could be the best thing that happens to him. Jail for theft before it’s jail and the gallows for murder.”

“Might be too late for that already,” he said. “There are rumors.”

“Let’s hope that’s all they are. Good-bye, Bronco Bob. I hope our trails cross again.”

“I’m sure they will. And where should I send the money for the dime novels?”

“Same place you been sending it.”

“Yeah. I know. I’m just talking. I mean well.”

“It’s all right, my friend. Adios.”

Within minutes I was out of Dodge and on the trail to Deadwood.

I come to the Dakotas, and spring or no spring, it was cold there. There was snow in the trees and over the rocks, and breathing the air was like breathing razors, but the trail was clear and no Indians tried to scalp me. I didn’t even see one, though I bet they saw me. They was supposed to have been tamed by this time, but I wasn’t going to count on a newspaper article that said it to be true. I kept my weapons loaded, my eyes sharp. I slept poorly. That wasn’t all about watching for savages. I was thinking about Win, and damn me, I was thinking about Ruthie, too. When her face would come to me, I’d try and push it from my head, but it would float right back up. I hate to say it, and I’m ashamed, but at that point I could hardly remember Win’s face—just her explosion of dark hair, that flute playing she did, and that sweet kiss up on the hill. The one that could never be matched.

Deadwood was less of a ragged town than it had been, though I should add that just a few years after I saw it for the last time (and this was the last time) a fire blazed through and burned the whole town to the ground. Some folks said it was the best thing that ever happened. Them that said it mostly lived somewhere else. But some of the Deadwood folks thought the same and was glad to see it rebuilt. That was, they say, the first begi

Banks and churches just about ruin everything.

There was new buildings and new streets, but it wasn’t so different that I had trouble finding where Cullen and Wow lived with Win. When I rode up in their yard Wow was outside hanging wash on the line. When she saw me ride up and dismount, she came ru

“It’s good to see you,” she said.

“And you.”

“You got that same black horse.”

“I do. And he’s as mean as ever.”

“Cullen is asleep. He’s working nights cleaning out stores, doing your old job, too, emptying spittoons. He’s hired someone to do some of the work for him. He’s trying to start a business like that, where he farms out hands for jobs and everyone gets paid. Mostly him.”

“Sounds like you’re prospering.”

“In a fashion.”

“Win?”

I already knew the answer from Cullen’s letter, but I was hoping against hope that in the last few months she had improved.

Wow shook her head. “Not well. You should brace yourself. Her mind is gone, and her body is nearly gone as well. I think she may well have some kind of disease. Maybe she always had it, and when she…Well, when what happened to her happened, she wasn’t strong enough anymore. She hardly eats, and if you try and force her a little, well, she chokes. We give her broth a lot. She can do broth.”

I said, “She’s in the house, I assume?”

“Yes. I’ll wake Cullen. He’ll want to see you. Win may be asleep; she may be awake. She hasn’t any set hours. She catnaps.”

“No need to wake him—or her, if she’s asleep.”

“There certainly is,” she said, and went ahead of me into the house.

I tied Satan to a post out front, waited for Wow to come back. When she did she had Cullen with her. He had thrown on some clothes, and his shirt was buttoned wrong. He looked thi

“Nat,” he said. “You son of a bitch.”

He grabbed me and hugged me so hard I thought he’d break my ribs. It was good to see him. When he let go, he said, “You’ll want to see Win.”

“Yes,” I said.

“Quit standing out here in the cold, then,” he said. “Where’s your ma

Cullen led me into the house, and Wow, with tears in her eyes, stayed outside to finish with her wash. Cullen led me to a doorway at the back of the house.

“You’ve built on,” I said.

“We own more land now. It’s my plan to be a property mogul, rent shitty houses, and hire out men and the like, not have to work so hard.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

“She’s here,” Cullen said, and opened a door.

I took off my hat and gave it to Cullen and went inside.

I would forever remember that kiss on the hill, and I will forever remember the skeleton in the bed, for that was what Win had become, and had I not recognized her hair, wild and loose on her pillow like a nest of snakes, I wouldn’t have known it was her at all, her face being a dim memory as it was.

Light from a window shining through thin curtains framed the bed, and what should have looked warm looked cold, like butter on ice. A blanket was over her, pulled up to her armpits. There was a bowl on the table beside her, and there was food in it; rice and some kind of stew. There was a spoon in it. It appeared untouched. There was a pitcher of water and a glass beside it.

“My heavens,” I said. I didn’t mean to say it, it just came out. I thought I had prepared myself, but seeing her was like discovering the world was a lie and we all lived in a little tin cup.