Wilde West by Walter Satterthwait

the scope of human understanding and achievement.
    Everything this morning, including Oscar, was divine and immortal.
    Henry emerged from the closet carrying the green velvet jacket and a white silk shirt with a ruffled front. “You be wantin’ the knee britches?”
    â€œTrousers, I think,” said Oscar. “The black ones. And the patent leather shoes. Black stockings.” Conservative, subdued. Mustn’t overwhelm the woman on our first rendezvous.
    Henry nodded, set the jacket and shirt upon the quilted bedcover, then returned to the closet.
    Had she appeared in his dreams, this miraculous Elizabeth McCourt Doe? Had she stalked through them like a red tigress, those violet eyes glowing in the night?
    What a thoroughly stunning, what a remarkable, woman.
    And soon, in only an hour or so, he would see her again.
    Poor Vail had been entirely against this breakfast tryst. Outside Tabor’s mansion, climbing into the carriage behind the business manager, Oscar had asked him, “Why the sudden departure? I thought we were supposed to charm this Tabor fellow.” He pulled the carriage door shut.
    â€œYeah?” said Vail. He plucked the cigar from his mouth and turned to him. “You figure raping his doxy, that’s gonna charm the guy?”
    Oscar was clapped back against the seat as the carriage lurched forward. “Raping? What on earth are you talking about?” But glad that the darkness hid the sudden blush that bloomed across his face.
    Vail shook his head. “Jesus Christ, Oscar, I gotta tell you, I never saw anything like it. The two of you were going at each other like a pair of minks. Right in front of the guy. Another five minutes and you would of been humping right there on the floor. Yeah, that would of charmed him pretty good, I guess.”
    Oscar made his voice curdle with disdain. “ Humping ?” (But, unbidden, inescapable, the vision flashed across the back of his brain: he and the woman atop the Persian carpet, a tangle of white arms and legs, a tumble of red hair.)
    â€œLook,” Vail said. “You got to forget this breakfast deal tomorrow.”
    â€œDon’t be absurd. I’ve already told them I’ll be there. He asked me himself. You heard him.”
    â€œOscar, I’m telling you, the woman is poison. Poison. You get involved with her and Tabor’s gonna find out. Nah, you think. Not him. Sure, right, he looks like a dope. He acts like a dope. He is a dope, prob’ly. But he’s rich, Oscar boy. He’s powerful. And people like to tell stuff to rich folks. The servants, the neighbors. Believe you me, he’ll find out. And he’s not gonna take it kindly, you putting the hose to his chippy.”
    â€œPutting the hose ?”
    â€œHe could hurt you, Oscar. Hurt you bad.”
    â€œThe man is three feet tall, Vail. What will he do, kick me in the shins?”
    As the streetlight passed across Vail’s face, his eyes narrowed. “What do you figure it costs, a town like this, filled with six-guns, for him to get someone to plug you?”
    â€œI couldn’t begin to imagine.”
    â€œAbout thirty-five cents.”
    â€œThis is ridiculous,” Oscar said. “I’m merely going to breakfast. Nothing more.”
    Vail shook his head firmly. “You got to forget it.”
    â€œNow see here, Vail. When it comes to my business dealings—costs, finances, guarantees—I’m perfectly happy to listen to your no doubt sage advice. Providing sage advice is what you’re paid for, after all. But outside the framework of commerce, my life is my own. I’ve been asked to breakfast with Mrs. Doe. I am going to breakfast with Mrs. Doe. Is that understood?”
    â€œOscar boy, there ain’t nothing at all that’s outside the framework of commerce.”
    Oscar frowned in annoyance. “A typically American remark. In Europe, even in England, we understand that life