Rosa's Land: Western Justice - book 1 (2 page)

The young woman said again, “I don’t see how you do it. Look how you’ve mixed all those colors together!”

“Well, I don’t do it too well yet.”

“Yes, I think you do. How long have you been painting?”

“All my life, it seems.”

“My, ain’t that a treat!”

Faye glanced over and caught a glimpse of the Riordans’ driver, Pat Ryan, a hundred feet away. He was talking to a woman and waving his big hamlike hands in the air as he described something. Quickly Faye turned and said, “Well, I’ve got to catch this light if you don’t mind.”

“You mind if I watch?”

“Not at all.”

Faye continued to paint the delicate leaves that clung to the trees. They kept just the right shades of green, and the young woman kept up a running commentary.

Suddenly he heard another voice and looked up to see a large, husky man wearing a derby hat. His face was blunt, and he had small eyes. When he grinned, gold flashed on two teeth in his mouth. His clothes didn’t seem to fit him, for his arms filled the fabric of the shirt he wore, threatening to tear it. “Well, ain’t that a pretty little picture now.”

Faye said politely, “Thank you. It’s not finished yet.”

“That’s right sweet, ain’t it, girlie?”

“I think it’s very nice.”

“Well, you don’t need to fool around with this sissy painter. Come on with me. We’ll have a good time.”

“Turn me loose!”

Faye twisted his head and saw that the big man had the woman by her arm and was dragging her along. “Don’t do that!” he said quickly. He put down his brush and palette and moved toward the two.

“What are you going to do, beat me up?” The big man grinned. “Go back to your painting, sonny.” The big man was squeezing the girl’s arm tightly enough to make her cry out.

Faye reached out and pulled at the man’s arm. “Don’t do that, please. You’re hurting her.”

“You’re going to stop me?”

Faye could not answer. The man was six inches taller than he was and muscular. Muscles from hard work and hands that showed hard usage. The bully was grinning at him, and he could only say, “I’m asking you to let the young woman go, or I’ll have to—”

“You’ll have to what? Call for a policeman? There ain’t none here.” Suddenly he threw his meaty hand out and caught Faye in the chest and knocked him backward.

Faye caught his balance, but the big man had released the girl and came at him. Faye took a blow directly to his face and felt the blood suddenly run down his cheek. More blows rained upon him. He could not catch his balance, and finally he fell.

The young woman cried out, “Please, don’t!”

The man raised his foot to kick Faye and said, “Don’t worry. He needs a lesson.”

There was a sound of footsteps just as the man delivered a kick into Faye’s unprotected side.

The big man turned to find someone as large as himself coming at him. He got his hands up, but he could not ward off the tremendous blow that caught him in the mouth. He again threw his fists up and tried to defend himself. “Hey, cut it ou …,” he tried to yell, but once again a blow struck his mouth. Then suddenly he was struck in the throat. He began to gag. Without warning, Pat Ryan kicked in the side of his knee, and the bully fell to the ground. Pat then delivered a tremendous kick that drove the man’s breath out.

“You’ll kill him!” the young woman cried.

“Ah, he’s too mean to die.” Pat Ryan knelt down beside Faye. “You all right, sir?”

Faye could only manage a moan in response.

Ryan picked Faye up as easily as if he were a child and made his way to the carriage.

The young woman followed and said, “Is he going to be all right?”

“I hope so, ma’am.” He placed Faye in the backseat, shut the door, and then moved back to retrieve Faye’s painting and his easel. He returned and leaped to the driver’s seat saying, “Get up! Get up!”

The carriage rocked back and forth as it bounced over the gravel, but Faye Riordan was in too much pain to mind.

The Riordan family had finally sat at the dining table to eat, for Caleb had said, “Well, I’m hungry. Faye can eat when he gets here.”

Before anything could be served, Charles Evans, the butler, came running in. He was a tall man, very thin and balding. Now his eyes were open wide. “Sir, it’s Mr. Faye. He’s hurt!”

The whole family pushed away from the table.

As they got to the front door, the driver was bringing Faye in.

“What happened?” Eileen cried out.

“He got beat up.”

“Quick, put him in his bed. Charles, you get Dr. Baxter quick as you can. He’s just the second street down.”

“Yes, madam. I’ll do it right away.”

“This way, Pat.”

Ryan carried Faye to his room and placed him on his bed.

Eileen was trembling, for Faye’s face was battered and he was bleeding freely from a cut on his eyebrow. She took her handkerchief and covered the wound.

“He looks terrible!” Max exclaimed.

“What happened, Ryan?” Caleb demanded.

“Well, sir, he was painting, and I was just wandering around, but I turned and saw this big guy was pounding Mr. Faye and starting to kick him.”

“You shouldn’t have let him do that.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I was too far away. But when I did get to him, I fixed him good.” He grinned broadly and nodded. “I busted his front teeth out, I hit him in the throat so he couldn’t talk, and then I kicked his legs out from under him and gave him a couple kicks in the side. He was out, whimpering like a baby, when I left.”

“I wish you had killed him,” Caleb said.

“Well, sir, I couldn’t do that. They put a fellow in jail for that, but he won’t be fighting much anytime in the future.”

“You did a good job.” Caleb reached in his pocket and pulled out a roll of bills. He peeled off three or four of them and said, “Here, take this.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, sir.”

“No, I want you to have it. Go ahead. If I find this fellow, I’ll break his neck!”

“All of you wait outside,” Eileen said. “Faye doesn’t need any more trouble.”

The three men left reluctantly.

Within ten minutes, Dr. Lucas Baxter entered Faye’s room. He was a slender man of fifty with black hair and dark eyes. “What’s happened?” he demanded.

“Faye was beaten,” Eileen said. “He’s in pretty bad shape.”

“Let me see.” Baxter removed the bloody handkerchief and said, “I’ll have to put some stitches here, and he’ll have a little scar.” He touched Faye, who groaned in response. “Must have hurt his ribs.”

“Our driver said the man kicked him.”

“Well, if those ribs are broken, it’s going to take awhile to heal. But maybe they’re just cracked.”

He tried to get Faye to swallow something from a brown bottle and waited for a minute. When he saw that Faye was out, he began sewing the wound up. He worked rapidly. “Who did this, Mrs. Riordan?”

“Some man in the park.”

“Well, if your husband catches him, he’ll kill him.”

“No, I don’t want that. My husband has made the other boys into what he respects, strong men but hard.”

“Well, Faye’s not like that.”

“No, he’s not. I spent my life making a gentle man out of him. He’s going to be a fine painter.”

Caleb was waiting with Leo and Max when the doctor came from attending Faye. “How is he, Dr. Baxter?”

“He’ll be all right. I think his ribs are cracked, so he’ll be moving slowly.”

“Thank you, doctor. Charles will show you out.” After the doctor left, Caleb turned to his two older sons and said, “Didn’t I tell you? He’s just a baby! He’s got to have somebody to take care of him.”

“We can’t be with him all the time,” Leo said. “You better pay Ryan more money and have him never get far away from him.”

“It’s a shame a man twenty years old can’t take care of himself any better … especially
my
son.”

Pat Ryan was eating a piece of pie that he had begged from Kate Evans, the cook. She was the wife of Charles, the butler, and was the best cook Ryan had ever known.

Doris Stevens, a very attractive maid, was sitting on a chair beside May Satterfield, the other maid. Both were listening to his story.

He had told them about the fight three days ago with the man who was beating Faye Riordan and ended by saying, “It’s a good thing I was there. I think that bruiser might have killed Mr. Faye.”

“Did you hurt him?” Doris asked.

“I put his lights out. When I left, he wasn’t talking much. He had lost some teeth, and I cracked him right in the throat and kicked him in the side.”

“Oh, Mr. Faye’s such a fine-looking young man,” Doris said. “Really handsome.”

“You been flirting with him, Doris?”

“You bet. I plan to get him to marry me. Then I’ll be your boss, both of you.”

“He don’t pay any attention to women,” May said.

“He’s a man, ain’t he? I’ll catch him off guard. Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to get caught. He’ll have to marry me then, and I’ll be a Riordan. I’ll be your boss.”

“Nah, that won’t happen. Mr. Faye, he wouldn’t take advantage of a maid,” Pat said, shaking his head.

“No, but I might take advantage of him.” She laughed and winked merrily. “In fact, I’ll bet he could use some refreshment right about now.”

Pat shook his head at May as he returned to his pie.

Faye was sitting at the piano running his fingers over the keys. He turned, holding his side and wincing at the pain from his cracked ribs, when someone entered the room.

It was Doris bringing him a glass of iced tea.

Faye simply said, “Thank you, Doris. You take care of me too well.”

“Well, you need someone to take care of you.” She reached out and put her hand on his face. “The swelling has all gone down, and you’ve almost lost that awful-looking black eye you had.” She left her hand on his face and said, “I’m so sorry. I wish I could take some of the hurt.”

She then leaned against him, pressing her figure against his shoulders. “You need a friend. A lady friend.”

At that instant his mother walked in. She took one look and said, “Doris, I think you’re wanted in the kitchen.”

Eileen waited until Doris left and then came over and looked down at Faye. “How do you feel, son?”

“Oh, I’ll live.”