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Authors: J. R. Wright

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Because
they

re
not saintly

if you know what I mean.


I

m
sure Yance thought of Hank as being more than just a beast of burden,

she said. 

All
things bright and beautiful

All creatures
great and small

All things wise and wonderful

The Lord God made them all
…”
 
Katie made her point.


Well,

Ralph said and rubbed a
hand over his clean shaven face. 

I
have some new lumber, if it

s a cross you
want, Katie?


No,
Ralph.  You did fine.  I do appreciate it

Yancey, too.  He said he

d settle with you when
he got out.  Would you like another beer?


No
thanks, Katie.  I got to get back.


Well,
then, thanks for the information.  I

ll
go over to the phone office shortly and give that Woody Clampett a call.  I
assume it

s long distance to Terryville?


It
is.  Nothing leaves Blazedale that isn

t. 
Make sure Marta doesn

t listen in once she

s
made the connection.  She has a habit of doing that, and then telling it all
over town.


What
is it that she doesn

t tell all over town? 
I don

t
know where that woman gets all her information.

 
Katie
chuckled.


Rubbernecking! 
Like I said
…”
 Ralph
laughed with her.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
EIGHT

When
Katie arrived back at the tavern to open at noon, she was disappointed there
wasn

t
a crowd waiting, as there had been the morning before.  But perhaps those involved
in the riot at the sheriff

s office last
night felt it too soon to be showing their faces about town.  However, some
customers did begin to trickle in as time went on.  The first was an old
farmer, Jake Pearson, from north of town, who came in frequently for a double
shot of whiskey, of which he sipped while smoking his pipe.  Generally he had
little or nothing to say, but today he couldn

t
seem to shut up.


Clyde
Banyon was put under early this morning
…”

Katie
was unaware, shocked the man had disappeared from her thoughts so soon after he

d
passed. 

Oh!


There
wasn

t
a single mourner
…”


Not
one?

 
Her father had told her
once:

Katie,
live life with compassion or you

ll
not be remembered once you

re
gone.


Nope. 
That Presbyterian preacher, Dewey

Fratt, I think his name is, said a few words anyway.  I think he read from the
book, because he could think of nothing good to say.  When Dewey said,

God
rest his soul,

I kinda expected it to thunder,
but there wasn

t a cloud in the sky.


You
were there, Jake?


Yeah,
but not to mourn

 
I just stopped by to see how deep the
hole was.


Why
would you want to know that?


I
figured since everybody knew where Clyde was heading in the hereafter, they

d
dig it extra deep to give him a head start.

 
Jake laughed at his own
joke until drool dripped from the corners of his near toothless mouth, onto his
shaggy grey beard, and tears skittered over the deep wrinkles of his cheeks.


Now
that wasn

t nice to say,

Katie
said forlornly. 

I

m
sure there must have been somebody that loved Clyde at some point in his life.


Maybe
his mother, for a moment, when he was still wet.  But that was before Clyde
slapped the midwife across the bare butt till she cried.

 
Jake continued with
laughter.

Even
Katie had to laugh at that one, but felt bad all the while she did it. 

Poor
Clyde.


Oh,
he wasn

t
poor,

Jake said. 

Nosiree! 
The way I heard it Clyde Banyon had a lot of money stashed.  Gold!  It

s
probably in that livery somewhere.  Buried under the floor, maybe.


Jake,
you can

t
know that for sure!

 
Katie looked around the room to see who
may have heard him and saw several paying close attention. 

Even
if he did have some

money, there must be
heirs?  Clyde must have family somewhere?


Well,
if there are, he never told anybody.  Some say Clyde was an outlaw, when he was
younger.  That

s where the gold came from, I
madgine.

Now,
the outlaw part, Katie could believe.  She flashed back to the three men that
were with him the day he died.  Come to think of it she couldn

t
recall seeing them before

or since. 
Fellow outlaws maybe

 
And maybe they killed him

for the gold?  It may be worth looking into, but where would she start?  The
livery?  Now she wondered if anyone had reopened the place

or if it

d
ever closed.

Katie
noticed Jake had finished his whiskey. 

Can
I get you another?

she said and reached
for the glass.


Nope! 
I

m
leaving,

he said, ran a boney
hand over his hairy face and slid from the stool. 

I
think I

ll
nose around over at that livery.


Is
it open for business?


No. 
But it

s
open.  It can

t help but be.  Somebody stole the
big doors

and the hinges they hung on.

Katie
panned the room again and saw four men already on their feet and heading for
the door.  Oh, God! 

Thank you!

she shouted as they
filed through the door.  Old Jake went next and the remainder of her customers
followed him out.  But she wasn

t alone long.  A
tall, suited, fiftyish man, wearing a Texas hat, came through the door moments
later.  There wasn

t a doubt in her mind
who this person was.


Good
golly, you must be Katie Peck,

he said, marched toward her, hand
outstretched. 

I declare, if you aren

t
just as pretty as you sounded on the telephone.

Katie
put on her best smile and touched at her hair before taking the big hand with
her fingertips.
 

Mister
Clampett?


That

s
me.

 
He tipped his hat and
briefly looked around. 

I headed right over
after speaking with your Mister Burke.


So
Yancey
is
there in Terryville?


He
is indeed

 
And
I might add he sends his heartfelt greetings.


Greetings?

Katie said, confused.


Well

 
I read people, Katie. 
There

s
truly a book in the human face, if a person has the patience to search it out. 
When I mentioned your name as the one who sent me, I swear that man lit up like
a fireworks display on the fourth of July.


He
did?

 
Katie blushed a little.


Yes,
ma

am

 
I do believe he likes you a lot.

 
Of course, it was Katie

s
face he was reading now.  Telling her, surely, what she wanted to hear.


Oh,
he

s
good,

Katie thought.  But how much of what this man had said should she allow herself
to believe?  First off she doubted very much Yancey was in love with her

if that

s
what he was intimating.  At least not in the way he

d
loved that old horse, Hank.  He may like her, which she was certain he did. 
Love, however, was a bit overdone where Yancey was concerned.  He probably didn

t
even know the meaning of the word. 

Are
they treating Yancey okay there, Mister Clampett?


Better
now that I insisted he be put in a private cell.


Oh
my God!  What happened?

 
Talk about reading faces, his suddenly
looked distressed.


Well,
Terryville Prison
…”


Prison? 
So Yancey wasn

t in the county lockup?


No
ma

am. 
Terryville is where they send the meanest and baddest, in Montana.


You
haven

t
told me what happened.


Well,
they banged him up a bit.  But he

ll
recover nicely
…”


Banged
him up?  How?

Katie screamed and covered her
mouth in anticipation.


He
sees real well out of the right eye

 
There are some marks
…”
 
He generally circled his face with a hand in an effort to lightly convey the
damage, without having to put the horror of Yancey

s
condition into words.


Oh
my God!  No wonder his face lit up like the fourth of
…”


The
good thing is, Katie, he

s safe now.  I also
insisted they remove the leg irons,

Woody said and reached
out to touch her arm in an effort to console her. 

You
know, it didn

t help that the man that dropped
him off listed him as a killer.


Killer

 
Accused, you mean?


Accused,
yes

 
That

s
what it should have said.  Maybe it was just a mistake on the deputy

s
part,

Clampett said, having
come to the realization he wasn

t dealing with
the average, ignorant of the law, yokel here. 

I
set them straight on that.


Who
was the deputy?


His
name is Kermit Striker.


Striker?

Katie said, outraged, and
she began to pace up and down in
back of the bar.  Each time she passed where the shotgun was under the counter,
she wanted to grab it, go directly across to the s
heriff

s
office and blow them all to kingdom come.
 

Can I see him?


No,
ma

am

 
Not unless you

re family.  And then it

s
the first Sunday of the month, between noon and five.


Can
you promise me he

ll be protected now

away from danger for the remainder of his time there, Mister Clampett?


I
can.  I know the warden personally.  Mister Burke will never go back to general
population.  Even his meals will be delivered to the cell.

Katie
didn

t
know what to think of that. 

Wouldn

t
that be like solitary confinement?


No,
ma

am. 
He has a window in his cell.  And he gets hourly trips to the bathroom, if
needed.

BOOK: The Last Buckaroo
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ads

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