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The trouble ‘bout Calamity, if you ask Bill, is she just can’t back down. How the good Lord canned a whole pack of mules’ worth of stubbornness into one small person he knows he’ll never understand. That’s what makes it fun to pick fights with her. He can fling her about and she’ll drag him right back into it, and both of them gotta have the last word. But they’ve been at each other’s throats long enough that know where they stand with each other, and for all the bickerin’ and spittin’ and shootin’, he knows Calam’s fierce and loyal and big-hearted, and she knows he’s steady and honest and quick on the draw.
And for all that her stories tend to be mighty exaggerated, Calam is brave when it calls for it. Katie coulda put a bullet right through her face, but she still held up her sarsaparilla. Perhaps she didn’t kill off a hundred injuns to bring back the lieutenant, but she did rescue him. She’s lost more than she ever had on the card table, same as him and most the other galoots in Deadwood, but she plays aggressive and there’s times it pays. When the whole town was gonna string Milly up from his own sign, she was up there defendin’ him. She just don’t think first.
But Calam’s ridden the stage long enough to know all the men in Deadwood get plum crazy when Milly brings in an actress, and it sure don’t hurt that she’s prettier than if Adelaid Adams walked right off the cigareet picture.
Seein’ Calam like this, wound tighter than a bullwhip and lashin’ out like a territorial bobcat, it’s got Bill worried, and he ain’t used to bein’ worried about Calam.
Now they’re out of town, he loosens off on the reins and lets the poor horse slow up to a trot. The air is cooler, and his ol’ friends the hills are wavin’ their pines in the breeze to brush the stars painted ‘cross the sky. There ain’t no hurt the open country can’t heal.
Calam is all elbows and sulkin’ beside him, refusin’ to look at him.
Course, he’s mighty impressed Katie stood her ground.
Katie’s no fool. She knows better than anyone that Calam’s in love with Danny. Everyone with ears knows Calam is in love with Danny. Danny knows Calam is in love with Danny, but he doesn’t respect her enough to be a gentleman about it. Lieutenant Gilmartin wants a bauble he can gawp at, and Calam - well, he ‘n’ Calam have been shootin’ at each other for long enough that he can say for sure she don’t sit still to be gawped at. No, the lieutenant’s happy to string her along and let her run errands for him out of the fort and save his hide from injuns and look up at him with that shine in her eyes, but he won’t tell her he don’t think of her like that. Mind you, might be he’s as scared of Calamity as most of the rest of the fellers in Deadwood, and for good reason. Can’t blame a man for lookin’ after his own hide. And now Katie Brown’s snared Lieutenant Gilmartin real good and he’s snared her right back, and Bill ain’t never seen Calam so agitated and foolish before.
And sure, Bill’s been stuck on Katie too – she’s charming and beautiful and he’s a red-blooded man - dreamin’ about buildin’ a cabin for her, not so far from town, comin’ off the claim to her home cookin’ and her pretty little mouth. They’d have a couple of younguns and she’d keep them all in order with the stern eye of a schoolmarm. It’d be peaceful and easy, and he’d have to keep out of trouble. How would his wife fend for herself if he got himself killed out on the trail or in some half-drunk gunfight?
Katie and the lieutenant, it makes sense, much as Bill hates to admit it. Few years’ time, he’ll finish his hitch and they can head back East. Maybe Katie’ll even sing on a big stage like Chicagee one day, if Danny’ll let her. If anything happened to him, she’d get his army pension. Lieutenant Gilmartin wants a wife he can protect from the world and be envied for. No-one’d envy him Calam or the trouble she brings everywhere she goes, and there’s no-one she needs protectin’ from ‘cept herself.
(Though he ain’t so sure Katie needs much protectin’ now neither.)
And protectin’ Calam from herself ain’t no easy game. Sometimes she’s gotta make her own mistakes, and sometimes she’s gotta be stopped for her own good. And they don’t call her Calamity for nothing - she’s unpredictable as a agitated mustang. You’d have to know her pretty dang well to counter her.
But who knows her better than Bill? Not that pretty-boy lieutenant of hers, that’s for dang sure. How could that soft-headed, smart-buttoned soldier ever hope to understand their kind of life?
Bill’s real trouble ‘bout Calamity goes back a long way, probably longer than he even knows.
Made sense to start with, wantin’ to hear the news when the stage came in, always hankerin’ to be at the heart of the action whenever one of her tall tales came unstuck. Making sure he’d be in town waitin’ when she arrived. And when she started introducin’ him to the new blood as the famous Bill Hickok, why oughtn’t he let her exaggerate his reputation as well? Then soon enough he feels himself watchin’ for her, gravitatin’ toward her whenever she’s around, if she ain’t already pulled her chair up at his table. Wonderin’ ‘bout where the stage is, while he’s out on the claim. Plannin’ to stay in town to wave her off.
One time, a few years back, she didn’t arrive to run the stage, and Bill rode straight out to her dusty ol’ cabin to find her sweatin’ a fever and still tryin’ to saddle up her horse. Had to carry her back to her bed and tuck the sheet ‘round her real tight so she couldn’t wriggle out. Whole time he was gone to fetch the doctor, his heart was a-poundin’, fearin’ they’d come across her on the trail, fallen off her horse and broken her neck.
He real and truly had hoped she might pick up some nice dresses or ribbons in Chicagee. ‘Stead she brought back Katie Brown, who managed to fix up the cabin and Calamity both.
And the shindig at Fort Scully? It was like seein’ a different woman. It wasn’t that pink monstrosity made him realise – he’s always known there was a woman inside those buckskins as well as a loyal friend and a damn good shot. But when she noticed all the soldiers were starin’ at her and her face lit up with that smile bright as the full moon, that’s when he oughta known he was real in trouble. Then she had to go and ruin it all by bein’ a damn good shot and a green-eyed female about Danny Gilmartin.
(First time he ever felt he needed to turn around when she was changin’ though, and he still can’t get the picture of her hurlin’ those cases out the door in her corset and drawers out of his head.)
He pulls up the horse by a stand of trees, a bit of cover in case of injuns. The night feels so quiet without the creakin’ of the wheels and the clip-clop of the horse. There ain’t even the rustle of the wind through the trees - it’s so still he can hear Calam breathin’ next to him, steady.
Of all Katie’s feminine charms, he reckons the best thing about her is how she notices things. She saw right through him and Danny struttin’ about like a pair of ruttin’ stags, played ‘em right off each other. Wouldn’t surprise him if she knew he was in love with Calam ‘fore he ever did. Calamity couldn’t have picked a better mistake to bring back from Chicagee, a right lady who never wanted to hurt her, who only wants what’s best for Calam. Like he does, come to think of it.
If Katie leaves on the stage tomorrow, she’ll take the heart of Deadwood with her, and Calam’ll never get a welcome in town again.
If he can knock some sense through that thick skull of hers, maybe he can stop this blowin’ up in Calam’s face.
“I seen you do lots of crazy things, Calam, but this is the first time I ever seen you make a blasted fool outta yerself. Now you sit down and listen. Yer a fake, Calam! You act, talk, ride and shoot like a man, but you think like a female – a green-eyed, snarlin’, spittin’ female! Katie beat you, she beat you twice – outta your man and outta the respect you used to have around here – and you helped her! And I did too.
“She didn’t shoot that glass outta yer hand, I did.”
“Why you -!”
Calam glares at him – her eyes are shiny with tears but it’s that same cold rage as when she picked up the gun at Fort Scully and told him to stand clear, with an extra sack of hurt and betrayal.
“You need a lesson! Who are you to tell people who to love?
“Suppose you did scare that girl outta town – would that get yer lieutenant back? That stop Katie from lovin’ him or him her? That’s female thinkin’. He’d bring her back an’ they’d both hate ya.”
She shrinks down beside him. He’s right, and she knows it. It should make him feel smug. He just feels kinda empty.
“You had to lose tonight, Calam, or you’d never win again.”
Her shoulders start to shake and she throws herself out of the buggy like his words burned her. He jumps down after her (gravitatin’ again) and steps round to where she’s sobbin’ hard into the horse’s mane.
“Go on, bawl. Admit yer female. Have yer hysterics an’ get ‘em over with. Feel better.”
It ain’t often bein’ ‘round Calam makes him behave like a gentleman, but seein’ her like this, he can’t just stand there. He fishes the handkerchief out of his pocket. Good thing he hadn’t had to use it today, he thinks as she takes it from him and dabs at her face.
“I was so plum crazy about ‘im.”
“Yeah, I know. Felt the same way about her.”
Calam turns to face him, all earnest surprise through the tears, clutchin’ his damp handkerchief.
“You mean, you’re in love with Katie?”
“Funny, ain’t in?”
“Oh Bill, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
She reaches for his wrist, limply. He ain’t sure she ever touched him this gently before. She sure ain’t ever apologised to him before. It’s all wrong. Makes his head spin. Needs to sit down, bench, tree stump, log, anything.
“Ahaw, s’alright. Take a little time, but, well, I’ll get over it. You will too.”
Katie’s a right pretty gal, but there’s plenty other pretty gals in the world. Not many round these parts who ain’t been spoken for, other’n Calam, but-
“No I won’t. Not Danny.”
He’ll never understand what Calam sees in that stuck-up clotheshorse of a boy. S’pose all the women in town swoon over each new company that come in, with their smart boots and clean shirts. ‘Specially a tall officer with a square jaw and all his own teeth.
“Yes, yer will.”
She’s followed him over, and she looks so broken his hand is at her elbow before he’s thought about it. He pulls her down to sit next to him and rests his arm across her shoulders. A strong shoulder rest against his chest. An elbow he’s felt the sharp point of many a time nestles against him.
“Oh Bill, all I’ve done for months is dream about him.”
“Yeah?”
“About gettin’ married, an’ buildin’ a cabin, havin’ young’uns.”
The idea of Calam tamed into the shape of a wife sittin’ in some cozy cabin knittin’ socks just ain’t quite right. It’s not the chores – any galoot can do chores, and Calam’s managed herself fine all this time – but the thought of Calam sittin’ still that seems impossible. And it’s even harder to imagine Calam as a mother - and if the whelps turned out to be like her? He can picture it: her chasin’ a squealin’ pale-haired hellion around her cabin, splashin’ into the crick. Him leanin’ against the door, laughin’ at them, and a little brown-haired girl tuggin’ at his arm, “Poppa, come on, Poppa!”…
Now where’d that come from?
“I know it sounds silly, I guess, but… oh Bill, I really wanted all those things.”
Oh, he hadn’t meant to look at her like that. Sure, it’s unexpected, but you learn to expect the unexpected with Calamity.
“Well, I was kinda hankerin’ for ‘em myself.”
“There’ll never be another man like him, not fer me, not ever.”
There’s that determination in her eyes, that spark even her tears can’t put out.
“Well, ain’t gonna be easy gettin’ her outta my system neither.”
Katie on that first night at the Golden Garter, with Calam protectin’ her from that angry crowd, then bein’ so plum proud of her and crushin’ her into that big bear hug. Katie movin’ out of the hotel, her perfect manners and Calam’s violent replies. Katie at the cabin, aghast at Calam’s mud-soaked dress while he and Danny laughed in the corner. Katie at the ball, sparklin’ like a diamond on Danny’s arm while Calam watched on with agitation then a mean fury that left him speechless.
(Calam, ridiculous, peltin’ those pink shoes and silk stockings into Katie’s suitcase, like she could hurt Katie with them.)
“She was so beautiful and…”
Katie insistin’ Calam would be beautiful. Calam in that dress, in his arms, spinnin’ round the floor at Fort Scully. Calam determined to bring Adelaid Adams to Deadwood. Calam tellin’ crazy stories over a sarsaparilla. Calam fresh off the stage, so glad to be home and ready to show off the best of Deadwood to everyone.
“beautiful and…”
Calam’s blue eyes starin’ back up at him, so close…
Her lips are warm as they press up to meet his. Her nose nudges into the side of his. He can taste the salt from her tears. Her shoulder digs into his chest as he grips her closer, his heart thuddin’ against his ribcage, tryin’ to break out and reach her itself.
He’d been ridin’ into town with Colorado the mornin’ before Calam left for Chicagee, tellin’ him all ‘bout their mudslingin’ match over whether she could bring Adalaid Adams to the Golden Garter and plannin’ what he could say to Calam to get her back up the most before she left. Charlie had laughed, of course, ‘specially at the idea of Bill in a squaw get-up, then he looked a little thoughtful.
“Ya think about her a lot, don’t ya?”
Bill had shrugged. “She’s entertainin’.”
He thought that had been the end of that conversation, ‘til they split ways at the end of the day and Charlie’d shouted after him, “Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding!”
“What weddin’?!” Bill had yelled back, but all he’d got in reply was Charlie’s echoing laughter.
(And so what if he’d spent most of that day out on the claim wonderin’ how Calam was gettin’ on with her search for Adalaid? Wasn’t every man in Deadwood?)
Good thing Colorado’s a good friend, always goes easy on him. If it’d been Calam, she’d never let him live it down. As it is, he’s sure she won’t, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. For all his bluster about doin’ without her, turns out he’d give up all the air in his lungs to keep her like this.
He pulls away, ever so slightly. She stays, just for a second, and he’s sure his heart dang near stops in his chest.
Then she gasps, and the realisation spreads across her face like the wind ripplin’ across a field of long grass.
“Oh Bill!”
She crushes herself into him, at first holding on for dear life, then releasing him gently, like their embrace is a rearing stallion. He kisses her cheek, breathes her in: the faint trace of washing soda from her shirt, the ever-present stable smell stuck so deep into her buckskins.
“Calam.”
He holds her then, wraps his arms around her slim shoulders as she says his name, so softly he can barely make it out. He’s so used to hearing her holler it at him or stamp out his name in anger. He lets it wash over him and leans into her. Clarity settles around him like dust in the wake of a wagon train.
She’s here, and she hasn’t slapped him or jumped into the buggy and driven off leaving him stranded. Which means he can afford to tease her, just a bit.
He holds her by the shoulders and sits back just a little. He feels a smile tuggin’ at the corner of his mouth.
“Hey… whatever happened to that lieutenant you was tellin’ me ‘bout while back?”
There, finally, is the Calam he knows, with that grin she gets on when she’s showing off Deadwood, or out in the open country. Hadn’t known how much he’d missed it.
“I never heard of him.”
He can’t help himself but kiss her again.