Clem's Friday morning news about Howard was interesting to me, mainly because it was right in line with the El Paso history I remembered. Here is what Clem told me.
After Howard and Braxton left me yesterday, instead of going to Howard's ranch, they rode over to the mayor's house. They took the mayor down to the railroad station and sent a telegram to the governor in Austin. Bo, the telegraph operator, related that the mayor asked Governor Hubbell to dispatch some Texas Rangers to El Paso, because Mexican criminal elements from both sides of the river were perpetrating crimes all over the county. As an example, he cited how Judge Howard had been kidnapped and held for ransom by Mexicans in San Elizario.
This morning, the governor wired Mayor Cosgrove that he was sending a couple of senior Rangers to check out the situation. One thing I was going to try to change about history was the fate of the Ranger Company that the two officers from Fort Stockton formed while they were in El Paso. It was the only Ranger unit to ever surrender in Texas history. I was determined to change that somehow.
I worked and worried my ass off all that day, trying to insure our grand opening went off with out a hitch. Well, not actually all day, because at two in the afternoon after I had worked through lunch, Belle dragged me back to the apartment. I fussed and complained all the way, but she was adamant that I get a few minutes rest.
I had no sooner closed the door behind us than three very naked women grabbed me.
"Keep him here until at least five o'clock, girls, I don't care if you have to tie him up," Belle instructed just before she slipped back out the door.
I was laughing and Maria, Miranda and Connie were all giggling like crazy as they tugged me into the bedroom. I started mock resisting the closer I got to the bed. That turned out to be not the wisest idea I ever had, because I heard Connie give one of those war whoops and with my souped up peripheral vision, saw her jump up on the chair for my writing desk. The next thing I knew, her little Comanche ass landed on my back and knocked me face down onto the bed. Before I could right myself, Connie wrapped her thighs around my neck in a leg scissors.
Connie probably weighed a buck fifteen at the most, but she had powerfully muscled legs. For a minute there I thought she was going to break my neck, but she seemed to know just exactly how much pressure to apply. Meanwhile, Maria and Miranda were sitting on my arms so I was pinned to the mattress like a bug. It was a humbling experience.
"So paleface, are you going to behave or are we going to have to tie you up?" Connie asked.
Connie loosened her strangle hold on me so I could answer her. Never one to take the easy way out, I pretended to think it over.
"I don't know," I said. "What do I get if I behave?"
Turns out my three sweeties knew how to reward good behavior. It wasn't my first foursome, but it beat the hell out of the ones that I used to have with three other guys on the golf course. The other two girls decided that it should be Miranda's turn to receive a lot of attention, since she couldn't get away to join us that often. Ganging up on devilish little Miranda was a blast.
Luckily for me, Maria and Miranda only stayed an hour. If they'd have stayed another five minutes, I don't think I'd have been able to work for a week. They were barely out the door before I was asleep, spooned up against Connie's muscular butt, my hand holding her small breast. Connie and I had the same snuggle magic that I shared with Belle. The three of us slept so entwined, we would have been comfortable on an Army cot.
Belle woke me up at five-thirty on the dot. She had my clothes laid out for me already, the women having decided that they liked me best in black trousers, white shirt and shawl necked vest covered by a morning coat. I usually ditched my suit coat and tie early in the evening, so I was always the most casually dressed man in the club, but I always started out as Beau Brummell. Belle made sure I was dressed to her satisfaction, then told me to hold down the fort while she and Connie prepared themselves for the evening. I kissed both women and headed towards the restaurant.
It was six on the dot when I entered Ramona's, and the place was filled to capacity, with about thirty people standing in the lobby waiting on a table. Anna was handling the crowd with dignity and grace. She had a way of making every customer feel special. I walked back to the kitchen and made me a sandwich that I ate sitting at the table in the break area. From the restaurant, I wandered upstairs.
The upstairs dining room was also filled, and the partitions had been rolled back so the overflow was dining in Belle's club. A few members were even taking their meals in the library. I walked around and greeted everyone at every table. The club members were almost unanimous in there praise of the rack of lamb that was the featured menu item that night. They were also highly complimentary about the service they were receiving.
After I walked through the upstairs club, I went down to the ballroom and checked to see if the Hombres were there. The Happy Hombres were not only good musicians; they were also great employees, because they were always on time and always ready to perform.
I had to smile at the new Charro Suits they were wearing. I had sent them to the haberdasher across the river, and the club bought them some fancy new suits. Looking at their new clothes made me kind of envious, because the suits were very cool. The Hombres liked them too, as they were all smiles as they tuned up their instruments. As I was standing there bull-shitting with them, Ernesto, the bands leader and Miguel Calderon's father, asked me if I was going to do a few numbers with them that evening. Does a hobby horse have a hickory dick?
"You will have to tie me up and gag me for it to be otherwise," I told him.
Ernesto smiled at that and motion to his son. I looked at Miguel curiously when he walked over to a table and picked up a parcel. Miguel handed the wrapped bundle to his father, who in turn shoved it into my hands.
"If you are going to play with us, Señor Ty, you need to be dressed appropriately."
I ripped into the wrapping paper around the parcel and sure as shit, they had a suit just like theirs for me. I was grinning like a jackass as I held up the jacket with its silver piping. I wondered for a minute if the suit would fit, then realized that the haberdasher had my measurements from the Charro Suit I had him make as a surprise for Anna. I told the fellows I'd change right before we started the nine o'clock show.
Yeah, I had decided that on opening night, we'd have a floor show from nine until eleven, then throw the joint open for dancing. I didn't really have a clue as to what kind of crowd we'd have, but I was counting on some of the dancers and bar girls dressing up and dropping by. Hell, if that's the only audience we had, it would still be a pleasure to play for them. I guess I was some sort of reverse snob or something, because to me, the saloon women of El Paso were much better company than the regular citizens anyway.
While I was standing in the lobby chatting with, and introducing myself to people coming in the door, it hit like a thunderbolt that I was missing a huge opportunity by not turning the ballroom into a supper club. I mean, here we sat with people lined up waiting for a table in the dining room, while I could seat three hundred in the ballroom. How stupid was that? I hustled my ass into the kitchen to ask Hector about it.
Hector was up to his ass in alligators as he supervised the barely controlled chaos that was his kitchen, but he stopped and heard me out. My question was: what would it take to serve up to four hundred dinners in an hour or two? His goggled-eyed response was three more chefs and a kitchen twice as big. Since the kitchen was an L-shaped wing off the main building, there was plenty of room to make it grow.
"Good," I said. "Starting Monday, we are going to make that happen. We'll only be serving that many on Friday and Saturday nights at first, so we'll work ourselves up to it."
It was closer to seven-thirty when Belle and Connie swept into the lobby, but the wait was worth every minute. They both looked stunning, Belle the classically beautiful blond in a shimmering burgundy gown, and Connie exotically beautiful in a demure white gown that buttoned to the throat. I was one freaking lucky caballero.
The two women walked with me to the upstairs dining room to see how it was doing. I swear I was prouder than a man had a right to be, when I saw the women we'd hired taking care of business up there. To go with my pride, I was sort of shocked to see Naomi Singleton wearing one of the dresses she'd designed as she carried a tray of drinks to a table. Naomi was a different person in that low cut and full skirted dress. She was vivacious and poised as she gracefully moved between the tables. Naomi was older than the rest of the women, and she was much fuller figured, but a number of the club members had eyes only for her.
I nudged Belle and pointed out Naomi. Belle did a double take when she saw her.
"I didn't ask her to come here, dear; she must have done it on her own. But doesn't she look smashing in that dress?"
Before I could answer, Naomi saw us. She smiled and walked swivel-hipped over to us.
"I hope you don't mind, but this job sounded like such fun, and the dresses were so flattering, I had to try it."
Once again a woman started talking before I could get a word in. This time it was Belle.
"You look good, and yes, I could use your help occasionally. However, you should have asked me about it first. You know I'll have to punish you for being so presumptuous."
Naomi gave a little shiver and whispered a husky, "Yes, Belle."
What the hell was that all about? I looked at Belle questioningly, but she just winked and took my arm.
"So cowboy, buy a girl a drink?" she asked sultrily.
I stayed with Belle for about five more minutes, until I became too antsy to sit still. I excused myself and went down to the members' desk. Ray Jarvis was manning the desk, along with a very pretty redhead that I'd hired away from the Longhorn. Old Ray looked like an admiral in the Turkish navy in the uniform I let him design for himself. He was wearing a silk trimmed black morning coat with gold epaulets on the shoulders, and grey trousers with a black silk stripe down the leg. Under the morning coat he wore a white ruffle front shirt and a purple cravat the size of a table cloth.
"Nice duds, Mister Jarveaux, you are truly a fashion trend setter," I said, tongue firmly in cheek.
Jarvis gave an exaggerated sigh and shook his head sadly.
"One tries Mister McGuinn, but I am afraid that these desert dwellers are woefully lacking in their understanding of men's fashion. Perhaps you'd allow me the liberty of updating your wardrobe as an example for them."
Yeah, like that was ever going to happen.
"That, you will have to discuss with Belle. She is already working on improving my sense of style."
I left the desk and peeked into the ballroom. The room was over half full now and it was only eight-fifteen. I walked over to the little booth built into the wall and spoke with my doorman. The door man collected the one dollar cover we were charging for the ballroom. A dollar was a steep price in these days, but each patron that paid the entry fee was given two tickets, each good for a free drink. Unescorted women were admitted free and given a ticket good for a free drink. The doorman also checked in the weapons of our guests that entered the building with one.
In addition to the doorman, I had three floor men who seated guests at the tables, helped keep the bars stocked, and doubled as bouncers if needed. Six of the women I'd hired were circulating among the tables, taking drink orders and keeping the tables bussed.
I stood and watched with pride as my people worked smoothly as a team. One thing my father taught me that I've found to be absolutely true was: "surround yourself with good people, give them the authority to do their job, and nine times out of ten they will make you look good."
I spotted Pen, Liz and the other partners sitting at two tables pushed together near the stage. I walked over to them, shook hands with the men and kissed the hands of the ladies. The only person at the table I didn't know was Wilfredo Acevedo's very pretty and very young wife. I had never been introduced to Clem's date, but I figured she had to be Li Chen.
The partners and their ladies all raved about the food and were looking forward to the floor show. The Hombres were already playing, but they were limiting themselves to all instrumental waltz music. There were even a few brave couples out on the floor swirling around. I sat with my partners for a few minutes, then excused myself at a quarter until nine.
I went from the ballroom to my office and changed into my new charro suit. I was much pleased that the suit fit me like a glove. At eight fifty-five, I was dressed and headed towards the stage, excited as a little kid about performing. I stood off to the side until the Hombres finished the song they were playing, and then climbed onto the stage to join them.
Conversation conveniently came to a stop when the band didn't start another number. I took the opening that gave me to give a little speech.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to the El Paso Ballroom. For the next hour or so, the Happy Hombres, a guest singer and I are going to entertain you with some music that I guarantee is unique to El Paso."
Ernesto let the applause die down, then gave a three count and the band launched into 'Ring of Fire'. As I had hoped, the extra horn really put some zing into that song. The band and I had scripted the order in which we were playing the songs, so we transitioned smoothly from one to the next. Ernesto had just finished warbling 'Celito Lindo', when Feleena walked into the ball room with a couple of the girls from Rosa's Cantina.
Ernesto saw Feleena first and started finger picking the intro to 'El Paso'. I had to smile when about half of the people in the room turned towards the door, held up their glasses and yelled, "FELEENA." Most everyone liked that song. I think that was because it was a catchy tune, and it talked about people and places they knew.
I think that Friday night was the most personally rewarding evening of my life. The grand opening went off without a hitch, and the only complaints I heard were over the wait for a table at Ramona's. We were already working on that problem, and would have an additional ten tables out on the patio available for Saturday night.
I was more than pleased with everything and everyone, but I had one more person I thought we needed to hire. While I was sitting with the partners after the first set, I mentioned it to the table in general.
"If any of you know of or hear of a piano player that wants a job, send them to see me. A good piano player would provide some nice dinner music, and be able to play while the Hombres took their breaks."
We had last call in the ballroom at half past midnight and by one, the place was empty. It took fifteen minutes to clear all the tables and put the chairs on them, and another fifteen minutes for me to count the night's receipts and lock them in the safe. We grossed just under eight hundred dollars that first night, against my expectation of six hundred. I locked the safe, updated my journal and headed to my apartment. I crawled into bed between Belle and Connie at two AM. I was exhausted, but about as pleased as a man had a right to be.
I was up at eight the next morning despite my long night. Connie hopped out of bed with me and we both took our clothes to dress in the other room to keep from disturbing the still snoozing Belle. Without eight hours of sleep and an hour to wake up, Belle was not a person you wanted to spend time with.
Once we were dressed enough to be seen in public, Connie and I hustled over to the bath houses for our morning ablutions. Connie giggled like crazy when I pulled her into the same private bathing room as me. Connie thought it was great that we could share a tub and wash each other's hard to reach places. I unbound and unbraided her thick shiny hair, then washed it while massaging her scalp with my fingertips. She absolutely loved that and insisted on returning the favor.
Later that morning, I was sitting alone in my office when someone rapped on the frame of the open door. I looked up and motioned the woman standing there to come in as I got to my feet. I looked her over as she walked towards me, wondering what she wanted with me. I wondered that because she was not the type of woman I was used to dealing with. She was very tall for a woman of the times and dressed in nondescript clothes that hid any hint of a figure. A pair of wire frame glasses with round lenses was perched on her aquiline nose. Her hair and eyes were both brown.
She marched up to my desk, stuck out her hand and said, "I'm here to apply for the pianist position."
She was about the last person in the world I'd have thought would apply for the job. I had visualized a guy in a derby hat with red garters on his sleeves and a stogie sticking out the corner of his mouth. I covered my surprise and asked her a few questions.
I found out her name was Wilhelmina Proctor, and she was a Methodist missionary from Philadelphia. She and her husband had come to New Mexico to convert the heathen Redman to the sweet mercy of her lord and savior. It was the understatement of the year that things hadn't gone as planned. Instead of saving souls and converting the natives, her husband became fascinated with the Apache culture. Before she knew it, her husband brought her to El Paso; dropped her off with her cousin Mabel Pruett, wife of Lowell, the owner of the mercantile; and went back to Arizona to be an Apache.
I asked Wilhelmina if she understood where she would be playing and who her audience would be, thinking that she might have misunderstood the nature of my club.
"I need a job and I have no problem with any of that, Mister McGuinn, as long as you don't try to make me a dancehall floozy," she said.
I was stumped as to what to do, when Belle and her sidekick Connie came breezing into the office. Both women gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek and then Belle looked at Wilhelmina inquisitively. I made the introductions, and explained that Missus Proctor was there applying for the piano player position. As I had hoped, Belle took over.
"We'd love to have you here, Wilhelmina. I'm sure it's just a formality, but let's go to my lounge and you can audition for me."
Belle turned and winked at me as she herded Connie and Wilhelmina out the door. That wink worried me some, because it was a sure sign that Belle was scheming something.
It was about two in the afternoon, and I was busy helping some of the cleaning crew move tables and chairs out onto the patio by the restaurant, when a grim faced Matt Faulkner tracked me down.
"Get your guns and come with me," he said tersely. "Charles Howard just killed Louis Cardis. Howard is over at the courthouse with Davenport right now. He's claiming self defense and looking to make bail. I don't have any jurisdiction in San Elizario, but the constable over there wants me to help him bring murder charges."
The first shots of the Salt War had been fired, and it happened just as my eighth grade history teacher said it had. When Howard was sure the Rangers were on their way, he murdered Cardis in revenge for his treatment in San Elizario.
I nodded and headed to my room for my gun belt.