The Edge of Town (9 page)

Joy held tightly to Julie’s hand. Her eyes were bright with excitement, and for once she was still. This was the first time since she was old enough to be aware of it that she had ridden in an automobile. The other time was when she was a baby and the doctor had come out because she was running a high fever. He had suggested that Julie and Joy return to town with him and spend the night in the spare room at his office so that he could keep an eye on the child.

Julie put her arm around Joy and hugged her close. She wanted so much for this precious little girl who had been thrust into her life.

“Where are we going, Papa?” Jill moved up onto the edge of the seat.

“Just up the road a piece.”

“Can we stop and show Ruby?”

“We’ll not be going that far, Sis,” Jethro said as they approached the Humphrey farm. “We’ll turn around here.”

He’s hoping that Birdie Stuart will see that he’s got a car
. The thought popped into Julie’s head and immediately, she was ashamed of it. The Humphrey children and Birdie’s little girl were playing in the lane. They stopped and watched the car turn around. Jill called out and waved. When Julie looked back, she saw the children running to the house to tell the news.

“Joe’ll be surprised,” Jack said as his father drove back home. “He’s been wishin’ we had a car.”

When Jethro stopped the car in the area between the barn and the house, he didn’t turn off the engine.

“I suspect he will,” he said, pulling up on the emergency brake. “You all get out. I’m going to take it out for a little spin—”

“Can I go?” Jason asked eagerly.

“No, son. I’m going to see if I can get her up to about thirty-five and I don’t want you kids in the car.”

“Thirty-five what?”

“Miles an hour. They’ve got cars now that go up to forty or fifty.”

“Fifty miles in an hour.” Jack whooped. “I’m going to do it someday. Ride in an airplane, too.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Julie said staunchly as she lifted Joy down from the running board.

“Ah, Sis,” Jack said. “I wouldn’t get hurt or nothin’.”

“I might stop over and see what Evan thinks about welding the fenders.” Jethro released the brake.

“Be careful.” Julie grasped Joy’s hand and backed away from the car.

As she stood in the yard and watched the automobile bounce down the lane toward the road and then turn right toward the Humphreys’, Julie felt an anguished moment of fear and dread of what the future might hold for the family. She glanced at Jack and was surprised to see that the happy grin had left his face. The look in the boy’s eyes as they met hers over the heads of their younger brother and sister told Julie that she wasn’t alone in her concern that their father was enamored of the young widow. Should she return his affection, it could make a drastic change in their family.

* * *

The regular meeting of the City Council of Fertile was convened at five
P.M.
in the back room of the furniture store. Present were Amos Wood, banker; Ronald Poole, hardware and feed store owner; Frank Adler, druggist; Herman Maddock, furniture store owner and undertaker (or funeral director, as he’d rather be called); and Ira Brady, owner of the Fertile Telephone Company and mayor. Invited to sit in on the meeting was Marshal Sanford.

The minutes of the last meeting were read and approved. The town treasurer, Herman Maddock, reported a balance of $5,672.13, after an expenditure of $323.45 to repair the water tower.

“What did they do, for Christ’s sake?” Amos Wood demanded.

“You know what had to be done, Amos,” Ronald Poole, who was in charge of the project, explained. “You complained when the tank had to be drained so they could prop it back up. One side of the stand it’s sitting on had sunk down until it looked like that tower they got over in France or Italy or wherever the hell it is. We couldn’t leave it till it fell over.”

“Seems like a lot of money. I suppose you sold the hardware to the town to fix it.”

“Would you rather we had gone out of town to buy it? I made a profit, but a damn little one.” Poole’s face took on a hard look and he jutted his chin.

Mayor Brady cleared his throat. “Do we accept the treasurer’s report?” There was a murmur of ayes and no nays.

“Report accepted,” Ira said firmly. “Now we’ve got important business to settle today, business we’ve had hanging for damn near a year.” A chair creaked. Ira glanced at Amos as the banker settled into a new position, indicating his displeasure concerning the topic to be discussed.

“You still on that kick, Ira?” Amos asked. “We’ve got a marshal. Don’t you think he’s doing his job?”

“Of course he’s doing his job,” Ira retorted sharply. “He’s a
district
marshal. He covers a fourth of the state of Missouri. That’s why we need our own police.”

“Why spend the money for a policeman when all he’ll do is direct traffic on Saturday and arrest a drunk or two? Hell, Ira, we don’t even have a county jail.”

“Mr. Poole has an idea for that.”

“More business for the hardware, huh, Ron?”

Ronald Poole stood. All six feet two inches towered over the banker.

“I’ve taken about all the slurs I’m goin’ to take from you, Amos. You’ve got your ass over the line because, after I paid off my mortgage, I switched my account to Peterson’s Savings and Loan. You’ve been ridin’ my back ever since.”

“Gentlemen, we have a guest. You can settle your personal differences outside this meeting. Amos, we passed a resolution almost a year ago that a policeman would be procured for Fertile. Unless you want to introduce a motion to repeal that resolution, this discussion is out of order.” Ira waited a full minute, and when nothing more was said, he introduced the guest.

“You all know Marshal Sanford. I asked him to come today to explain fully the situation we face here.”

Once the creaking of chairs and the scuffling of feet on the plank floor ceased and the room was quiet, Marshal Sanford leaned forward and put his elbows on the table.

“First let me speak on the matter of the jail. The town of Fertile should join with the county to put a jail in the basement of the courthouse. There’s room down there and it would be handy. Wouldn’t cost much.”

“That was Ron’s idea,” Ira said. “We’ll have to do it sooner or later as the population grows.”

“It’s a good idea,” Frank Adler agreed.

“Well, I’ll put in my two cents’ worth and you can decide what you want to do.” The marshal leaned back in his chair. “It’s just as plain as the nose on my face, folks. I have so much territory to cover that, even with the help of my deputy, I can’t possibly serve the town of Fertile as it should be served. I live thirty-five miles from here, right in the middle of my territory. I can’t be running up here every time you have a neighborhood squabble or someone steals a watermelon. In my opinion anything that happens in Fertile can be handled by a man of good standing with the support of the council and my help, if needed.”

Herman Maddock spoke up. “We have some petty crime here, not much traffic, but a few brawls down around Well’s Point after we took it into the town limits. Any man with a good head on his shoulders and a ready fist should be able to handle the job.”

“What do you plan to pay this … peacekeeper?” Amos Wood’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.

Ira took a deep breath. “Marshal Sanford suggests fifty dollars a month and that we pay for his weapon.”

Amos rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and his fat cheeks quivered as he gritted his teeth.

“Have you something else to say, Amos?” Ira asked.

“No. No. You’ll just barrel on ahead. I thought I was the financial advisor on this council. When you bankrupt the town, you’ll—”

“We won’t come to you for a loan if I have anything to say about it,” Ron Poole said firmly.

“Do you have anyone in mind?” the undertaker asked in his mild-mannered way of bringing the discussion back on track.

“Marshal Sanford has made a recommendation,” Ira said.

“We realized that we couldn’t get an experienced man out of Kansas City or St. Louis without paying him considerably more money than we can afford. The man he recommends is from the southern part of the state, down around Joplin. He was with the military police during the war. That would make him qualified for a police job in the city, but he would rather settle down in a small town. He is a single man who lost his fiancée while he was away at war.” Ira placed several pieces of paper on the table.

“I have here a copy of his army discharge, an evaluation from his superior officer and several personal endorsements. The marshal tells me that he is twenty-six years old and an excellent marksman.”

“You planning on having him shoot someone, Ira?” Amos asked.

“If your bank was being robbed, wouldn’t you want the policeman you called to be able to shoot straight?”

Amos grunted and looked out the window.

Marshal Sanford’s chair scraped the floor as he got to his feet.

“I’ll bring the man in and you can talk to him. Nice seeing you again, Ira.” He extended his hand, then shook hands with the rest of the council members. “If Appleby doesn’t work out, let me know. I’ll see what I can do about finding another man.”

Marshal Sanford left the door open when he left the room. A short while later, he returned with a tall, lean but not thin, dark-haired man with broad shoulders and a scar that sliced across one eyebrow onto his cheek. It showed a pale, thread-like line through his summer tan. He carried a brown felt hat in his hand.

“Corbin Appleby, gentlemen.” Marshal Sanford made the announcement, clapped the man on the shoulder, went out and closed the door.

Mayor Ira Brady extended his hand, introduced him to the rest of the council, then invited him to take a seat.

“Why do you want to move to a town the size of Fertile?” Amos Wood began the interview with the blunt question.

Corbin Appleby looked him in the eye. “Why not? Isn’t it a desirable place to live?”

“It is,” the banker answered quickly. “Fertile is a quiet, law-abiding town, prosperous—”

“Glad to hear it.” Appleby turned then to Ira Brady. “I want you to know, Mr. Brady, that if I accept this job, I have my own firearm.”

“If he
accepts
…listen to that.” Amos chortled.

Appleby turned cold eyes on the banker. “Would you prefer we not lay all our cards on the table?”

“Of course I want honesty. But you don’t seem to be aware that you’re not the only man in the state qualified for the job.”

“I never assumed that I was. I was invited here for an interview, but perhaps I’m wasting my time.”

“Mr. Appleby,” Frank Adler spoke up. “Mr. Wood is only one man on this council. The other four of us would like to continue the interview.”

After a long silent moment, Mr. Appleby nodded his head.

Thirty minutes later, the chairman of the council said, “Thank you, Mr. Appleby. Will you wait outside, please? We will come to a decision and be with you shortly.”

There was silence again while Corbin Appleby went out and closed the door behind him.

Herman Maddock, the undertaker, had not said much except to ask a question or two. Now he was ready to speak his piece.

“Mr. Appleby appears to be a responsible man. He seems intelligent, and the marshal feels that he’ll not use the job to push anybody around.”

“He pays his bills,” Ron Poole added.

“We should have interviewed Evan Johnson. He was in the army and had a higher rank than this bozo.” Amos made the statement defensively. Four sets of eyes turned on him.

“Bozo? Is that what you think of a man who fought on foreign soil for his country?” The undertaker’s rarely shown temper was about to surface.

“He wasn’t in the trenches, for God’s sake!”

“How do you know? Who do you think took charge of the German prisoners? He didn’t get that scar on his face sittin’ on his fist leaning back on his thumb.”