The Girl in a Coma by John Moss

Author:John Moss
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press
Published: 2016-04-18T04:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

Lizzie

Guiding their horses past occasional clearings through the forest, Lizzie and her escort didn’t talk. It was late in the day when they descended the rocky cleft in the escarpment. Soon they were on mud roads packed down through the long summer months by wagons and carts. As they approached Chippewa, they passed fences made from the stumps of big trees that had been hauled out of the fields by oxen. Then the fences became cedar rails laid out in a zigzag fashion. A few cows wandered about, nibbling on the dried grass.

They crossed The Crick and pulled up their horses in front of Macklem’s Tavern, where Lizzie had left Cameron and Beazley.

“You wait where you are,” said Will Richardson as he dismounted. “It’s too hard to get you back up on that beast again.”

Lizzie was appalled. Her escort had managed to insult her, suggesting she was heavy, and to insult her horse, calling him a beast. Just because Will Richardson was young and handsome and very dashing by anyone’s judgment, that didn’t give him the right to be rude.

But she stayed on Fleetfire’s back, leaning forward to rub his ears, and said nothing. Will disappeared through the doors into the tavern.

Soon, Lizzie could hear the rough sounds of men laughing. She waited. There was more laughter. She waited a little longer. It was going to be dark before long.

Finally, in exasperation she swung her long skirts up over Fleetfire’s head and slid down from his back. She marched across the sidewalk made of wooden planks. She knew women were not allowed in the saloon. She pushed open the doors and strode inside like she owned the place.

There were only three customers at the bar. There was Beazley, looking fat and quite drunk. There was Cameron, standing at ease and pretending to be sober. And there was Will Richardson, tipping a large glass of whiskey back so vigorously that some of it missed his mouth and dribbled down his cheeks.

The laughter died. All three men stared at Lizzie in amazement. The bartender was astonished. There had never been a woman in his establishment since the day it was built.

Lizzie was dressed in coarse drab clothes but there was no mistaking that she was a woman. None of the men had seen anything so unnatural ever before.

Even Will Richardson appeared shocked.

He moved away from the bar, hitched up his trousers, and took a couple of steps toward her.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he exclaimed.

“I’m sure you will be,” she responded.

He grinned.

“Just what are you doing?” Lizzie demanded. “These men are under arrest for desertion and for arson and you’re to escort me to General Brock. Did you forget your responsibilities when you walked through that door, Will Richardson?”

“No, ma’am,” he said, still grinning. “I was just getting fueled up for the rest of the journey.”

“Drunk,” she said. “You were getting drunk.”

“Yes, ma’am. A little drunk. Now you wait with the horses and I’ll bring these two rascals out and we’ll be on our way.

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