I always
wanted to go to Denver.
No special reason. A liking for the name’s all it was, but that liking became a
calling when I had to get out of Blogsville. A month’s ride, I figured, but a week
in the saddle is seven days enough for a man in need of a drink. Eighty miles
to the good on my promise to the sheriff, I followed a sign post to Stirrup
Creek, a mining town on the Muddy
River.
I’ve been
in towns all over the west, Tucson,
Dodge and all the rest, yet I rarely saw so much temptation in one place. A
drink, a whore and a bed for the night would have suited me fine, if the price
of a bottle hadn’t left me broke. No matter, another night under the stars hurt
none. Sleep don’t come easy anyhow, when your mind’s chasing a hundred ways of
making a living.
Sometime next morning I woke in a pasture, sure I could hear music.
Leastways I thought so but when I raised my aching bones, weren’t nothing to be
heard but birdsong and the trickle of piss, as I irrigated the grass between my
feet. Seemed my mind had been playing tricks on me, but even as I packed my
bedroll and saddled my horse, the music came back. Sounded like a circus coming
to town.
At a corral on the edge of town, folks were gathered around a covered
wagon, where a little fella in a big hat and a dandy suit turned the handle on
a barrel organ. Hell, what a disappointment. I hoped to see an elephant or a
rhi-noseerus or something, not some sawn-off fairground hustler. Well, the
music stopped and the little fella turned to his audience. Tugging on his lapels,
he puffed himself up to a good five foot two before speaking.
‘Gather
round ladies and gentlemen, gather round. Mayhew’s the name, shooting’s the
game. I see a lot of fine people before me; people who wear guns and know how
to use them. Why, the evidence of my eyes is clear, the finest shots in Stirrup
Creek are right here. But how good are you? And how fast are you? For a small
stake here’s your chance to find out, with a guaranteed ten dollar prize for
the winner. Now, who’s first?’
Amidst a whole
lot of mumbling, the first volunteer shuffled forward. Then a fulsome beauty at
the rear of us set to work.
‘C’mon
boys, here’s your chance to impress me. It might be the one chance you get, so
what are you waiting for?’
Holding a
banner high, she sashayed into the crowd and my, was she something special. With
a swish in her hips that’d shake a dime out of any man, she started a stampede
that had Mayhew snatching money as fast as he could, and piling it into
his hat.
‘Say
Mister, you’re packing a gun. What’s holding you back? Don’t you wanna show a
girl how good you are?’
Lord my
sinful mind, what a woman. I most surely did, but she passed me by without a
second glance when I told her I was broke. I’ll admit to feeling a mite sorry
for myself when her sauntering ass disappeared into the crowd, but even as I turned
to skulk away, an old timer sidled over.
‘Forgive
my intrusion son, but I couldn’t help eavesdropping. Tell me, can you use that
gun as well as I think you can?’
For a
grizzled old buzzard with more food in his whiskers than I'd eaten in
days, he wasn’t a bad judge. ‘Better than most,’ I said.
He pressed
a dime into my hand. ‘Here, take this and show them what you can do. I was good
with a gun once. My eyes ain’t so sharp these days, but that don’t mean I don’t
know a winner when I see one.’
For a moment
I was plain stuck for words. Thanking the old fella didn’t seem enough, but I
thanked him anyway, best I could.
After
drawing straws we played off, one to one, six shots apiece at ten paces,
firing at wooden backed wanted posters. Sure bruised my pride to miss with my
first shot but from thereon, my shooting was clean. My five out of six easily
beat the nothing score of a greenhorn who couldn’t hit a barn door with a
shotgun.
After five
rounds we were shooting from twenty paces against a count of ten. The
contenders were coming through, the best being a kid with a steady hand and an
ice cold stare. If he missed a single shot, I didn’t see it and it came as no
surprise to see him beside me in the final shoot out.
From
twenty five paces I hit six out six. He matched me, and when he did it a second
time, so did I. Same thing happened thrice
more. When it seemed nothing was gonna separate us, Mayhew suggested we split
the prize. That was fine by me, but not so agreeable to the kid.
‘You
expect me to share with the likes of him?’ he said.
Course I
didn’t take kindly to his words or his sneer, but I’ve been around long enough
to know there’s a time for keeping a cool head, and a time for kicking someone’s
teeth out in a dark alley.
‘Alright!’
said Mayhew, ‘we’ll settle this by cigarette. Maybelle!’
Settling
something by cigarette was a new one on me. I was still scratching my head when
his shapely helper wiggled into view with a cigarette stick. After taking a bow,
she propped herself against the corral fence.
Mayhew got
up on his tiptoes again. ‘Gentlemen, let me introduce you to the beautiful Maybelle.
As a means to settling this contest Maybelle will place a cigarette in the
holder. She will then place the holder in her mouth. Our finalists – Hollister
Byrne and Levitt E. Valance – will take turns apiece at shooting the cigarette.
When one of them misses, and the other one hits, we’ll have our winner; may the
best man win. Mister Valance, you’re first.’
Amidst a
lot of whooping and cheering, Maybelle made quite a play of handling that stick
and fixing a cigarette in the tip. Meantime, I just concentrated and waited for
hush.
‘Your call,
Valance.’
‘Okay Miss
Maybelle. Put it in your mouth, I’m about ready to shoot.’
‘Mister, you sure know how to make a girl blush.’
Well, a cheer
erupted and, the proceedings turned to chaos as people doubled up with laughter.
Maybelle laughed, Mayhew laughed, I laughed. Seemed everybody laughed but that
miserable kid.
Once everyone had settled down, we tried again. I thought I’d cleared my
head but even as I squeezed the trigger, the yippety shakes came back and feared
of hitting Maybelle, I pulled the shot, firing high and wide.
Course the
kid had no such trouble. The surly cuss blasted the cigarette in half, no
trouble at all. Win some; lose some, that’s how it goes. You shrug it off and
walk away. As the crowd dispersed I wandered into the deserted corral and found
a perch to sit and roll a cigarette. Solitude is good for the soul, only guilt
got a hold on me when I remembered the old man who’d staked me, and no amount
of cigarettes could change to that.
I’d been
there an hour or more when a loud ‘Hey Mister!’ jumped me out of my melancholy.
It was Maybelle.
‘My husband
would like to talk to you.’
A moment
of uncertainty passed when I realized she meant Theodore Mayhew. How an old
rascal like him had hooked a fine looking woman like her was none of my
business, though I couldn’t help wondering anyway. I caught up with him outside
the General Store, where he was loading supplies onto his wagon. Leastways I
think he was. The way he was grunting over a sack of flour, I couldn’t tell if
he was lifting it or making love to it.
‘How would
you like to earn some easy money?’ he asked, twixt a lot of puffing and
panting.
Hell, what
sweet music. I had that wagon loaded in no time, earning dinner in a fancy
restaurant while he got down to business.
‘We made
an eight dollar profit today,’ said Mayhew. ‘Not a bad day’s work, I know, but
it could be so much better. I have the brains, Maybelle has the beauty. What’s
missing is someone like you. Together, the three of us could be rich.’
Rich always gets my
interest. I told him to go on.
‘I’ll cut
to the quick; I need a mysterious stranger to ride in on the day of the contest
and take the prize.’
‘Hmm, this
mysterious stranger… his prize wouldn’t happen to be a three way share in a
whole pot of money, would it?’
Mayhew
beamed. ‘Simple, isn’t it? I’ve had the idea for some time. I’ve just been
waiting for the right man. Today I found him. You are that man.’
‘What
about the kid? He won, remember?’
‘No, not
him. His kind are too dangerous, and I don’t think he’d have beaten you but for
Maybelle.’
It ain’t the
worst idea I’ve ever heard, a little sneaky maybe, but nothing that compromised
my principles. They knew how to shake the money tree, that’s for sure, and I’d
back myself against most men, but most ain’t all and there’s always a chance
someone could get lucky. ‘What if someone better than me comes along?’ I asked.
‘I’ll fire
you and hire him,’ he said.
I had to
admire his pragmatism. I hoped he’d admire mine when I told him I needed a bath,
a bed, and the means to take care of my horse at the feed and grain store. I
suggested a twenty dollar advance. He turned me down.
‘Let’s
make it ten,’ he said.
I leaned
across the table and gave him the evil eye. ‘I’ll settle for fifteen. A nickel
less and you can watch your ticket to riches walk right out of that door.’
We shook
hands on fifteen. Course I was bluffing. I never meant to squeeze Mayhew, but
when providence deals an ace, it deals it for a reason. Five dollars covered my
mortal needs. The rest satisfied a spiritual need; it warmed my soul to catch
up with the old fella that staked me and see his ten dollar smile. I slept like
a baby that night and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t all down to clean sheets and a
soft pillow. Next morning I was up with the birds. Bathed, shaved and smelling
like roses, I saddled my horse and met up with the Mayhews.
Out on the
plains I rode on the wagon, where a spell at the reins got me a good look at
Maybelle. Sure was a fine built woman. A little broad at the hip maybe, but
that’s no bad thing. Ain’t nothing like a good loving woman with a few extra
pounds for giving as good as she gets. And her hair, well, she had the kind of
hair that inspires a man to poetry. In big wavy tresses it tumbled to her
shoulders, shiny as the dew and black as a winter crow. I figured she couldn’t
have been much older than thirty, thirty five at most. Way too young for a man
like Mayhew, who had to be sixty or more. Strange woman though. One minute she
was sitting beside me, all sweet and smiley, next minute she was sour faced and
climbing into the back of the wagon.
Course
Mayhew had plenty to say. No conversation was ever gonna run dry with him
around. Just got a little one sided, that’s all. I got no objection to someone
telling me where they were born, where they were raised and the size of the
eggs that were laid by their chickens. It all helps pass the time. And I got no
objection to hearing about a life on the fair, an acrobat Pa, and a Ma who
earned a living as a bearded lady, but I sure got sick of hearing nothing else
from noon till sundown.
‘Goodnight
Mister Valance,’ he said, when we turned in for the night. ‘I’m glad you’re
with us, and not just because your presence gives us protection from hostiles
and road agents and the like.’
I pulled
my hat over my face, and wondered how he handled hostiles and road agents
before I came along. Maybe he talked them to death.
It amused
me some to find myself on the road to Oblivion. Ain’t much of a town but Mayhew
said it was big enough to trial his plan. He and Maybelle would get to work
right away, and have everything set for me riding in next day.
Well, it
couldn’t have worked out better. Everything went just the way Mayhew planned
it, easy as picking pork from a pig tree. An eighteen dollar pot ain’t a bad
start, only I didn’t see a cent of it. After claiming three dollars for
expenses, the little jasper split the balance three ways and pocketed my share,
with a reminder that I still owed him ten dollars.
We didn’t
do so good at Ledger's Crossing, rained all the time we were there, but Pine
Ridge and Alvaro made up for that. Mariette went well too. By the time we hit
Redwood… well, you never saw anything so slick. I mean real slick. I came out
of there with dollar bills stuffed down my boots. In a matter of weeks we’d
cleaned out every town twixt Coburg
and Flat Rock. I even acquired myself a money belt. Imagine that, huh? Seemed
we could do nothing wrong. Then came Bayfield.
‘I like
the smell of this place,’ said Mayhew, when we set eyes on the biggest town
yet. ‘I can smell money, big money, the kind of money that’ll take three days
to shake loose.’
Since he’d
got everything right till then, I had no mind to quarrel. I just couldn’t see
why I had to spend three days out on the prairie when I could be having a good
time in town and sleeping in a cozy hotel bed.
‘We can’t
be seen together before the contest, you know that,’ Mayhew said. ‘People might
get mistrustful.’
‘Then
we’ll pretend we don’t know each other,’ I said. ‘Less it pains you to pass me
by.’
‘Don’t
flatter yourself, Mister Valance. Pretending I don’t know you will present no difficulty
whatsoever. Alright, follow us into town if you must, but I insist you give us
two hours clear. As of right now, not another word shall pass between us until
the contest is over.’
Oh my, did
I have a time. I think. Seems I got drunk as a skunk for three days. When I
came to, I was laid out in the back of the wagon on the way to Juniper Springs.
When I asked Maybelle what happened, she hushed me and told me to go back to
sleep.
Mayhew was
grumpy for a while. Understandably, I guess, since it must have cut him deep to
pay out the prize money. I found out later he was all for firing me and leaving
me behind, till Maybelle talked him round.
‘One more
chance and that’s all you’re getting,’ he said, when he lowered himself to
speak to me again.
Since the
ways of a woman have bamboozled man for two thousand years, I don’t readily subject
myself to sufferance, yet I couldn’t help wondering why Maybelle stuck up for
me. I just couldn’t work her out. One minute she’d be sugar sweet, next minute
her face was longer than an undertaker’s coat. Then just when I’d get to
thinking she hated my guts, she’d be touching my arm and laughing and joking. I
wondered about that, too. Partial as I am to a lady’s attentions, it
discomforts me greatly to receive them in front of her husband, but if Mayhew
minded, he never said. Truth is I don’t think he even noticed.
I redeemed
myself at Juniper Springs. Ain’t modest to say, I know, but I blasted everyone
out of sight. Maybelle was all smiles, and I even got a pat on the back from
Mayhew. Hell, I must have been good.
Buffalo
Station; Zachariah; Cooper
Falls; we fleeced them
all. Kingdom Wells too, though we almost came unstuck when we were seen leaving
together. The sheriff caught up with us a mile out of town, and though Mayhew’s
flim-flam got us off the hook, we were told never to come back.
I guess it’s
easy to get complacent when things are running smoothly Setting aside a run in
with some scavengers, we had little trouble on our travels between towns, but
if we’d rode our luck till then, it ran out when Maybelle went down with a
fever. A day later Mayhew got it. Stuck in the middle of nowhere, I made camp
and went looking for weeds. Sounds dumb, I know. I’d probably think so too if
I’d never met Old Dan Wise. Must be twenty years or more since Dan taught me
about weeds, but I’ve never forgotten.
A potion
of boiled fireweed and skunkbush berries don’t smell so good. Don’t taste so
good either, but it’s a fine thing for treating a fever. I got Maybelle to take
a few sips before she drifted back to sleep, but Mayhew just wasn’t for
drinking.
‘C’mon,
this’ll do you good,’ I hollered.
I don’t
know if the distrustful cuss thought I was trying to poison him, but he
wouldn’t touch a drop till he’d seen me try some. I got my own back though. Just
as soon as I got the mug to his lips, I pinched the little bastard’s nose and
poured it down his throat till he passed out.
Sitting by the fire that night I did some
serious thinking. Medicine ain’t enough, sick people need nutrients and since
there were was no shortage of possums around… well, critter soup, boiled up
with weeds and berries did me no harm, and I spoon fed my patients three times
a day with no complaints. Other than keeping a fire going and making sure they
were warm and comfortable, that’s about all I could do.
Two, maybe
three days later I heard Mayhew yelling. I ran to the wagon and found him
sitting up with sweat pouring off his face. ‘A hundred dollars! We’ll offer a
prize of a hundred dollars!’ he said.
Poor fella
was out of his mind. After hushing him and turning his pillow, I got him to lie
down again and once I’d cooled his brow, he soon settled. Then I saw Maybelle,
eyes wide open, smiling at me. I asked if she was fever crazy too.
She shook
her head. ‘Not anymore.’
‘How are
you feeling?’
‘A little
weak, but I’m alright, I think.’
Maybelle
joined me for coffee. After talking awhile, mostly about weeds and fevers, she leaned
in close and slipped her arm around mine, and went all soft and womanly on me.
‘What are
you looking for, Valance?’
‘What do
you mean?’
‘What are
you looking for, in life?’
Hell, I
didn’t know what to say. When a woman talks soft and starts asking questions,
I’m inclined to wonder where the trip wire is.
‘Me? I’m
looking for nothing.’
‘Then what
are you running from?’
‘Who says
I’m running?’
‘Half the world’s
looking for something. The other half is running from something, so my Pa used
to say. So, if you’re not looking for something, what are you running from?’
I rolled a
cigarette while I thought about it. Then I spilled the whole sorry story of why
I had to leave Blogsville.
‘And the
sheriff made you leave town?’
‘He didn’t
make it easy to stay.’
‘That’s
awful. I’m sorry. Did you… did you leave a woman behind?’
More than
one woman came to mind, but a simple yup
saved things getting complicated.
‘Is she
waiting for you?’
‘I don’t
know, maybe,’ I said, as a vision came to mind of Housty sitting on the porch.
‘Could be she’s gazing into the hills right now, just yearning for the day I
come home.’
Surprise
surprise, Maybelle got all edgy again. Before I could ask if she was alright, she’d
upped and ran. To where I don’t know, and I didn’t much care. Course I worried
about her after, especially when she didn’t show up till after dark, and I only
knew then ‘cause I heard her fixing supper. I figured she’d come around in her
own time and she did, and though I was grateful for the beans and cornbread she
brought me, her countenance warned me to thank her politely and leave it at
that.
She seemed
better next morning. Quiet maybe, but she took a mug of coffee whilst brushing
her hair. Mayhew was back on his feet too, complaining about a bad taste in his
mouth. Bad taste or not, it didn’t stop him talking. Seemed the fever had gone
but not the notion of a hundred dollar prize.
‘Why the
blazes would you offer a hundred dollars?’ I asked.
‘So I can
charge a dollar entrance fee,’ he said, with a grin as wide as his little fat
face.
I told him
he was loco. ‘That’s a day’s pay to most men, and men don’t part with a day’s pay
so easy.’
If I
thought I’d killed the idea, I thought wrong. Mayhew wasn’t letting go. While
he set to some hard thinking, I threw another log on the fire and boiled some
fresh coffee.
‘I’ve got
it! We’ll make it five hundred… and we’ll only charge fifty cents! They’ll enter
in their hundreds, thousands even! Think of the money we’ll make.’
‘Yup, and
think of the cost if someone outshoots me.’
‘They
won’t if you keep off the booze. If we hit the big towns and cities we’ll make
a thousand dollars a time. Carson City
isn’t that far away. We could be there in a month, maybe less if we cross the
Winnemucca plain.’
‘We can’t
go that way, that’s Paiute country.’
‘Why not?
They’ve never given me any trouble.’
‘Could be
there’s an old Injun chief out there with a long memory and a grudge.’
Mayhew
gave me one of his suspicious looks. ‘What kind of grudge?’
‘Some
years ago Chief Bad Face gave me a hatful of gold for some rifles. We sealed
the deal with firewater.’
‘And?’
‘I never
got around to going back with the rifles.’
‘Then
we’ll go south of Winnemucca and head for Fort Churchill.’
‘Nope,
can’t go there.’
‘Why? Has
some old army colonel got a grudge against you, too?’
‘No, but a
lieutenant with a pretty wife might.’
‘I won’t
trouble myself to ask why. If you’ll forgive me saying Mister Valance, you’re a
man with a colorful past. Now, if there’s a way of getting to Carson City
without endangering your scalp, your accoutrements or your general wellbeing,
perhaps you’d care to share it?’
I liked
Mayhew, but he sure knew how to make me squirm. I proposed that we strike north
to Sweetlove, clear of Paiute territory, then west to Carson City. A practical solution, I figured,
but Mayhew didn’t like it. He didn’t say so, but he didn’t have to. I sensed it
in the silence as he traded anxious glances with Maybelle.
‘Or we
could backtrack a little and circle around Fort Churchill,’
I said, throwing them a rope.
We
backtracked.
A showman
all his life, Theodore Mayhew knew what he was doing, but when greed gets hold
of a man, he takes risks he don’t have to. To my mind a five hundred dollar
prize is an invitation to trouble and with every gunslinger in the territory
likely to take part, my chances of winning were…well, no matter how I looked at
it, I couldn’t help thinking a small slice of something was better than a large
slice of nothing with a cherry on top. Not Mayhew though, he got more excited
with each passing day. ‘I’ll get posters printed, lots of them. Tickets too,’
he said. ‘Hot diggety, we’ll draw the biggest crowd Carson City has ever seen!’
I kept my
thoughts to myself. Ain’t that I begrudged the little fella his hopes and dreams,
I just didn’t care for the weight being heaped on my shoulders, and as the days
went by, that weight got heavier. Bathing in the creek gave me an excuse to get
away for a while, but there was no escape from my troubled mind.
I’d been
there some time, just cooling in the water, when Maybelle came by.
‘Do you
mind if I move these?’ Without waiting for a reply, she tossed my clothes to
the ground and perched herself on the rock where I’d left them. ‘You’ve been
out here so long I was getting worried about you.’
The last
thing I needed right then was a highly strung woman. Truth is I wasn’t in the
best of moods myself. Could be I was a mite fractious, even.
‘Is
something wrong?’
‘Nope.’
‘Are you
sure? You’ve been awful quiet lately’
‘Nope,
nothing’s wrong, leastways nothing that a bottle of whiskey and a frisky woman
couldn’t put right.’
Maybelle’s
laughter set me at ease. A problem shared ain’t quite a problem halved but it helped
some.
‘You’ve
nothing to worry about,’ said Maybelle, when I’d done spilling my troubles. ‘I’ll
make sure you win, just like I did in Pine Ridge… and Mariette, when I called
you for six when you only hit five, or Buffalo Station, where you should have
been out in the first round.’
Quicker
than I could raise my eyebrows, a wicked smile spread across her face.
‘Everyone
trusts the little lady calling the shots. Only I’m not quite the little lady they
think I am.’
Since
she’d never once taken her eyes off my hoopladoopla, I didn’t doubt it.
‘Water’s
nice and clear, isn’t it?’ she said.
‘You
shouldn’t be looking.’
‘I never
saw one that big before.’
Lord, I
was sorely tempted but with Mayhew close by, I figured I’d better get my
clothes on before the devil took a bow and led me astray.
‘Well, I
never had you down as the bashful kind,’ said Maybelle, when I’d tucked
everything in and buttoned up.
‘Yup,
Mister Bashful, that’s me.’
‘I don’t
believe you.’
Hell, I
didn’t believe it either, but every dog has its day and once in a while my head
overrules my pants. ‘Believe what you like,’ I said. ‘Won’t matter anyway, if
you’re gonna run along now and ignore me for the rest of the day.’
Maybelle
smiled again. Then she got up on her tippy toes and kissed my cheek.
‘What was
that for?’
‘For being
mean to you. I’m sorry.’
Maybe I
should have said sorry too. I know I can be a prickly cuss sometimes, and it
ruffled my feathers to hear what she said about my shooting, but a question
needed asking.
‘What are
you running from?’
‘Who
says I’m running?’
‘Half the
world’s looking for something, you said. I see how that applies to Mayhew, but
not you. That makes you a runner, so suppose you spit it out?’
Maybelle lowered
her head. Seemed another flounce was coming, till I saw her shaking. When she
found her voice again she talked slow, real slow.
‘A man… a
man who’ll kill me if he ever finds me.’
‘Why?’
‘Because
that’s the kind of man he is.’
‘Has this
got anything to do with Sweetlove?’
Maybelle
nodded.
‘How long
have you been running?’
‘A year.’
‘And you
really think he’s still looking for you?’
‘I know he
is. Ain’t a day goes by that I don’t get the feeling he’s out there somewhere,
closing in.’
‘Couldn’t
you have gone to the sheriff or something?’
Maybelle
shook her head and said something about a lawless town. For a moment I thought
she was gonna cry. She didn’t, but she sure got angry and the words she used in
her hate for that man… well, she sure didn’t learn them in Sunday school.
It must be
a terrible thing to live in fear so long: scared of dying; scared of living. Poor
Maybelle. It explained a lot of things but confiding in me helped, I reckon,
since we got along better after that. Sure, she still had her bad times, but a
steady hand and a quiet word pulled her through, and I was happy to tag
along when she wanted to bathe in the river one day. Said she’d feel safer if I
went with her.
‘But I
expect you to behave like a gentleman’ she said, when we got there.
I gave her
my word. Then like a good gentleman I peeped through my fingers.
Nobody was
gonna harm Maybelle while I was around, though it flummoxed me why they should
want to. I just couldn’t make sense of it. Then I got to wondering how she and
Mayhew came together, and when. Something wasn’t right. They just didn’t act
like a married couple; for one thing they were too darned polite to each other.
And they didn’t sleep together. Hell, they didn’t even bathe together. Yup, it
all seemed mighty strange.
A month
out of Kingdom Wells, we crossed the Carson River.
Late that afternoon, on a hill above Eagle
Valley, Mayhew did a jig.
Before us, Carson City
stretched as far as the eye could see. From the railroad to the east, to the
workings of the Comstock Silver Mine on the far side of the valley, sure was a
wonderful sight.
‘Look at
it, just look at it!’ he said. ‘There must be a couple of thousand dollars
waiting for us down there! Maybe three!’
Course me
and him had another squabble when he suggested I stay out in the hills till
Saturday.
‘Are you
kidding? Today’s Monday. Saturday’s five days away.’
‘Correct,
Mister Valance. I owe you an apology. You’re a lot smarter than I give you
credit for.’
‘Putting
aside the fact that I ain’t had a drink for a month and I’m low on tobacco,
what am I supposed to do till then?’
‘How about
some shooting practice?’
Hell, that
Mayhew sure knew how to get me riled. Maybelle settled things with a quiet
supplication. ‘Please Theodore, I’d feel much safer if he’s close by.’
Mayhew
backed down, but his final word was conditional. ‘Alright!’ he said. ‘But stay
out here until tomorrow! And stay out of our way till the contest. And stay
away from liquor, you hear?’
I heard,
loud and clear. Just as soon as the puffed up little toad had done jabbing his
finger in my face, I got my saddle from the wagon, and unhitched my horse.
After
watching the wagon get swallowed up in the valley, I stretched out for some
rest. I figured I’d sneak down at sundown for some tobacco and a bite to eat,
and maybe a quiet drink before finding a bed for the night, only it wasn’t to
be. Next thing I knew I was shivering in the dark. After crawling on my hands
and knees, I found my bedroll and went back to sleep.
Mayhew hadn’t
wasted any time, I found out, when I rode into town and stabled my horse next
morning.
‘How long
do you want me to hold him for?’ the man at the livery asked.
‘A few
days, that’s all.’
‘You’ll be
here for the shooting contest then.’
‘What
contest?’ I said, all pure and innocent. Course I had to suffer his yap awhile,
but he did me a favor when I left, directing me to an eating house across the
street. ‘You won’t get a better breakfast in the whole state of Nevada,’ he said, and he
was right. Hot bread, fried potatoes, boiled ham and vegetables had my ribs so fit
to bust that it was a small mercy to get outside and suck in some fresh air.
Well, lo and behold, what should be the first thing I see?
And when I
got some tobacco…
And strolled
down the street…
And passed the laundry…
Hell,
those posters everywhere. And I mean everywhere.
And
everywhere I went, everyone was talking about the same thing. A backstreet
watering hole seemed as good a refuge as any but inside…
…barflies
were already picking winners and laying bets on local heroes. Since the fastest
gun in the west lives in just about every town I’ve ever known, I had no mind
to listen, though I couldn’t help hearing strong backing for a man named Brogan,
and someone called Hollister Byrne; there was something familiar about that
name, only I just couldn’t place it. Someone from way back, I figured, as I
drank up and moseyed on over to the bathhouse.
I felt a
whole lot fresher when I came out of there. Got my clothes washed, too. Since I
was just a shave away from being a new man, I went looking for a barbershop, only
I found myself standing outside a high class whorehouse…
…and ended up staying the
night. Some folks frown upon my sinful ways, I know, but I never spent two
dollars better. Ain’t sure what time I got to sleep but when I did; I slept like
a log till noon next day.
A
cigarette and a cup of coffee set me up fine for an afternoon stroll, yet I’d
no sooner stepped out of the coffee house when I heard a familiar voice up the
street. So what if I promised I’d stay clear, that didn’t mean I couldn’t sneak
up the sidewalk…
…and
take a little peep.
Yup,
Mayhew and Maybelle were doing a fine job. Seemed everything was going to plan and
I looked as disinterested as I could as I wandered off in the opposite
direction…
…and
came to a big ol’ saloon. Weren’t one of those spit and sawdust places either,
but a brick built saloon with its windows intact, and the sign above the door –
The Lucky Stranger – well, if ever I saw an omen. Since I had time on my hands
and a thirst in need of a slaking, I dropped in, only my call for a bottle went
unheard, on account of some rowdy young bucks further along the bar. Second
time round, I spoke up good and loud.
The
bartender set a bottle of whiskey down with a heavy thud. ‘You in town for the
contest, Mister?’
‘Maybe,’
I muttered, as I shot him a dirty look for inviting the world to hear my
business.
‘Hey,
Mister!’ one of the bucks shouted, a tall kid with a big nose and an even
bigger mouth. ‘You ain’t got a chance! Ain’t that so, Hollis?’
Propped
against the bar with his back to me, the one he called Hollis turned around, real
slow, then looked me up and down. ‘Who? Him?’ He shook his head. ‘No, he ain’t
got a chance.’
I
knew him right away. Hollister Byrne, backed by many to win the shooting
contest, was the same miserable cuss who’d looked down his nose at me in
Stirrup Creek.
‘You
remember me, don’t you?’ he said. ‘Sure you do, and I remember you, you’re a
man called Valance. I smelled you as soon as you walked in.’
Course
his friends loved that. While they pissed their pants, Mister Big Man Byrne
stuck his thumbs in his belt and came forward all a swagger. In words aimed at
me he talked to his buddies. ‘Mister Valance ain’t bad with a gun. Truth is
he’s pretty good. Just not as good as me.’
I
had a pretty good idea what was coming next and it sure as hell wasn’t the
sheriff. I’ve never known a lawman turn up at the right time yet.
‘Think
you can take me, Valance? Hey, look at me when I’m talking to you.’
‘Know what I think Hollis? He’s yeller!’
‘Yeah, he’s yeller!’
The
harder Byrne and his buddies pushed, the more I backed off. Sure, I was all
boiled up inside, but with so much at stake, well; you should have heard the
laughter when I slunk out of there with my tail between my legs. Running away ain’t
easy, anytime, and it helped none to feel I’d left my balls on the bar with my
whiskey.
I
didn’t trouble myself to drink anyplace else. Ain’t like I didn’t need one, pained
as I was, but I figured temperance was the only way I’d make it through till
Saturday. Meantime, the only way I was gonna make it through the next hour was
to keep walking.
At
the quietest place in Carson City
I stopped walking and spent a long time brooding. Much as I wanted to go back
and teach those smirking jaspers some manners, my head kept telling me to stay
calm. Saturday would be here soon enough and when the contest was over… well, I
knew where I’d be heading.
Silent
company is fine by day, but if anything scares me more than an Irishwoman with
a frying pan, it’s a bone yard at night. Come sundown, I traipsed back into
town, wanting nothing more than a bite to eat and a bed with clean sheets. Well,
I got that bite to eat but I was out of luck at the hotel.
‘Sorry Mister. All rooms are taken. We’re busy
right now with folks staying over for the shooting contest.’
I
got the same answer at the next place I tried too. That left the big hotel
on the main street. What the hell, I deserved some comfort, whatever the
expense.
Two
signatures in the book caught my eye when I checked in – Theodore and Maybelle
Mayhew. Well, well, what a surprise. Separate rooms, too.
‘Room nine, left at the top of the stairs.’
Trust
Mayhew to have nothing but the best. I might have known. Stay away he said, and
I had. Ain’t my fault I finished up at the same hotel.
And
it ain’t my fault I finished up spending the night with Maybelle. She must have
heard me in the lobby, ‘cause she pounced the minute I got upstairs and lured
me to her room.
Yeah,
I know, I’m easily lured.
Well,
before long we were horizontally acquainted and going for glory. I ain’t one
for boasting but when Maybelle let out a yell, I thought it was business as
usual and gave her an extra hard poke. How was I to know Mayhew had walked in? Till
I heard him apologize and slam the door on his way out, I didn’t even know he
was there. Some husband, huh?
When
we got around to pillow talk, Mrs. Mayhew spun an interesting tale…
‘Pa
raised me on his own when Ma died young. Wasn’t easy for him or me, but Pa
never stopped trying. Between the lean times and the hard times, he stretched
the good times as far as he could. Then when Pa died a couple of years ago, a
man called Sam Larkin came to see me. I didn’t know him so well; I just knew he
was a big man in Sweetlove. He said Pa owed him a lot of money. I don’t know if
that was true, but me being alone with no kin, I let him talk me into turning
over our spread in payment. In return he gave me a job and a room at the
saloon. The pay was nothing to shout about but I got to know the other girls
and it was fun meeting people. For a while I thought I was special to Sam, but
it wasn’t so. When I asked him if he loved me, he just laughed in my face. I
hated him for that. I was just another piece of property to him, cheap at that,
and there was no way out.
‘Sorry’
‘Then
one day a funny little man came to town; Theodore, selling pots and pans from
his wagon. Before the day was out I found him unconscious in the street. He’d
been beaten and robbed, so I ran for Doc. Neither of us thought he’d pull
through, but Theodore’s a fighter and in little more than a week he was sitting
up in bed and telling us he was moving on to better things. It was wonderful to
see and when he said he’d be looking for an assistant, well, my heart just skipped
a beat. Theodore saw my interest and asked me if I’d like to go with him. I
told him I’d love to, but I was scared Sam might find out.’
‘Why?’
‘Well,
he might have got mean.’
‘So
what did Theodore say?’
‘About
Sam? Nothing, he just told me to name the time and place, and he’d be there. And
he was, at sunrise next morning outside the saloon. I just skipped into the
back of the wagon and away we went.’
‘And
you’ve been together since?’
‘Yes,
just moving from town to town. I don’t like being in one place too long.’
‘That
figures. But if Sam Larkin is the man you’re running from…’
‘He’s
not. The man I’m running from is T.T.
Sloane… a hired killer. He’s the one that does Sam’s dirty work.’
‘Well
I still don’t get it. I can see you might have hurt the man’s pride, maybe, but
that’s no reason for him wanting you dead.’
‘Can
you keep a secret?’
‘Try
me.’
‘Okay,
before I left I stole a thousand dollars. And I set fire to the saloon.’
‘Holy
sh…’
‘I
shouldn’t have done it, I know, but he I figured he owed me something. Running
away didn’t seem enough. I wanted to hit back. Told you I’m not the little lady
people think I am, didn’t I?’
‘I
guess you did. Hmm, are you sure it’s Sloane that’s after you?’
‘Yes,
I saw him in Rockfield, just before we left for Stirrup Creek. Theodore was
looking for someone to join us anyway, and with Sloane on our tail… well,
that’s when you came along.’
‘Why
didn’t you tell me this when I signed on?’
‘You
were good with gun, that’s all I knew. I wasn’t to know I could trust you.’
‘Theodore
knows all this?’
‘Sure,
he knew about the fire, he saw the smoke. I told him about the money later. I
knew he wouldn’t tell anyone.’
‘He’s
very loyal to you.’
‘I
know. He’s a real sweetie.’
‘Is
that why you married him?’
Maybelle
smiled and gave me a playful slap. ‘Fooled you for a while, didn’t we? Pretending we were married was Theodore’s
idea. He said traveling as man and wife would make me harder to find, and spare
me the attentions of drunks and no goods.’
‘That’s
what he thought, huh? So you became Mrs. Mayhew. What about Maybelle, is that
your real name?’
‘No,
my real name is Beulah. Like it?’
‘It’s
alright, but I like Maybelle better; you look like a Maybelle. You sure don’t
look like a Mayhew though. Could be Theodore wishes you were married. Have you
ever thought of that?’
‘I
have. He tried to kiss me once. I think I hurt his feelings when I brushed him
off. He’s such a sweet, kind, thoughtful man and I am fond of him, but that’s
as far as it goes. When we first met I saw him as the little man who wouldn’t
lie down. He reminded me of my Pa.
Still does. But I do think a lot of him, and I know he thinks an awful lot of
me.’
‘Can’t
blame him for that, there’s an awful lot of you to think of,’ I said, as I gave
her ass a slap.
Maybelle
rolled into my arms and giggled, and slid her hand under the blanket. ‘There’s
an awful lot of you too, Mister Valance. Now what shall we do next?’
She
got her answer when I rolled on top of her and whispered in her ear.
Maybelle
giggled. ‘Mister,’ she said. ‘You sure know how to make a girl blush.’
Maybelle
was gone when I woke on Thursday morning. Out banging the drum with Mayhew
somewhere, I figured, once I’d cleared my head. With little to do but satisfy a rumbling gut,
I threw my duds on and followed my nose to the steakhouse. Steak and onions
never tasted so good, and I swear I smelled money in the air when I came out of
there I crossed the busy main street to the gunsmith’s. The man behind the
counter looked real pleased to see me and called me Sir; I liked that. Since a
hundred cartridges would cover an hour’s practice and leave plenty over for the
contest, that’s what I asked for.
‘There
you are Sir, a hundred cartridges. That’ll be twenty dollars.’
‘Someone
making ammunition in gold now?’
‘What
do you mean?’
‘I’ve
never known hundred’s go for more than ten.’
‘They
do in this store when there’s a shooting contest on. Twenty dollars, that’s the
price.’
‘Forget
it, I’ll take forty.’
‘That’ll
be ten dollars.’
‘Aw
c’mon, if twenty buys a hundred then...’
‘Forty
comes without discount. Take it or leave it.’
Forty
came without a Sir too, I noticed, as I handed him ten dollars. Hell, I
couldn’t wait to see Mayhew’s face when I tried claiming that on expenses.
Back
on the street I was at a loose end and wondering what to do with myself when an itch in my
whiskers reminded me a shave was overdue. With time to burn it bothered me none
to have to get in line at the barbershop and wait my turn, and though the usual
topic of conversation got a mite tedious after a while, my patience wasn’t
unduly troubled. Daydreams of riches might have stretched beyond a peaceful
half hour if it hadn’t been for a ruckus outside.
‘Sounds
like someone’s getting a hiding,’ said the barber.
Since
the only people in the place by then were me, him and a fella in the chair with
a razor under his nose, I felt obliged to speak up.
‘Yup,’
I said, as it surely did sound like someone was getting a hiding. Young
men, I guessed, being as they were loud and angry. Not that it was any business
of mine, though I figured I’d better take a look when a mighty bang shook the
door.
I
found a little Chinee slumped in the doorway. Poor fella didn’t look so good,
and he might have looked a whole lot worse if I hadn’t stepped between him and
two jaspers that were giving him a kicking. Course they didn’t take kindly to
having their fun spoiled. Not by me, that’s for sure.
‘Hey Willy, do you know who this is? It’s the
coward that was in the saloon yesterday!’
‘The one that crawled out on his belly?’
‘Yup, it’s him!’
‘Hey coward, you just made a big mistake.’
Willy
made a bigger mistake when he took a swing at me. If he didn’t know it
when I snatched his wrist and back-slammed my elbow into his mouth, he
sure knew it when he fell to the ground, coughing blood and spitting
teeth. His friend made a mistake too, in reaching for his gun, though he had
the good sense to freeze when I outdrew him.
‘Pride
ain’t worth getting killed for, kid. Walk away while you can. Go on, walk away
and there’ll be no more trouble.’
‘H-Hollis
ain’t gonna like this. He’s got two notches on his gun already. He’ll get you
for sure.’
‘Maybe,
now turn around and start walking, and take Toothless with you.’
For
all the fire in his eyes, the kid saw sense. As he helped his friend away, I
asked the little Chinee if he was alright. Ain’t sure what he said, but he
didn’t look so bad once he’d dusted himself down. Other than a split lip, it
seemed he’d suffered no more than a bruising.
Well,
before I knew it a crowd of people were fussing around and wanting to shake my
hand, led by the barber, who insisted on giving me a free haircut and shave. ‘Please,
I’d consider it an honor,’ he said. I declined. Course I thanked him politely,
but I had other priorities by then, the first being to get the hell out of
there.
Keeping
out of trouble in Carson City
ain’t easy, and that’s a fact. Since my own little rain cloud seemed intent on
tracking me everywhere, I got to thinking I should stay off the streets till
Saturday. I was still chewing it over as I wandered from the rail yard to the
backstreet bar, where a couple of shots of whiskey put me at ease while I got
down to some serious thinking. Whichever way I looked at it, lying low seemed
the right thing to do and after one more whiskey, I made up my mind; I’d go back
to my room and stay there it was time for the contest. Only the plan hit a
complication the minute I stepped outside. Should I take the quick way back to
the hotel and pass The Lucky Stranger, or play safe and take the long way? Well,
while I hesitated, the whiskey proposed the quick way and when my heart
seconded the motion, my legs just naturally followed.
I’ve
no regrets about that. Truth is it felt good to walk with my head high, and I
sure walked tall when I passed The Lucky Stranger. And I passed slow… real
slow. Course I didn’t get far.
‘Valance!’
My
oh my, Mister Byrne. Well what as surprise. Though his buddies were right behind
him, they soon peeled off when I marked my ground in the center of the street.
Folks
scattered as Byrne stepped off the sidewalk and gave me that sneer of his. My,
did he think he was something, standing there all high and mighty with his
thumbs tucked into his belt. Though he carried two guns, I figured the left was
just for show. I’d seen him shoot and I’d seen him drink, and I knew to keep my
eyes on his right hand.
‘You’re
gonna pay for what you did to my friends, Valance. Hear me? I said you’re gonna
pay.’
Forget
that stuff about waiting for the other fella to draw first. Live by the code of
the west and there’s a good chance you’ll die by it. The code of the Valance
suits me better, and the moment he slipped his right thumb from his belt…
BLAM!
Byrne
cried out and dropped to his knees, blood pooling on the ground from his
shattered right hand. Hell, I never fired a better shot. Then someone poked a
gun in my back.
‘Drop it, Mister.’
Wouldn’t
you know it, when you need a lawman there’s never one around, and when you
don’t need one…
Attempted
murder, the marshal said. Course I objected, and I tried to state my case, but
he wasn’t interested.
‘Tell
it to the judge,’ he said.
A night in
the calaboose did nothing for my peace of mind, or my spine. On a bone hard
mattress I hardly slept a wink. I just lay there, staring at them bars. Come
Friday morning I was aching all over, but that was the least of my problems. I
just wished there was some way of contacting Mayhew.
Well, after
leaving me to fret for a few hours, who should stroll into the marshal’s office
that afternoon but Mayhew himself, and was I glad to see him. Only it wasn’t me
he’d come to see me.
‘Howdy Marshal!’
‘Hello Mister Mayhew. Your posters are ready. Give me a minute and I’ll
get them for you.’
Seemed Mayhew
had dropped by earlier in the week and the marshal was making good a promise
to let him have some old wanted posters.
‘Hey,
Theodore!’ I yelled.
Mayhew
turned pale when he saw me locked up.
‘You two
know each other?'’ the marshal asked.
‘N-no, we
don’t,’ Mayhew spluttered. ‘Though it’s possible this man might know me. As a
well traveled man of fine standing, I have, on occasion, suffered the attention
of shiftless ne’er do wells, though I certainly don’t recall this one. What’s
he in jail for, anyway?’
‘Attempted
murder,’ said the marshal.
Mayhew’s
chin almost hit the floor.
‘Oh c’mon
Marshal, that sneering runt was gonna kill me. I was just defending myself.’
Course I’d
told the marshal that a hundred times already, but I had to let Mayhew know
what had happened. Well, the posters got handed over and the two of them went
outside, but when the marshal returned, he returned alone. If Mayhew had a
trick up his sleeve, I hoped he’d play it soon. Till then I could
only wait.
Well, Saturday
came and Saturday went, and with it went the shooting contest. After waiting for
Mayhew all morning, I knew it wasn’t to be when the marshal locked the door at
noon, and went off to the contest himself. Course I got angry for a while, and
maybe I cussed some, but deep down I knew where the blame lay. Ain’t the first
time I’ve let myself down, and it ain’t the first time I’ve let friends down
either, and the price of that was a misery that lasted the whole night through.
Come
Sunday Mayhew and Maybelle would be moving on, with or without me. Though my
words of apology were well practiced for when they came to say goodbye, nobody
came, but while there was hope, I hoped, till night fell on another long day and
I asked the martial, straight out, if he’d seen them. Without troubling himself
to look up from his desk, he just shook his head.
Monday was
just as glum. At least the marshal was more sociable. Late in the morning he
brought me an extra cup of coffee and asked if I could tell the time.
‘Sure I
can,’ I said.
‘Good. See
that clock on the wall over my desk? When it gets to three o’clock, give me a
yell.’
For three
hours and twenty three minutes I stared at that clock. Weren’t like I had anything
better to do and when I let out a yell, right on three o’clock, he moseyed
over, jangling his keys. Hell was I confused when he unlocked the door and he told
me to come out. For a moment I just stood there. Course I moved pretty fast
when he repeated it with a threat. ‘C’mon, before I change my mind and lock you
in again.’
After I’d
signed for my things, the marshal tossed me my gun belt.
‘You said
you came to Carson City
for the shooting contest, right?’
‘That’s
right.’
‘And now
that it’s over, you’ve no further business here, right?’
‘Right.’
‘So you’ll
be leaving just as fast as you can get on your horse?’
‘Well,
sure, once I’ve settled up at the hotel, but I thought I had to see a judge?’
‘What do
we need a judge for? There’s no case to answer.’
‘Then you
believe me?’
‘I believed
you all along. I’ve no time for Byrne, or his friends, and it doesn’t displease
me that you’ve taken them down a notch or two, but it’s my job to keep the
peace around here and it’s an undeniable fact that keeping you in jail has made
my job easier. Take it from me; blowing Byrne’s hand off wouldn’t have been the
end of it.’
I couldn’t
argue with the marshal’s reasoning. Didn’t much matter anyhow, now the
contest was over and done. I just needed to know if Mayhew was
still in town, yet when I asked marshal, his reply left me stunned.
‘What’s it
to you? Ain’t fixing to pester Mrs. Mayhew again, are you? That’s surprised
you, ain’t it? Yeah, I know all about that, too. Mister Mayhew told me, poor
man, when we had our little talk outside. Keeping you in jail for another
twenty four hours was the least I could do. Anyhow, they’ll be long gone now,
and with the help that’s escorting them, I’d advise you to stay away.’
‘What kind
of help?’
‘Frank
Brogan, the fastest gun in the west, that kind of help. He’s the man who won
the shooting contest. That reminds me…’
The
marshal pulled a letter from his pocket. ‘Mister Mayhew asked me to give you
this note. A warning, I guess.’
I came out
of the marshal’s office with my head in a spin. Mayhew was always good for a
trick, but I never expected that, and when I opened the note the marshal had
given me…
I knew I’d
been hornswoggled. Mayhew must have cut a deal with Brogan. Before or after the
contest is anyone’s guess.
After
saddling my horse, I rode out and didn’t look back till I was high on the hill
beyond the valley. Only then did I remember my hotel bill. Since I never once
slept in my own bed I had no mind to worry; didn’t use my own name, anyhow. For
a few minutes I rested on the saddle horn whilst I rolled and smoked a
cigarette. I had a pretty good idea where my partners were bound – Reno ain’t thirty miles
to the north – and traveling in a wagon, they couldn’t have gotten far, yet I
had no mind to go after them. Win some; lose some, that’s how it goes. That it grieved
me to think I’d never see Maybelle again don’t matter. Then I thought of
Mayhew, hopping up and down and jabbing his finger me… and I knew I’d miss him
too.
That night
on the prairie I was drawn like a moth to a campfire. ‘Rider coming in,’ I
hollered.
Once he
was satisfied I offered no threat, a lone man with a rifle welcomed me in for
coffee. Well, we talked some, and holy shinbones, did he have a tale to tell.
‘You say
you just left Carson City?
Did you see or hear tell of a shooting contest?’
‘Sure, but
you’re too late. That was two days back.’
‘Pity, I
was hoping to take part. How about you?’
‘Nope, not
me. I was visiting my poor sick mother.’
‘Then you
wouldn’t have seen who was running the contest?’
‘Not a
thing,’ I said, getting a little cagey, since I got the sudden notion I
knew who he was. ‘Why, are they something special to you?’
‘One of
them is. A woman, thirty five years old, dark haired, pretty; calls herself
Maybelle. Travels as the wife of a man called Mayhew. And I’m pretty sure a man
called Valance is traveling with them. I don’t suppose that means anything to
you?’
I shook my
head and reached for my tobacco. Hell, did I need a cigarette.
‘I’ve been
trailing them for months. They’ve kept a step ahead, so far, but their luck
can’t last forever. Say, can you spare cigarette?’
I handed
him mine, and I rolled myself another.
‘Thanks. What
do they call you?’
‘George…
George Washing-ham,’ I said. Dumb, I know, but it sure beats the first name
that came to mind.
‘Glad to
know you, George. I’m T.T. Sloane. Care for some more coffee?’
‘Don’t
mind if I do,’ I said, as I eased my hand to my gun. Mister T.T. Sloane was
gonna get blasted the instant he picked up the jug, but even as he reached,
his coat gaped open and I saw the glint of a badge on his chest.
‘Y-you’re
a lawman?’
‘That’s
right. I’m a deputy in Sweetlove. You seem surprised?’
‘I thought
Sweetlove was a lawless town.’
‘You know
it?’
‘Not
exactly. Something I heard on my Pa’s knee, I guess, a long time ago.’
‘Maybe it
was, once, but not in the years Tom Randall’s been sheriff. Nobody beats
Tom, not even that woman.’
‘The one
you’re looking for?’
‘Yeah, Beulah
Price; that’s her real name. She took a knife to man, Sam Larkin the saloon
owner, while he slept. Then she cleaned out the safe and set fire to the place.
Trying to cover her tracks, I guess. We managed to put out the fire but there
was nothing we could do for Sam.’
‘She
killed him?’
‘Bled to
death. Sam was no angel, he liked the ladies and he liked a drink, but he had a
warm heart and he took care of Beulah after her Pa died. He gave her a home, a
living and fixed her up with new clothes, only it wasn’t enough. She wanted shoes
and rice, and when that didn’t happen, she got mad. Weren’t like Sam had lied
to her, or deceived her. He treated her no better or worse than any of his
girls, and when he tried straightening her out, she upped and stuck him with a
fork. A warning, for sure, but when Tom questioned him about it, he laughed it
off and joked about her killing him someday. Well, one day, she did.’
‘Hmm, it’s
a sorry tale, but you’re sure going to a lot of trouble for one woman.’
‘You
wouldn’t think so if you’d seen what she did and heard Sam screaming.
Nobody’s beyond the law, that’s what the sheriff says, and I’m bound to
prove it.’
‘What are
you fixing to do when you catch up with her?’
‘Take her
back to Sweetlove. She’ll get a fair trial.’
‘Ain’t you
a little far from home for that badge to mean something?’
‘While
she’s running free, that’s true, but that’ll change when I catch up with them. She’ll
be in jail just as fast as I can tell the local sheriff what I know, that the
shooting contests are crooked and that she, Mayhew and Valance are a bunch of
swindlers. And I’ve got signed affidavits and witness statements from a whole
string of towns to back it up. Once they’re in jail, transferring Beulah into
my custody will be a formality. I’ve only got to file the papers.’
Hell, I
never drank coffee so fast. I couldn’t get away fast enough. After thanking
Sloane for his hospitality, I practically ran to my horse.
‘Are you
sure you won’t stay? You’re welcome to share the fire, and bunk down here for
the night.’
‘Thanks,
but I’d better be making tracks. I don’t think I could sleep yet anyhow, coffee
keeps me awake. Oh, I just remembered…I think I heard someone called Brogan won
the shooting contest. Course that could be an alias, and Valance too, I
reckon. I guess you never can tell with people like that.’
‘Much
obliged George. Glad to have met you.’
I bedded
down an hour or so later, though sleep was impossible with so much swirling
around in my brain. Who’d have thought that about Maybelle, huh? Funny thing
is, for all I’d heard, I couldn’t dislike her.
Next
morning, tired as I was, blue sky and sunshine gave me the perfect start to a
brand new day. With the sun on my back almost as warm as the feeling in my
heart, I saddled my horse. North, south, east or west, the choice was mine, and
anywhere south of east would suit me fine, since the only place I was going was
home. I never made it to Denver.
