Between Hell and Texas (25 page)
Read Between Hell and Texas Online
Authors: Dusty Richards
“He's nice and polite.”
“Supposed to be. Jenny, I wonder though how much he's scarred inside. Standing by his father when he was shot down.”
“Bound to be some.”
“I don't probe into his mind. But I'd really like to know how he feels.”
“Maybe one day he'll open up when the right time comes.”
“You have any kids?”
“A daughter.”
“What's she do?” In an instant, her blue eyes flooded with tears and he knew he'd opened up a nest of hornets.
“I'll tell you sometimeâ” Then she ran off to the back, crying.
He put down his fork and went back to the kitchen. He found her sobbing with her face to the wall where the calendar hung. The cook turned up his hands at himâhe didn't know anything to do.
Without a second thought, he put his arm on her shoulder. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jab you about something that upsetting.”
“It's not your fault.” Jenny shook her head and turned her wet face toward him. “Birdy is working in a brothel in Tombstone, last I heard from her. She wouldn't listen to me.”
Chet hugged her and she sobbed on his shoulder. Holding her, he wondered what he could do to help herâprobably nothing but comfort her.
At last she straightened and took a towel the cook gave her to mop her face. Her blue eyes twinkling, she shook her head. “I didn't mean to burden you with my baggage. Sorry.”
He nodded, then re-hugged her. “I guess we all have our private wars to fight.”
She shook her head as she began to relax. “Why in God's name don't you have a wife?”
“What brought that on?”
“You're too nice a guy to simply be by yourself.”
“Aw, come on.”
“I'll join you in a minute.”
“Good.” He knew she wanted to reconnect with herself, so he went back and picked at his food, tasted the cooling coffee, and considered the imperfect world he lived in. Things should be easier, buying a ranch, solving the barriers that held Kathren in Texas, and maybe reaching into his nephew's mind to somehow help him.
She soon came back, fresh-faced, and refilled his cup. “Ready for pie?'
“I guess. Sure, what's new?”
“Rhubarb.”
“What's that?”
“A tart-tasting dude.”
“I'd like to try some.”
“There's plenty of sugar in it,” she assured him and put the piece before him.
He nodded and cut a bit off with his fork. “Tastes grand.”
“Figured you'd like it if you ever tried it.”
The sharpness of the slick fruit brought out the flavor, and he decided he would plant some whenever he moved there. “Hard to raise?”
“No, it comes up every year. Has big leaves and you only use the stems.”
He'd put that idea away for a while. Finished, he paid her and then leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. With her fingers covering the spot, she looked wide-eyed in disbelief at him.
“Just a thanks for being yourself.” He winked and was on his way out.
“Chet Byrnesâyou're a real rascal.”
“Everyone needs one,” he said over his shoulder, and headed for the Palace. His mood was upbeat and he felt alrightâif Harold had some good news on the deal going through, he'd even be better.
Chapter 26
With his hat cocked on the back of his head, the land agent smoked a huge cigar and waved his hand around like a fan. Before him, a large pile of money indicated his success with the paste cards.
“Hey, Chet, do you play poker?”
“Sometimes.” He'd stopped behind the backs of other players and nodded.
“Get in this game then.”
“No, I'll have a beer. Do we have any problems?”
“No. Our business's going alright. Okayâ” He turned his attention back to the game. “I'll raise you ten dollars.”
“Why, you no good sumbitchâ” A short man bolted out of his chair, drawing his gun. “You've cheated on me for the last time.”
Without even thinking, Chet grabbed an empty captain's chair, and in one swing raised it over the man's head and crashed it down before he could shoot Harold. Instead, the bullet went through the table and the shooter's knees crumbled into the darkness. The percussion of the shot put out the lights, and the gunsmoke-filled barroom was dark save for what light came in the front doors.
Men scrambled around on the floor. Money must have been scattered from the upset table, and the bartender ran about trying to relight his lamps. Chet had the would-be shooter by the collar and dragged him to the lighted door. The man had lost his hat, and was bleeding from a cut on his forehead and moaning aloud.
Someone of authority was coming on the run from the courthouse. Out of breath, the man, armed with a shotgun, drew up before the two of them. “Who's shot?'
“The table,” Chet said. “This man tried to shoot Bo Harold.”
“What happened to him?” The lawman indicated the man on the ground.
“I broke a chair over his head before he could shoot Harold.”
The deputy tried to see past him. “What else is going on?”
“They are trying to fix the lights and pick up all the money that spilled on the floor.”
“Holy shit. Any more in there want to shoot someone?”
“I don't think so. But take this man here.” Chet pulled him to his feet. “And stick him in jail.”
Sheriff Sims was there by then. “What's going on?”
Chet shook his head, shoving his man at the deputy. “They were playing cards. This man jumped up, drew a gun. Before he shot anyone I busted a chair over his head.”
“Quick thinking.”
“Take him to the jail and have Doc come look at his head. What's your name?” the sheriff asked the would-be-shooter.
“Buff Yearns.”
“Well, Buff Yearns, you are about to learn all about our justice system. It does not take kindly to gun-shooting incidents.”
“That Bo Harold guy was cheating!”
The sheriff frowned him down. “I doubt that. But we'll see. Thanks again, Byrnes.”
“Damn, oh damn, you saved my life,” the out-of-breath Harold gasped, staggering out the batwing doors into the bright sunlight and blinking. “He was ready to shoot me.”
“Find all your money?” Chet asked.
“Most of it. That man is crazy, sheriff.”
“He's going to jail, Bo. Take it easy. I may need all the card players as witnesses at his trial.”
“I'll damn sure be there.”
“I'll get a list of them.” the lawman said, and left them alone on the boardwalk.
“Damn, Chet, I'm still shaking inside and out.”
“Let's go back in there and have a beer.”
“Sure, but I'm having whiskeyâbeer ain't strong enough.”
Jane waited on them at the table and fussed some on Harold. “You better choose your card players more careful from now on,” she warned him.
“Yeah, yeah,” He reached out and swept her against his chair. “I'll sure do that, honey.”
She shook her head in disbelief and went after their drinks.
“You know her?” Bo asked.
“Yes, she's how I found you.”
“Oh, yeah. Damn, I am still shaking inside. I never been that close to death before in my life.”
“You'll get over it.”
“Yeah, you've been in a range war. You don't worry when men shoot at you.”
“A man would be a fool not to worry about being shot at, no matter how many times you're facing down a gun.”
“Have you ever done that chair act before?”
“No. It was the first thing I reached for to stop him.”
“Oh.” Harold slumped in his chair. “I am so glad it was there.”
Chet asked about the brand business, but Harold had no answer from the owner so far. Good enough. He watched his man sorting out the money on their table from his pockets which were full of bills and coins.
A cowboy came by and stopped. “Your name Byrnes?”
“Yes.”
“Thereâs lady out front in a buggy that would like to talk to you.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. She's sure a looker.”
“Who is it?” Bo asked.
“I imagine Mrs. Christianson.”
“Margaret?”
Chet reset his hat. “I may not be back.”
“Ah, ah. I don't blame you. Breakfast at Jenny's Café early. Say seven?” Harold said after him.
Chet stopped and nodded. “Make it six. I need to get back to the ranch.”
In the bloody light of sundown flooding the street, Chet saw Marge under the buggy roof, sitting stiff-backed on the seat in her red velvet dress, holding the reins.
“How are you this evening?” he asked. “I guess you wanted me?”
“Get in. We need to go somewhere and talk. In private.” Marge never even looked his way.
What did he do now? She couldn't kill him. He agreed and climbed in to sit beside her. His weight getting in made her shift hard as the buggy leaned to the right, and he took his place beside her. The rig righted, he sat with both hands in his lap, and she softly chucked to her team.
He bent down and checked the sky. “Better not go far. It'll be dark soon.”
“I know when the sun sets.”
She must have driven four blocks up a steep street. At last, she parked in an overlook of the town as the last orange glow shone on Thumb Butte. She tied off the reins and then turned to him.
“What went wrong with us today?” she asked.
Chet took off his hat and scratched an itch over his right ear. “I don't know. It was like a wall was holding us apart.”
“Did I do anything wrong?”
He replaced his hat and shook his head. “No.”
“What was it?”
“Honestly, I was not sure. Something came over me.”
“Was it the lady waiting in Texas?”
“Maybe, but she wasn't a strong force on my mind then.”
“I know I am playing second fiddleâ”
“Did I ever say that?” He looked hard at her in the twilight.
“No. But I know you want her to come here and you said it was hopeless. If she can't come, I want to be on your list.”
Chet nodded very slowly. “I had a long affair once with a married lady. Her husband ran around on her, but she couldn't face the disgrace of a divorce and live in that same country. But when she finally had the courage to leaveâthree men who hated me rode in, raped her, then they murdered her. I found her dead, and also found her note to her husband telling him that she was leaving him that he never saw.”
He could make out her shocked face in the dimming lightânodding. Then she blew her nose in a kerchief and swallowed hard. “That would hurt anyone. I'm sorry.”
“I don't think about it much now. But I was uncomfortable when I went with her behind his back. We only dared to dance one dance each week at the local schoolhouse. But he was gambler and went off leaving her at home for days alone to run things while he consorted with a rich widow.”
“Did they catch her murderers?”
“Yes, she left the name of the ringleader written in her own blood on the sheet. They all three hung. I was there and saw justice served. I just hated how they smeared her name so at the trial about our affair.”
“I could see that.”
“Marge, I guess I'm not ready to be committed to any woman. I really in my heart doubt that Kathren can move to Arizona, but I left her with a pledge I'd come back and marry her if she would or could come out here to the new place.”
“I understand. I'm trying to be very frank with you tonight. I want you to understand that what I am about to say to you I have deeply thought about all day. I have never said this to any other man in my life. Would you consider having an affair with me?”
Chet collapsed on the leather-padded bench. His eyes closed in deep concentration.
“I'd have to think about the consequences. My life is so filled with unfinished deals. I really should be back in Texas running thingsâbeing certain my family members are not going to be murdered. I expect a sad letter every time I go to the post office. The choice you have given me is very generous, butâ”
She unpinned her hat and tossed it into the back. Then her face loomed over his and she kissed him. Her lips were hard and demanding, but he didn't dare respond. At last he gently set her back upright.
“Marge, I can't promise you anything. But I will dance with you, and I promise to stop by. But give me some time to think. I promise you, whatever I decide, you will be the first to know.”
“I am not sure I can wait that long.”
“I understand. But I am being sincere as I can with you. Let me have enough rope to see things clear. You're a wonderful woman, but I'm not ready to choose.”
In a little girl's voice Marge asked, “You will forgive my boldness?”
“I will. I understand you have needs. And desires. But for now I need more time.”
She rearranged her dress and straightened it. He climbed down and retrieved her hat. Handed it to her, then he got back on the seat.
She nodded to him and then drove the horses off the hill and let him off at the Palace.
“I shall see you at Camp Verde Saturday night. Come by for supper. I'll even feed your ranch hands.”
“They'd love that.”
“See you then.” And she drove off in the gathering darkness.
He walked across the street to the hotel, took a room, and went upstairs to try to sleep. It was before dawn when he left his bed, went and took Roan out of the livery, then rode him over to Jenny's.
Harold was ten minutes late getting there. He apologized and sat down beside Chet on a stool. “Damn, this is too early.”
“I guess you haven't heard anything more?”
“No wires. I have no idea what is happening. How's the ranching going?”
“We've found maybe a hundred and fifty momma cows.”
“Oh, yes, you mentioned that. A man down at Congress has two three-year-old Hereford bulls. He'll sell them for fifty dollars apiece.”
“Haul them up here?”
“I guess. He says they're sound and highly-bred stock.”
“Tell him with delivery to the ranch included and they're soundâI need them.”
“That's a helluva long ways to haul two bulls,” Harold said.
“You working for me or him?”
“You.”
“Good, make the deal.”
Jenny brought them eggs, German potatoes, big slices of ham, biscuits and gravy on two platters.
“I heard about a man has three yearling Hereford bulls for sale.” She refilled their cups.
“If they are sound I'll buy them for the ranch.”
“Good, that might make me ten bucks.” She winked at him and went to put the pot up.
When Jenny went back to the kitchen, Harold asked under his breath, “Where did you go last night with herâMargaret? I was just curious.”
“Our business was short and I was tired, so I went to bed by myself.”
“Oh, I see.”
Chet didn't need to share his personal business with Harold. No telling who'd know about them next. He finally parted with the man, told Jenny good-bye and headed east. He rode past her gate and went on. He'd see her at the dance, anyway.
On the road from Camp Verde, close to the ranch, he spotted a hard-faced stranger armed with a rifle who stepped out of the willows and aimed it at him. Chet's hand went for his own gun. The rifle belched out a shot from a ring of gunsmoke and the roan reared on his hind feet. The bullet sounded like it had hit a watermelon, and Chet felt something had struck the roan. In the confusion, the roan fell over backwards. Only in his quickness to shake his boots out of the stirrups was he able to fall aside and away from the wounded horse's striking hooves. The sharp cries of pain came from his horse, thrashing his legs as Chet came out of the boiling dust, shooting wildly at his attacker. When he shot the man's hat off his head, the ambusher quit the country. Then others busted out of the willows. Chet's eyes burning, he emptied his gun at the five retreating riders.
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