Page 12 of The Last Warrior

“Of course, Irena. Anything.”

“Do you have a private location where my granddaughter might retire until you and I are finished with our business?”

“Naturally, I do,” said Cody. “My own quarters are stationed in back of this tent.”

“Perfect,” voiced Irena.

“I have no need for privacy,” murmured Suzette. “We will be going home soon.”

“Yes, yes, dear, of course. But I have a matter of some business with Mr. Cody, and there is no need to bore you with it.”

“I do not believe I would be bored,” uttered Suzette. “Please tell me.”

Yet Irena was not to be coerced into revealing even the slightest detail of her business to Suzette. In fact, with a smooth smile and a quietly spoken, “Would you excuse us, please?” Irena took hold of Suzette’s arm and calmly ushered her away.

“By all means.” Buffalo Bill nodded as they left. “My personal tent is that way, ladies.” He pointed out the direction.

“Thank you, Mr. Cody.” Irena smiled, and the two women took their leave.

“Irena,” asked Suzette as soon as they were out of earshot. “What do you mean business with Mr. Cody? I don’t⁠—”

“A moment, Suzie. Let us attain a more private place. One where we can talk.”

“Very well. But business…? I don’t understand. What possible business could you have with Mr. Cody? And though I did wish to speak to you alone, I did not realize we needed privacy.”

“Yes. We do.”

“Hmm,” said Suzette. “This sounds as though it might not be to my liking.”

“We shall see.”

Buffalo Bill Cody’s quarters, it turned out, were comprised of a rather large tent, which was guarded by a few burly-looking cowboys.

“This way.” Irena shot a smile to each cowhand in turn. One of them opened the tent flap for the women.

“Do you know those men?” asked Suzette.

“Hardly,” said Irena.

They had entered a large area with cozy armchairs and a sofa. Although the scent of a gaslight perfumed the place, the air seemed fresher in here than outside the tent, where the atmosphere reeked of horseflesh and smoke. On the floor of the room were lush rugs. In the room’s corners, scattered here and there, were testaments to the Wild West—a buffalo robe, a quiver full of arrows, a wampum belt.

“Come, Suzie. Let us sit and talk.”

Suzette nodded and took her seat on a large, red and rather comfortable chair. Irena sat across from her.

“I am working over some business with Mr. Cody,” Irena explained.

“Yes, this much I have heard you say. But pray, what kind of business?” Suzette frowned.

“If you must know, I am thinking about joining the show.”

For a moment, Suzette was speechless. “Joining the show? You mean…traveling with them?”

Irena nodded.

“Leaving here?”

“Yes.”