Cowboys Know Best (15 page)

Perl wanted to warn them that the mafia boss would not be coming with shotguns and revolvers. They would have an arsenal of machine guns with barrels of ammunition that could lay the little town of Great Price to waste in a matter of minutes. She could not let that happen… these people had supported and encouraged her through the hardest transition of her young life. No, she was not going to let them suffer for a stupid blood feud between mafia families. A blood feud that she had started because she selfishly wanted to be happy.

There was only one direct way in and out of town, and a second through the pastures. Don Piccoli’s men would have to travel one of those routes to find her. She hastened to the smithy and, not finding him or his apprentices around, quickly hammered some long nails into several thin boards. She tossed then, with a small roll of barbed wire, into a canvas sack with a pliers and a pair of oversized gloves, musing about the ‘lessons’ she had learned by listening to her father’s stories of ways to slow down anyone who might try to follow him while ‘business’ was being conducted.

Perl found it odd that there was no one in sight, but chose to see the absence of people to be a sign from God and a means to allow her to do what she knew must be done. Perl hopped on the mare and quickly galloped the animal down the main road, undetected by the watchful eyes of the concerned townspeople.

Dennis snapped his head around, thinking he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He chalked it up to nerves as the men discussed their plan to keep Don Piccoli and his mob out of their peaceful little town. He did not know that as the men talked about ideas, Perl was already acting on her own. With a satisfied smile, she strung the barbed wire tautly across the bridge and under the cross rails, rigging the entire foundation to collapse as the Don’s car drove over the small, wooden structure. No one heard the wicked giggle as she switched the sign to the town in the direction of the cow pasture, or her pleased grunt as she laid nail-laced boards along the length of the road and covered them with dirt. Content with her well-made and unsuspected traps, she paused to pray, clutching her cross in her hand and closing her eyes.

“Thank you,
Babbo
,” she whispered to the sky, thinking of her father, “for the stories you told me when I was very little about the ways of the family when it protected itself in the old world. Please help us win this fight.
Mio Dio
, My God… please protect my new family and my friends…” Perl paused, and lifted up one more very special and very private prayer.

Quickly, she turned back to town ready to face her husband and confess her disobedience to Dennis. Of one thing she was certain… she would be spanked for her rebellion, but not right away. That gave her little comfort as she presented herself.

“Mrs. Billings! You should not be here, child!” the old barber announced, seeing her walk into the town hall.

“Perl! You were told to go back to the ranch!” Hank shouted, rushing towards her, holding her tightly in his powerful arms.

“What are you doing here?! I specifically told you…” Dennis yelled, his face red with anger.

“Please, I need you to listen to me. You don’t know what you are up against. Hank, you need to tell them…”

“They know, wife. They are prepared to defend you and this town. I want you to go home,” Hank said darkly.

“No! I am not going anywhere. I made it so things would be a little more even and in our favor…” She told them of the traps she had arranged at the bridge and the road through the fields.

“You foolish girl. Do you think we’re a bunch of stupid cowboys? We already dropped several bear traps out as well as dug some pot holes. You are damned lucky that your horse didn’t get caught in one!” Dennis scolded loudly, not caring that there were a good thirty men and women witnessing her rebuke.

“I didn’t know…” Perl blushed with embarrassment at being spoken to as though she was a child in front of all her friends.

“Of course you didn’t! Did you really think you could take on these mobsters by yourself!” His voice rose to an all-time high, making her wince.

“But they have machine guns and…” she said meekly.

“Nothing can escape the eye of a Texas marksman. We are trained from birth to knock a flea off the head of a buzzard. Those men won’t make it past the Greeting post. Your butt is going to be redder than your face when I’m done with you, young lady!”

“But, Dennis…” Perl tried to explain, her voice stuttering as she pressed against Hank’s chest.

“Mrs. Billings, I think it would be a good idea if you come with old Daisy here and set a while for a cup of tea,” an older woman stated, moving in to rescue the girl from further humiliation. She placed herself between Perl and the town’s lawman, taking Perl’s arm gently to pull her alongside. Daisy looked over her shoulder, “I’ll take care of her, Judge. By the way, you men aren’t the only ones who can knock fleas off a buzzard.”

“Miss Daisy, I can’t leave them alone to fight Don Piccoli. Please…” Perl begged.

Daisy patted her hand. “Don’t you fret for a moment. Our boys have weathered far worse than a bunch of bullies from the city. Those mob men are playing on the hope that our little town runs scared like the other ones they’ve gone through, and they are betting that we have no defense without the police to help. No, ma’am, that ain’t gonna happen here. Our citizens are made from tougher stuff than those city men have ever seen.”

“I don’t want anyone getting hurt,” Perl started to cry in fear. Daisy held the young woman tightly against her well-padded body, lending the girl her strength and courage.

“There, there, child. The only way anyone’s gonna get hurt is if they do something stupid. And our boys are too smart to let that happen.”

“Really, truly?” Perl’s eyes were wet.

Daisy kissed her cheek and hugged her tightly, “Yes, child. Really, truly.”

* * *

Don Piccoli snarled distastefully as his large car barreled through the bleak low hills of the Texas landscape. He was angry, feeling that they were being sent on a merry chase through this God-forsaken and foul-smelling territory. The trip was horribly uncomfortable, with few paved roads and even fewer places to stop for food or rest. Their newest lead was to a tiny ‘town’ called Bellview, and consisted of nothing more than a couple of old buildings, a diner, and surrounding ranches. Once more, they seemed to have reached a dead end.

“How many bodies do we have to leave behind before someone decides to cooperate?” the Don asked the terrified gathering of twenty people as their sheriff lay on the hard ground before them. “I’m gonna ask you one more time and then start picking you off until I get an answer. Where is the Songbird?”

Two more bodies lay on the ground before the mayor’s wife started screaming, “Great Price! She’s up there at Great Price!”

“Lives on the Double Bar Ranch. Rumor has it she got herself wed to the Judge,” another man piped in, holding his daughter close to him in terror.

Don Piccoli glared into the man’s face. Ten minutes later, the mafia boss was on his way to Great Price with precise directions, but not before leaving behind another body.

* * *

“Just got a call, Sheriff. Eight men matching the description of the ones who were in Bellview were seen about a half hour from here. They’re in two big, black cars,” the postmaster announced, skidding into the hall.

Hank’s eyes narrowed. “Good, it’s getting dark and they don’t know our town like we do. Get to your stations, gentlemen, and let’s give these city slickers a good old fashioned Texas showdown. They might try to head out for the ranch. Are we ready for them?”

“Everything’s in place, Hank,” Dennis said. “Just watch your back with Diablo loose.”

“You let that crazy bull free range? He killed my last truck!” the smithy exclaimed with a half-smile.

“Let’s hope the old boy does the same for our friends,” Hank grinned evilly. “Speaking of crazy, will someone please make sure my wife stays safe? She might cause more damage than a deranged bull.”

“Don’t worry, Hank. Daisy will tie her down if she needs to,” Dennis assured him.

* * *

“Miss Daisy, I have a terrible headache. Do you mind if I go rest for a short while?” Perl asked sweetly, rubbing her brow. “I feel awfully dizzy.”

“My poor dear, this day must have been such a strain on you. Come upstairs with me… I have a nice, quiet room for you,” Daisy clucked, gently maneuvering Perl to the small room that overlooked the back of the house. “This should do you well. I’ll come check on you in a few.”

“Thank you so much. I should be fine after I sleep for a while,” Perl said, fretfully massaging her neck as she sat on the bed. She waited until Daisy closed the door behind her and she heard the woman’s heavy footsteps plod down the stairs. Biting her lip, she silently slid the window open and looked outside, gauging the fall from the ledge. She caught sight of a tree a few feet away that would provide a good way to get to the ground without breaking her neck. Holding her breath, she climbed outside.

* * *

The two large cars came to a halt at the crossroads. The mob boss emerged from his vehicle, demanding to know why they had stopped.

“Sorry Boss, but the sign. It says to go right but the old man at the filler station said left.”

“I’m sure a little cow town’s not gonna give us too much trouble. You take that way and if you don’t find a town in a few miles, turn back.”

“K, Boss. You heard the man!” Tony said, jumping back into the car.

“Idiots,” Don Piccoli muttered. “Go on, let’s get this done with. This fresh air is making me sick.”

One mile down the road, the vehicle hit a bear trap. Grumbling about the backwoods hicks, Don Piccoli found himself growing irritated with the delay as the driver changed the ruined tire.

“They know we’re coming, boss. I think we should…”

“You’re not paid to think. These clowns are no match for us and we’re not gonna be stopped by a couple of animal traps! Drive!”

Perl’s rigging of the small bridge resulted in the structure plummeting partway through, causing another delay as the three large men worked under their boss’ orders to push the vehicle out of the ditch these Texans called a riverbed. Don Piccoli was no longer irritated. He was furious.

“This has the makings of the old country. I’ll bet you that little slut has something to do with this,” he snarled. “Grab your pieces, boys. We’re gonna make short work of this town.”

“We’re sitting ducks, boss… We can’t just walk in without protection.”

“We have all the protection we need right here,” the angry man announced, holding up his Tommy gun. “Let’s find that snot nosed brat and put her lights out.”

* * *

“Val, look, there’s a sign pointing to town. I think I see some lights… What was that?!” Tony barked, feeling the vehicle suddenly start to lose control.

“Sounded like one of the tires blew.”

The four men exited the car and stared at the tires, each of which bore a nail studded wooden plank. They started to swear loudly before being interrupted by the sound of a snort. Slowly, they turned to stare down the headlight beam into the angry red eyes of Diablo, aptly named ‘devil’. The massive bull had a nasty reputation for destroying anything manmade that dared to cross its path. He had earned permanent pasture time after countless failures to ride him by many a rodeo cowboy, and he was on a mission to make life a living hell for all human beings.

The four mobsters raced out of the way as the two-thousand pound longhorn charged madly at the disabled vehicle, hooking the door with one short gouge and yanking it clear from the car. Having left their weapons on the seats, the men had no way to defend themselves from the raging animal and watched in stunned terror as it smashed angrily against the car with its horns and hooves, leaving huge dents and shattering the glass.

“The tree. Get up the damn tree!” Val whispered, walking backward to the wide-limbed oak. The four men watched breathlessly as the bull tore the vehicle to pieces like it was made of paper. They could only imagine what it would have done to them, and they hoped that someone would eventually be by to help. Even a lawman looked good in lieu of facing Diablo’s insane rage.

* * *

Perl tiptoed past the town hall, rifle in hand, wondering where the men were. Her heart caught in her throat when she saw the oncoming forms of the four broad figures carrying large machine guns. Her hands shook as she aimed for the one in the center. She slowly pulled back on the trigger as Dennis had taught her, forcing herself to breathe deeply and focus.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she heard a hiss from behind her. She slowly turned to look into the angry eyes of her husband. “Can’t you follow directions just once?”

“I couldn’t let you fight him alone. Hank, this is MY blood feud now. He murdered my family.”

“I am your family, young lady. And when we are finished here, I promise you that after I make love to you until you beg me to stop, you are going to get a switching you will never forget.”

“Hank, please try…”

“Shhh, he’s coming this way.”

“Let me kill him,” Perl pleaded.

“No. Unless he presents a threat, it is not self-defense. He is wanted in six states and we will take him in for trial.”

Perl recognized the set of her husband’s chin, knowing that he would not budge from his position. Very well, if he wanted to play the self-righteous one and require self-defense before the mob boss was killed, then self-defense it would be…

“Don Piccoli!” she suddenly yelled out, her rifle aimed at his chest. Hank felt his heart skip a beat as she slipped away from him.

“Senora Moretti! How pleasant to see you. I’ve come to bring you home.”

“I am home. I go nowhere with you. Not alive.”

“We can arrange that.”

“Perl! Get down!” Hank shouted as gunfire began to echo through the quiet town, coming from all directions. Seconds passed and then there were four mobsters on the dirt ground. Perl stood up and cautiously walked to Don Piccoli.