The Will
 by Sharon E. Cobb

"Okay, Daisy, I heerd you loud 'n clear that time. Looks like you ain't willin' to wait no longer." Alice sighed and pushed herself out of the chair.

The little goat danced impatiently as Alice bent over to pull on her boots. "Oof. I'm damned if that dadburned pain in my gut ain't gittin' worse by the day. But that sure ain't none of your worry, girl." She patted the goat's neck then jammed a greasy, floppy-brimmed fedora on her head, pushed open the screen door, and stepped out into the bright, summer sun. The little nanny tiptoed on tiny hooves down the two steps into the red clay dust of the back yard. "If you ain't the prettiest dang thing west of the Mississippi, I'll eat my hat," Alice said as she caressed the goat behind her delicate curved horns and shoved a yellow-green crab apple against the goat's freckled muzzle. "C,mon, pretty lady, let's go visitin'. Maybe ol' Jake'll be out this morning fillin' his grandkid's heads up with his sheriffin' bullcrap agin. Many times as I heerd them stories of his, they still git me all rankled up. I knows crap when it hits my ears, an' my knowin' scares him big."

Alice hooked a leash on Daisy's bead-studded collar and stepped out onto Maxwell Street. In shapeless trousers, scuffed boots, and sad hair that sighed from the frayed fedora, Alice bore no resemblance to the girl who had learned poker at her daddy's knee.

******

Alice Calhoun was born in 1889, in the raw hotel of a boom-town that fell off the map when its gold-lode petered out. Her mother was a lonesome farm girl from Nebraska, and her father, a restless gambling man. From the time her mother died when Alice was six-years-old, her father had raised her, taking her with him into the saloons and bawdy houses -- anyplace he could find a high-stakes poker game. Her mothers were prostitutes, her best friends bartenders, and her toys were old playing cards and broken poker chips. By the time she was twelve, Alice was playing penny-ante poker so well that she was on taking all comers, around out-of-the-way tables. "That girl," everyone'd say, "she'd rather play poker than eat. The spittin' image of her daddy, and then some."

When she was sixteen, her father died leaving Alice on her own. She took up where he'd left off and earned enough money in the next twenty years to hire a few girls out of Denver and open a bordello in the gold-mining town of Deadwood.

"I won't tolerate no drinkin' gutta any of you," Alice had warned her girls. "Ain't no whiskey passes my lips, and I expect the same gutta you. 'S far as men go, take their money and kiss 'em goodby. They ain't none of them that I seen, worth their spit." Not that Alice had ever had to fight off any man, considering her lack of feminine graces and good looks, but she'd learned the pitfalls of whorehouse madams first hand.

What she hadn't counted on in her new business venture was the sheriff of Lawrence County. On the very day that Alice opened her establishment on the second story of the Black Bear Saloon, Sheriff Hardy had hauled his six-foot-two frame up the twenty-six steps to Alice's office/boudoir, kicked open the door with a spurred boot, and announced, "If you got one thought under that ugly hat of yours that I'm not going to put all my weight to bear to run you out of this here town, you got another think coming, woman." From that moment, Jake and Alice were at war.

******

"He's out there alright, Daisy. Got those little 'Uns in a spell over some fool tale." Alice's eyes sparkled as she called out to the white-haired man on the stoop of the big, gray house. "You fighting' injuns or whores today, Sheriff?"

The four youngsters seated at his knee jumped up and ran to hug Daisy. It took Jake just three strides to get to the street where Alice stood ready with her hands planted on her ample hips.

"I'm not letting you dirty up my grandkids minds with your filthy mouth, you old sinner." Jake lifted his arm and pointed up the road toward Alice's house. "Get on back to your own place and stay there."

"Why Sheriff, what kinda talk is that after all you'n me's meant to each other." Alice's gray eyes twinkled under the ragged hat. "I done moved to Whitewood, here on this very street, 'cause I figured we'd be downright lonesome livin' apart."

Jake's eyes explored the length of the street as he ordered, "Git. I can't have the whole town seeing us talking. These are good people here, and you defile their air."

"This here's a free country, Jake Hardy, 'n you ain't got no business orderin' me off'n a public street."

"I ran you out of Deadwood, and I sure as hell can run you out of Whitewood, too, you old whore. And you keep away from these young'uns." Jake swooped the youngest child up in his arms and caressed his hair. "They're learning to be God-fearing from the Sisters up at the Academy, and I'm not having an old devil-crone the likes of you interfering with that."

"Huh," Alice huffed. "You think 'cause I left gutta Deadwood a little afore you, that you chased me out. Well, you got another think acomin', Sheriff. I had my own reasons for selling out, and you sure-as-hell warn't one of 'em."

******

It had been over two years since Alice had marched to the office of Sheriff Jake Hardy for the last time. All six-hundred and sixty-two residents of Deadwood seemed to be sniggering as Alice shifted the wad in her mouth from the left to the right and spit a brown stream into the dusty road without breaking her stride. Ten-feet from the jailhouse, she stopped, wiped the tobacco from her chin on a filthy sleeve, and shoved open the heavy pine door. Jake had been waiting for her behind the scarred desk on the other side of the room.

"Let 'em out you son-of-a-bitch." Alice had spit the words at him. "Ten years I been fighting' you, and a body gits downright sick on it." She threw a stack of bills on the desk, near the heel of his black boot.

Sheriff Hardy was still a handsome man despite his sixty-odd years. His steel-gray hair fell neatly on the back of his neck from under a spotless, white Stetson and white sideburns framed his tanned jaw. He bit harder on a soggy, black cigar, dropped his feet to the floor, and grinned as he reached for the money and shuffled it through his fingers. "Don't even need me to say the amount anymore, huh Alice? That's good. Don't waste time this way. Matter of fact, we don't even have to talk anymore. You can just walk in here, throw the two-hundred bucks down, and that's that." He unlocked the middle drawer of the desk, tossed in the money, and locked it up again.

"Let 'em out." He threw a ring of keys at the deputy lounging at the corner desk. "And no pinches or jokes. Just open the cell gentleman-like and stand aside." Jake stood up, twisted his thick mustache between two fingers, and grinned as he shoved a side-chair toward Alice. "Well, well, well. So, you're getting tired? Quitting, Alice? Can't see you just up and leaving. Wouldn't be like you."

"Just keep you're dad-burned chair, Jake Hardy. I ain't planning on stayin' in your self- righteous presence any longer'n I have to. I came to bail out my girls for the one-hundred and sixth time in the ten years I been conductin' business in this crappy town and to let you know that I found me a partner for the Black Bear Bawdy House, and a downright powerful one at that. He ain't gonna take your harassin' and wranglin' like I done. Got a purty penny for it too." Alice took the three steps to the door and turned to look square into Jake's pale blue eyes. "But don't you go thinkin' you've seen the last of this here woman, Sheriff. I'll be a hauntin' your dreams afore you're dead." She pulled open the door, stepped out again into the sunshine, strolled back down Main Street to the Black Bear Saloon, and with a loud "Yeehaw," disappeared inside.

******

"Alright, young'uns, kiss Daisy bye for now. Your grandpapy don't want us hangin' around no longer. But you's welcome to visit us any ol' time you want, jest like always. C'mon purty one, let's be a gittin' on home." Alice turned away and grabbed her stomach hard for an instant then shoved Daisy toward home.

It was three days before the Hardy children came to call. Alice had been unable to get out of bed except now and then to care for Daisy, for the pain in her stomach had become intolerable. But she had, after all, out-lived the Deadwood Doc's prediction by two years. Enough time, as she liked to put it, to be a horse-fly up Jake Hardy's ass.

It was two days later that Alice heard a quiet knock on her door. She hoped that she didn't look as bad as she felt as she forced her body out of bed, put her pain aside and opened the door to find Jake's four grandchildren. "Hello, there. Been expecting you."

"We just came to play with Daisy, Ma'am."

"C'mon in and set a while." Alice liked Jake's grandchildren. The eight-year-old girl was everything Alice had dreamed herself to be, pretty, educated, and loved. The six-year-old twins, a girl and a boy, were devils, and the three year old boy put her in mind of the cherubs in the painting that had hung above the bar at the Black Bear Saloon. Alice was a little sorry to use them as pawns, but it's not like she was going to hurt them.

"Set there." Alice pointed to the chairs she had arranged in the center of the room. "I'll git some lemonade." In the kitchen, she bent over from the pain that had nearly made her scream out.

"But, Ma'am, we just . . ."

"You jest set there. I got somethin' for you," Alice called. "Ain't gonna take long." She poured warm lemonade into the four jelly glasses that she had shined up three days ago, and carried them into the front room. "This'uns for you and yours, 'n yours. Here girl," she said as she handed the oldest girl the fourth glass. "This 'Uns for your little brother. Don't want it spilt afore he gits a swig."

"Say thank you to Miss Alice," she said to the restless twins in the chair beside her.

"'Tain't necessary to thank me," Alice said. "Jest hear me good. Your Grandpa Jake 'n me's been friends a long, long time. We might not be soundin' or actin' like it sometimes, but he's too danged bashful to admit it. So, because of that precious friendship, I got a present for each of you." That got their attention off the lemonade. "And all you gotta do is to git on home and show your good Grandpa Jake what you got from your old Aunt Alice." Alice grabbed the back of a chair for a moment, took a heavy breath and continued.

"Here, girl, this 'Uns for you." Alice held out a box to the oldest girl.

The girl caressed the red velvet cover before opening the box. "Oh. Are you sure . . . sure you want me to have . . .. Oh, my." The girl gasped at the glittery display of brooches and rings nestled in the plush interior of the box.

"'Course they're your'n. I gave 'em to you, didn't I? You tell your Grandpapy that these are jewels I saved from my girls, jest so I could make a present to one of his girls. Tell him jest like I said. You got that?"

"Yes, Ma'am. They belonged to Aunt Alice's girls. Yes, Ma'am. I got that."

"You, twins. Here's yours." Alice handed a white leather collar studded with glass rubies to the girl and a white braided leash to the boy. "Daisy's out in back. Git these on her and take her home. Go on, now, and tell your Grandpa that he's now got my goat. You say it jest like that. Say 'now you got Aunt Alice's goat. Go on. Say it."

In unison the twins repeated, "See Grandpa, now you got Aunt Alice's goat." Then they jumped to the floor and headed toward the back door calling, "Daisy. Here, Daisy."

"Don't you go forgittin' now," Alice yelled after them. "And now, little 'un. What you suppose I got for you?" She reached for the cigar box on the table behind her and handed it to the child.

He took it in both hands and dropped to the floor. He fumbled with the top and when it opened, he plunged both chubby fists into the blue, red, and white chips and playing cards and dropped two handsful to the floor.

"No, no. Put them back in the box. Wait 'til we get home," the older girl scolded her brother.

"Yes, wait 'til you show 'em to your grandpapy," Alice said. "You, girl, you must tell old Jake for me that these are from the Black Bear. You hear? From the Black Bear. He'll know what that is. Now git home afore you forgit everything I told you."

"Yes, Ma'am. I won't forget. I promise . . .. Oh, thank you." he girl tucked both boxes under her arm and pulled her brother to his feet "We'll come back for a visit again . . . I mean, just to see you. Bye."

As the four children and the goat headed down the street toward Jake's house, Alice snickered and slapped her thigh before turning back into the house. "Now, jest one thing more before I sleep." From the top drawer of the chest, she took a leather-bound document and a small, brown bottle. She looked into the mirror above the chest, ran a brush through her hair, pinched her drawn cheeks, then crawled into bed. She took the document from its case and read once more the will her lawyer had drawn up two years ago:

She smiled, placed the document on her chest, and anchored it firmly under her hand making certain that the words at the top, were in sight. Then Alice lifted the brown bottle in a last salute. "S'long, Sheriff, 'till we meet again."