Crow Bait (10 page)

Lancaster found out the family last name of George, Harry, Fred, Sam, and Hermione was Dickson. Apparently, Hermione’s age of forty made her the baby.

After the beef stew he walked over to the livery to check on Crow Bait.

“Not many men would give a horse like that a chance,” the liveryman said as he entered.

“You’re Sam, right?”

“That’s right.”

“I met your brothers George and Fred.”

“You had the beef stew?”

“Yes, I did.”

“It was good, huh?”

“It was better than good.”

Sam wiped his hand on his trousers and stuck it out.

Lancaster shook it and said his name.

“Horse don’t look like much, but he’s strong,” Sam said. “What’s his name?”

“Crow Bait.”

That made Sam laugh until he was bent over double, choking. “That’s rich. You come to see if I’ll take good care of him?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, don’t you worry,” Sam said. “He’s in good hands. Why don’t you go over to the saloon and have a drink?”

“And meet your cousin Dan, huh?”

“Dan,” Sam said with a face that said he didn’t like his cousin, “yeah.”

“What’s wrong with Dan?”

Sam shrugged. “He’s a cousin, not a brother.”

That seemed to be reason enough for the dislike.

“Well, I think I’ll take your advice,” Lancaster said. “I hope he’s got cold beer.”

“He’s got it,” Sam said. “We may be a small town, but we got everythin’ you’ll need.” Sam raised his eyebrows, grinned, and added, “Everythin’.”

Lancaster left the livery, wondering if “everything” meant sister Hermione?

Lancaster was unaware that he was being watched from a window on the second floor of the hotel as he crossed over to the saloon. The white lace curtain was pulled aside, remained that way until he entered the saloon, then fell back across the window.

The saloon was empty, except for the bartender. If Lancaster hadn’t been told that Dan was a cousin, he wouldn’t have recognized him as family. He didn’t look anything like the brothers. For one thing, they all had gray hair, while his was pitch-black.

“Welcome to the Peach Springs Saloon, friend,” the bartender said.

“You’re Dan, right?”

“Ah, I see you met my cousins already.”

“I did.”

“Well, belly up and tell me what your pleasure is.”

“Beer,” Lancaster said, “cold.”

“Comin’ up.”

Lancaster took off his hat, set it on the bar, and ran his hands through his hair.

“Been ridin’ long?” Dan asked, setting the beer down.

“Long enough.” Lancaster took two swallows of the cold beer, closed his eyes as the cold ran through him. How easy it would be just to sit and drink, switch to whiskey, and just drift away…

“You must be passin’ through,” Dan said.

“Why do you say that?”

“That’s all anybody ever does, pass through here. Nobody ever stops for more than a day or two.”

“And if they stop for a day or two, what is there to do?” Lancaster asked.

“Nothin’,” Dan said, “nothin’ at all.”

“Your cousin Sam said I could get anything I want here,” Lancaster said.

“Yeah, well,” Dan said, “that depends on how bad you want it.”

“Well, the food and the beer are good.”

“If you like beef stew all the time,” Dan said.

“Is that all your cousin Harry can make?”

“No,” Dan said, “he can make bacon and eggs.”

“Bacon and eggs and stew? That’s it?”

“Rolls,” Dan said. “He can bake rolls.”

“Well, that’s food and beer, anyway,” Lancaster said. “What about…other things?”

“Can’t get no supplies,” Dan said. “I mean, we could probably sell you some cartridges, let you have some coffee and bacon for the trail.”

“And that’s it?”

“What else is there?”

“Women?”

Dan made a face.

“You can have a woman if you don’t mind my cousin Hermione,” Dan said.

“The boys pimp out their sister?”

“Don’t let them fool you,” Dan said. “Hermione is the one in charge.”

“Really? I heard she was the baby of the litter.”

“She’s also the only one with any brains.”

“What about you?” Lancaster asked. “You seem to have some brains.”

“I’m only a cousin,” Dan said. “Thank God.”

“So Hermione whores herself out?”

“Don’t let the smiles fool you,” Dan said. “Any one of them will do anything to make a dollar.”

Lancaster took another measured swallow.

“You want another?”

“No, this is good. So tell me, why would anyone actually come here? I mean, why would they purposely head here?”

“Here? To town?” Dan shrugged. “Beats me. Maybe they’d go to one of the ranches, but here?”

“Maybe,” Lancaster said, “I should meet your cousin Hermione.”

George turned to see who was coming down the stairs—not that it was any great mystery.

Hermione Dickson crossed to the desk and stared at her brother, whose smile seemed to freeze.

“Who’s the man who just rode in?”

“Henry says his name is Lancaster.”

“What did he want?”

“A room.”

Hermione was not a large person. In fact, all of her brothers were physically larger than her, but they were cowed by her intelligence and the force of her personality.

“That’s all?”

“That’s all he asked for.”

Hermione looked inward and said, “It don’t make sense. He must be here for somethin’.”

“Well,” her brother said, “we got all night to find out what.”

Lancaster nursed his beer.

Dan just stood behind the bar and watched.

“You ever get any other customers?”

“Sure,” Dan said. “Some of the ranch hands come in once in a while, but there are a couple of saloons in Audley, more in Seligman.”

“That’s a long ride.”

“Some of the ranches are halfway between here and Audley. Just as long a ride either way. More beer and women there.”

That made coming to Peach Springs even more of a mystery. Maybe he was in the wrong place. Maybe there was another town with peach in the name. He posed the question to Dan.

“Not that I know of,” the bartender said. “Not in Arizona, anyway.”

“Why do you stay here?” Lancaster asked.

“Why?” Dan spread his arms. “I own all this. If I go someplace else, I won’t own nothin’.”

“I guess you have a point there.”

“Besides,” Dan added, “Hermione won’t let me go, and I’m as afraid of her as her brothers are. Maybe more, because I don’t think she’d hesitate to kill me.”

“I’m gettin’ more and more curious to meet this woman.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” Dan said. “She’s probably been watchin’ you from on high.”

“On high?”

“Second floor of the hotel, front,” Dan said. “Hermione made sure she has the best room in the hotel.”

“Down the hall from me?”

“Probably.”

Lancaster pushed the beer mug away with a third of it still there.

“Somethin’ wrong?” Dan asked.

“I’ve had enough,” Lancaster said. “Since we’re bein’ so clear and honest with each other, Dan, let me ask you a question.”

“Go ahead,” Dan said, leaning his elbows on the bar. “Bartenders are good at answering questions.”

“Well, maybe more than one,” Lancaster said. “Have there been any other strangers in town in the past—oh, month or so?”

“Nope,” Dan said. “None.”

“You answered that one real quick.”

“I think I’d notice if any strangers came to town.”

“Yeah, I guess you would.”

“Are you here lookin’ for somebody?”

“I am looking for somebody,” Lancaster said, “and I thought they might have passed through here.”

“Why?” Dan asked. “Why would anybody come here?”

“For the beef stew?”

At that point the batwings opened and one of
the brothers came in. At the moment, Lancaster didn’t know which one it was.

“Hello, George.”

“Dan.”

“What are you doin’ here?” Dan asked. “Why aren’t you at the hotel?”

“No customers,” George said. “So Hermione sent me over.”

Dan gave Lancaster a “See, I told you so” look.

“Does she want me?” Dan asked. “Or our guest?”

George frowned at Dan and asked, “Why would she want to see you?”

Lancaster followed George back to the hotel and up to the second floor. Sam gave him a smile along the way. Going up the stairs, he remembered Dan telling him not to be fooled by their smiles.

He noticed that none of the brothers wore guns, so he didn’t feel threatened. He didn’t see any reason not to follow George up to Hermione’s room. After all, she was in charge, and he probably should have been talking to her the whole time.

George led him down the hallway, past his room, to the door at the end of the hall. There they stopped, and George knocked.

“Come in,” a woman’s voice said.

George opened the door.

Lancaster was about to get his first look at Hermione Dickson, who seemed to be in charge of the entire town—all three buildings—of Peach Springs, Arizona.

“Hermione?” George said. His voice quavered just a bit. “Mr. Lancaster is here.”

“Get out, George,” the woman said.

“Yes, Hermione.” George gave Lancaster a look, then turned and went back up the hall.

“Come on in, Lancaster,” Hermione said.

He walked in the door and saw her standing by
the window. She was a tall, rawboned woman with short red hair, wearing a plain cotton dress that obviously had nothing underneath it. The kindest thing you could say about her was that she was a handsome woman. Not what you’d expect to find in a whorehouse or a saloon. He supposed if a man came to town looking for a woman, and Hermione was what he got, he could make it work.

“Close the door, please,” she said.

He did.

“I been watchin’ you since you came to town,” she said.

“That a fact?”

“Oh yeah. You spent some time talkin’ to my cousin Dan.”

“He’s a bartender,” Lancaster said. “That’s what you do with a bartender, you talk to him.”

She stood framed in the window, the light coming in from behind her, making her dress almost transparent. She had to be aware of that, but she didn’t have the body to give it the desired effect.

She folded her arms beneath her small breasts.

“Why did you come to Peach Springs, Lancaster?”

“I’m told men come here for the food, and the, uh, female companionship.”

“You got a good look at me, right?” she asked, dropping her arms to her sides. “You think men come here for me? You didn’t come here for me.”

Lancaster gave it some quick thought. He had not seen a gun since he arrived, and certainly no one had made any kind of threatening move toward him. The entire town was made up of one woman, her four brothers, and their cousin—who
seemed to be the smartest of the men. And he said he hadn’t seen a stranger in town in over a month.

“Okay,” Lancaster said, “okay, Hermione—uh, Miss Dickson.”

“Hermione’s good,” she said. “Just Hermione.”

He wondered why, with a name like that, she didn’t have some sort of nickname.

“Hermione, I’m looking for a man named Adderly,” he said. “I was told he was coming here to meet a man, named Cardiff.”

“Cardiff?” she repeated. “You’re lookin’ for Cardiff?”

“Actually, I’m looking for three men,” he said. “Adderly, Cardiff, and Sweet.”

“I don’t know anybody named Sweet,” she said, “but I know Cardiff.”

“Not Adderly? Chet Adderly?”

“No, not Adderly. Just Cardiff, Jim Cardiff.”

“I don’t know his first name,” Lancaster said, “but Cardiff’s not a common name, so it must be him. Where is he?”

“He’s gone.” She folded her arms again.

“Gone? Gone where?”

“Just gone. Let’s talk about you. Did the boys tell you about the toll?”

“Toll? What toll? They didn’t mention anything.”

“Anybody who rides through Peach Springs has to pay a toll.”

Lancaster wondered what the hell she was talking about.

“Hermione, we’re getting off the point.”

“No, we’re not,” she said. “The toll is the point. See, you can’t leave town without payin’ the toll.”

“What toll?” Lancaster was getting frustrated. “Nobody said anything about a toll.”

“George!” she suddenly yelled. The door opened and George appeared. “Nobody told Lancaster about the toll?”

“Not yet, Hermione, dear.”

“Why not?”

“We just didn’t get to it yet.”

“What if he don’t have any money?”

“He’s got money,” George said. “I saw it when he paid for his beef stew. He’d got a lot of money.”

Lancaster had kept his money on him, rather than leave it in his room. He still had most of the thousand dollars Andy Black had given him.

So that was it. They were after his money. But how did they expect to get it?

“Look,” he said, “all I’m interested in is where Cardiff or Adderly went when they left here.”

“When they left?” Hermione asked.

“That’s right.”

“You don’t got to worry about that,” she said. “Let’s talk about the toll.”

“Okay,” he said, “let’s get this out of the way. What about the toll? How much is it?”

“Half,” she said.

“Half of what?”

“Half of whatever you have,” she said.

“He’s got a lot,” George said again.

“George,” she said, “go talk to your brothers.”

“Talk to—”

“Go!”

“Oh,” he said, as if he just got it. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she said, after George had gone, “how much have you got?”

“It doesn’t matter how much I’ve got, Hermione,” Lancaster said, “I’m not giving you any of it.”

“In that case,” she said, firming her jaw, “you’ve got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“If you don’t pay our toll,” she said, “you don’t leave Peach Springs alive.”

Lancaster stared at her for a few moments, wondering if she was serious.

“Yes,” she said.

“Yes, what?”

“You’re wonderin’ if I’m serious,” she said. “The answer is yes.”

“I’m also wonderin’ how you’re gonna enforce that threat,” he said.

She smiled, and just for a moment she became pretty. He wished he could have seen her when she was in her twenties.

“I’ve got four brothers,” she said.

“With no guns.”

“They have guns,” she said. “You just haven’t seen them yet. And they know how to use them.”

Lancaster studied her. She was dead serious. He’d been taken. Just because he hadn’t seen any guns didn’t mean there weren’t any. Don’t be fooled by the smiles.

“What about your cousin?”

“Dan? What about him? He’s a cousin.”

“He’s a good bartender.”

“That’s about all he is,” she said. “No, it’s me and my brothers you have to worry about.”

“Well,” Lancaster said, “it’s me you have to worry
about. You’re in this room with me, and I don’t see a gun on you.”

“You wouldn’t shoot an unarmed woman.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’ve known a lot of men like you,” she said. “They come here, they pay the toll, or they die.”

“Not me,” he said.

“What makes you so special?”

“I’ve got you,” he said. “You’re gonna get me out of here alive.”

She smiled. “Look out the window.”

She moved away from the window so he could walk to it. He kept one eye on her, just in case she had a gun hidden somewhere.

When he looked out the window, he saw the four brothers standing in the street in front of the hotel. They all wore guns on their hips.

“They know how to use them,” she said.

“You said that already.”

“No, I mean they really know how to use them.”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

“So you’re not gonna pay?”

“Not one penny.”

“You’re gonna walk out there?”

“With you,” he said, “yes. You’re gonna get me my horse and I’m gonna leave your little town. It’s up to you and your brothers who’s still alive when I do.”

She stared at him. “Lancaster? That’s your name?”

“Yes.”

“Should I know that name?”

He could see it in her eyes. She was starting to think that maybe they had made a mistake this time.

“Probably not,” he said. “Not if you’ve spent your whole life here, in this little town.”

“I guess I should stick my head out once in a while,” she admitted.

“Well,” he said, “you’re gonna stick your head out now. Come on, let’s go.”