Authors: J. R. Biery
“Is that why you sent them?”
The banker rose to his feet, his neck bulging, his face red
in outrage. “That’s twice you’ve accused me of this nonsense. Why would I be
behind rustlers? If you want to report the raid, talk to the sheriff.”
Jackson rose to his full height and glared down at him. “I
saw them drinking with your man, the sheriff. Tony tells me they’re all staying
at the Eastman place, Hogue, one of the Sweats, and two strangers. You just
told me you own the place, but you want me to believe you don’t know about
them? Come on Charlie.”
“I’m telling you the truth, you’re way off course on this.”
“They opened the panel in the closet. Took Hattie’s money
and stole Donna’s jewelry. Only you, Donna, and I knew about that secret hiding
place in the closet. So why did you send them Charlie?”
“I swear on Donna’s name, I know nothing about this.”
“I saw where they stopped at your house. I followed their
tracks there. You may be a big man in town and own the law, but I’ll wire the
Texas Rangers. If they come on my place, threaten my wife or child, I’ll damn
well kill them.”
Dawson stood, florid with rage. “Get out, get out of here.
You’re crazy Jackson. If it weren’t for Donna and J.D., I’d...,” he stopped,
the bluster swallowed at the intensity of Jackson’s glare.
On his way out of town, Jackson stopped and telegraphed the
Rangers at Austin, then sat to wait for an answer.
He saw the tracks, fresh ones as he rode toward home. Fear
raised the hair at the back of his neck. He raised his gun and fired twice
quickly, hoping his men would hear the signal and reach the ranch in time.
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It was Red, the newest outlaw, who noticed the kid watching
the place. It took a day, but Able found out where he was staying in town,
sleeping with a little Mexican named Maria. It was easy to waylay him on his
way out to the ranch in the morning. They argued about it, but finally left him
beaten but tied up in the cabin. Red had plans to bring the little Mexican out
for a visit. The plan pleased Rafe, but first he needed to take care of the
Stoddard girl.
They smiled when they found the ranch empty, but then smiled
even bigger when they saw the older couple walk up from the creek, giggling
like kids and holding a string of fish. He sent Red and Pierce around to the
front of the house, he and Able sprinted to the back corner of the building,
pleased to see the curtains moving in the light breeze. Hogue peeked in to see
the blue skirt on top of the bed. They waited until they heard the others enter
the house. Signaling Sweat to be quiet, he eased the window up and climbed over
the window sill.
Able followed him in. They stood listening to the breathing,
then Able stepped over to the crib while Rafe stood staring down at Hattie.
Hattie woke, feeling like a snake was crawling over her and
screamed when she saw them. Able Sweat had his gun out and it was aimed at J.D.
From the other side of the door she heard raised voices, James shouting, a
crash, and then laughter.
Hattie sprang to her feet but Rafe held the gun up for her
to see. “Not too fast, Mrs. Harper, you’ll wake the baby.”
Hattie shrank back against the dresser, her mouth dry with
fear. “No, not again.”
Able laughed, grabbing his crotch. “Oh yeah, again and
again, ain’t that right, Rafe.”
Their laugher ran through her, leaving her knees weak.
Hattie sagged against the bed, her eyes wide with horror.
“Take off your clothes,” Rafe barked.
Hattie shook her head, “No, no I won’t.”
“Yeah, you will,” Rafe snarled, “Pick up that baby, Able.”
“No,” Hattie screamed and J.D. woke crying, his little face
a mask of fear.
Able laughed and holstered his gun. He grabbed J.D. and the
baby screamed.
“Don’t hurt him.” She muttered, her teeth chattering.
Woodenly, she closed her eyes and slowly began to unbutton her blouse, inching
out of it even slower.
“Look at them titties, Rafe. She’s got some titties on her
now.”
Hattie cringed, hating the see-through quality of Donna’s
fancy underwear. Even Jackson hadn’t seen her in them. But stealing herself,
she inched onto the bed, pretending to be struggling with the fastenings on her
skirt. There was no rifle, behind her closed eyes she could visualize it in the
rack above the fireplace. Why had she thought that meant it was ready to use as
a weapon? But maybe the pistol was still there, still under the pillow. Was it,
or was it in the gun belt hanging in the study?
When she had the skirt loose, Hattie rolled so the bed was
between them, then she looked up, pretending to smile as she wiggled out of the
blue garment.
“Who-wee, just like a pro,” Rafe called. “Don’t tell me
you’ve grown to like it, cause I’ve been looking forward to having to fight you
again, little hell-cat?”
Trembling Hattie draped the skirt onto the bedpost and sank
down on the pillows. She could feel the hard edge of the pistol under her hips.
Outside, Jackson waved Cliff to the front of the house, gun
drawn and cocked as he inched closer to the window. Inside, he could hear and
see everything.
Hattie stood again, almost blocking his view and he watched
her remove and hang the skirt before sitting down. He didn’t want to shoot her
or J.D. by mistake. Then he watched her raise the petticoat and slowly begin to
work a stocking off. For a moment, he was as mesmerized as the men inside.
“Damn,” Able shouted and dropped J.D. into the crib. “Damn
brat pee-ed on me.”
Jackson heard the scream as the baby collided with the
rails. God he was going to kill these animals.
But into the shocked atmosphere, there was the bark of
gunfire from the living room and an answering echo from his bedroom.
As soon as Able flung J.D. into the crib, Hattie aimed the
pistol and fired, hitting him in the face, then she swiveled before Rafe could
drop what he was holding to draw and fire his gun. Jackson yelled from outside
the window. “Grab, J.D.”
Hattie rolled across the bed toward the crying baby and
Jackson fired, shooting the gun from Rafe’s hand, then shooting the horrible
man through the chest and groin. Hattie lifted the baby from the crib, then
aimed her gun at Able and echoed Jackson’s shots, destroying the nightmares by
shooting him in the groin and chest too.
Gingerly, Jackson came through the window, praying she
wouldn’t fire by reflex in his direction. She dropped her gun in the crib and
sank back onto the bed to examine the bawling J.D.
From the other side of the door, Cliff called. Everything all
right in there boss?”
“Yeah, we got these two, what about on your side?”
“Yeah, they’re pretty well dead, almost as many holes as
those ponies. Are the baby and your Missus okay?”
“Give me a minute to find out,” Jackson called.
He turned to watch a half-dressed Hattie remove the last of
J.D.’s clothes. Frantically she was checking the baby, gently feeling of his
arms, legs, belly and back. Despite his crying, she carefully looked at every
inch. Solemnly she looked over her shoulder at Jackson and nodded.
“They’re both all right,” he was gratified by the relieved
sighs on the other side of the door.
He handed Hattie the discarded blouse, then helped her
button it and handed her the skirt. He sank to lift the sobbing baby into his
arms, cuddling him and kissing the red marks on his soft arm, the quickly
forming bump on his forehead. Hattie fastened her skirt, pulled on her
stocking, and then turned to take the baby.
Automatically she curved him against her body as Jackson
lifted them both to sit in the open window. Hattie gave the baby her fuller
breast while Jackson stood protectively over them.
“You were outside all along?”
“No, we just got here, but I heard most of it. I would never
have let them put their hands on you. I just had to get a clear shot and know
where you and the baby were.”
“Although,” he added, staring at her downturned face and the
baby who suckled with one hand touching her face. “Looking at these bodies, it
doesn’t look like you needed a rescuer.”
“I was terrified. I realized the rifle was over the
fireplace. I remembered hanging the holster around your desk chair. I had to
get on the bed to feel if the handgun was still there under the pillow.”
“That was some performance. You were unbelievably brave. I
don’t think there’s a braver or more daring woman in these 34 states.”
“I didn’t know if I could actually fire at them, but it was
just like shooting the coyotes.”
“I’m proud of you and your brave little momma, J.D.” he
leaned down to kiss the red spot on his forehead and arm again.
“I couldn’t believe that monster had our baby.” She curved
down to kiss the bright red spot on his forehead too and J.D. released his
nipple to reach up and stretch to a standing position. Jackson placed a
steadying hand under the soft bare bottom as he wobbled between them. Finally,
the baby managed to lean high enough to kiss her cheek with an open-mouthed
sloppy kiss.
“You’re right, he is giving a kiss.” Jackson laughed. “Those
little girl babies better watch out for our little Romeo, right J.D.”
They heard the buggy roll into the yard. Jackson made sure
Hattie was decent and opened the bedroom door, even as she managed to diaper
the wiggling J.D. and get a short shirt on him.
“A couple of you men drag this crow bait out of here. We’ll
load them onto the buckboard and carry them into the sheriff.”
Hank stepped closer to Jackson. “Boss, we’ve kind of got a
situation out here. Reason those hombres were able to get into the house
unnoticed.”
Jackson looked over at James and Rubye. Both sat, red-faced,
where the raiders had tied them into chairs. It was plain from their red faces
and rumpled clothes that they had been busy at other things then watching out
for outlaws.
“I see,” he said. “Guess one of you men better ride for the
preacher, soon as you let them loose and get this carrion hauled out of my
house.”
“Yeah, believe you’re right, boss.” Hank grinned as he
stepped over to untie the mortified couple.
Jackson walked out onto the porch, surprised to see Charlie
Dawson climbing down from his buggy.
Charles hesitated below the porch, watching in horror as one
after another, the desperadoes were hauled out.
Jackson stood there, just staring at his shocked reaction.
“What brings you here, Charles, come to see who won?”
Dawson cleared his throat, looked up in relief as Hattie
emerged from the house carrying a clinging J.D. “Thank, God, you and the baby
are all right.”
“No thanks to those hired thugs. You come to tell me what’s
really going on, Dad.” Jackson said the last word with real anger.
Dawson seemed to shrink a little in his suit. “Yes, why
don’t you and Harriet walk a little with me? I need to tell you this in
private.”
Hattie looked confused, a little surprised at being
included. “Give me a minute to get my shoes.”
She handed J.D. to his father. The baby cried after her for
a second, then curled up against his daddy. Dawson stared hungrily at the
child, sighing when he noticed the red knot on his face, then the redness on
his tiny arm. “They hurt the baby?” he whispered in horror.
“Used him to threaten Hattie, planned to rape her again,
Charlie, but you already know that. Why don’t you cut out the guff? I know you
were the one who sent them.”
“No, Jackson, you don’t know, because I didn’t. That’s what
we need to talk about.”
Hattie came down the porch steps, carefully walking around
the blood trail and stopping to lean up and slip a soft lazy shawl over J.D.
before taking him back from Jackson. The tall cowboy put a steadying arm around
her and a protective hand on the baby’s back.
As soon as they rounded the corner beside the garden with
the scratching chickens and buzzing bees, he began to talk.
“I’ve known for some time, Irene’s not been right, not since
after Donna had the baby. That business of being left alone with Donna and the
baby, but of not really knowing what to do for them, it hurt her, she blamed
herself. You have to understand, Irene has always been a sheltered, pampered
woman. Such harsh reality, the death of our daughter, it caused a sort of
break-down.
“Come on Charlie, you aren’t going to blame all this on
Irene.”
“No, not all of it. There’s blood on my hands too. The plan
wasn’t to hurt anyone, I swear. I just wanted to frighten the squatter’s into
wanting to sell and move on. The sheriff recommended some men, men he rode with
during the war.”
“You hired the men who robbed us, who beat my father, who…”
“Harriett, I’m so sorry. I never meant for anyone to be
hurt. When I learned what they did to you and Tom, I told Sheriff Tate they had
to go.”
“But he didn’t listen, right?” Jackson asked sarcastically.
“No, he told me I would keep my mouth shut or he’d tell
everyone my part in it. I didn’t have a choice.”
“You had a choice; you just made the wrong one.”
“What about the money,” Hattie interrupted. “Our money from
the cattle we sold to pay the taxes.”
“I have the money, well most of it. I used some of it to pay
them.”
“You used our money to pay them to savage and destroy us?”
Hattie stared in horror at this man, who stood in his proper banker clothes and
self-righteous pose.
Jackson swore softly. “You made me pay for that land, when
you’d already collected four times what they owed on the tax bill. Your problem
Charles is you’re a greedy bastard.”
“Don’t start about that ranch again. This morning you were
insisting you wanted the title back in Hattie’s name.”
“Jackson,” she grabbed at his arm.
He turned to stare down at her. “I never intended to take
your ranch. I didn’t think you’d ever believe me again unless I gave you the
land back.”
“But I did, after you left. I got to thinking about it;
you’ve never lied to me, not once, about anything. I realized you were telling
me the truth.”
He stared down into her eyes, gave her a crooked smile.
“Good, because I didn’t get the title changed. Taxes will be sky high if it’s
in your name, just high if it’s in mine. But it’s your land girl, to do with as
you want.”
“Good, I’ve got plans for it.”
“Are you going to tell me what they are?”
“Eventually,” she grinned at him.
Jackson shook his head and grinned back. They were past the
garden by the well. Hattie took the baby back as Jackson drew up a bucket and
passed the gourd dipper of ice cold water around.
Jackson held the dipper, staring hard at Dawson. The man
reached out to touch the handle but waited until it was surrendered. “Harriet,
I will write a check for all of the money for the cattle sale before I leave
today. I’m truly sorry,” Dawson said as he accepted the water.
“Go on about Irene,” Jackson ordered.
“You said we three, Donna, you and me, were the only ones to
know about the secret panel, but Irene knew too. She’s the one who showed it to
Donna, had her order it along with the rest of your bedroom furniture from that
place in Boston. Cost a pretty penny, getting it made and shipped out here. But
Irene could always spend money.”
“When you had the shoot-out, Hogue came to the Sheriff with
a bullet in the shoulder and Silas Sweat bleeding from a leg wound. Doc Jenkins
fixed up Rafe and told them Silas was a gonner. He bled-out on the table like
our Donna did. Sheriff Tate buried Silas’s body that night and we sent Rafe and
Able by stage the next day to Abilene.”
“We asked around town, no one had seen them.”
“Tate rode them out of town in his buckboard and they met
the stage after it was at Red Rim. I thought it was the end of everything.”
Jackson wondered how many men had been involved in the lie.
None of the ones he asked had seen anything, especially the sheriff. The
silence lasted until he asked. “Why did they come back?”
“It was Irene,” Dawson paced back and forth, twisting his
hands together. Jackson wondered if he was imagining Irene’s slender neck
between his hands.
With the pacing, they walked past the buckboard where the
bodies had been loaded.
Hattie seemed to stumble and Jackson caught a glimpse of her
chalk white face. He looped an arm under her legs and carried her and the boy
toward the house, shouting into the dark interior, “Rubye, come hold the baby.”
Rubye did, but as she walked past the bloody floors, she
didn’t look any too steady either. The house smelled of powder and blood, and
Jackson swore. Still cradling Hattie and the baby, he turned and walked back
out onto the porch. “Get a blanket and some smelling salts,” he yelled back
into the house.
In minutes he had handed Rubye the baby and had Hattie
wrapped in a blanket. He sat in the sun, cradling her in his arms as her teeth
began to chatter. He pulled her closer, chafing her arms and pressing his face
against hers. “It’s all right, you’re safe, it’s all right darling.”
When he looked at Rubye she was suddenly looking pale.
“Dawson take the boy. James Boyd, get another blanket and come take care of
your woman.”
In minutes both women were stretched out, cradled in
blankets.
Dawson stepped onto the porch with the crying baby. Cuddling
him close and talking to him softly, “What is it? What’s wrong with them?”
“It’s shock, damn females,” Boyd muttered.
Jackson stared at the older man holding and rocking the
staunch housekeeper who was as white as Hattie had been minutes ago. “Its shock
all right, but you and I have seen it in men on the battlefield before. You
can’t expect anyone to go through what they’ve just done without any reaction.”
“Hank, move that meat wagon into the barn and the shade. I
wired the rangers, and I don’t want to take these dead men into town until the
afternoon stage arrives.” Jackson called.
Hattie’s color began to return and she turned toward the
crying baby, taking him into the cocoon of her arms and the blanket. “I’m
sorry, I just felt all wobbly for a minute.’
Jackson held her close and kissed her forehead as he
motioned for Dawson to sit as well. “I believe we could all do with a shot of
whiskey right now.”
Charlie and James both pulled out bottles, the banker’s
flask was silver. Jackson held the flask to Hattie’s lips, patting her back as
her face flamed with color and she sputtered in reaction. Rubye managed a
little better, grimacing fiercely, as she sipped James bottle.
Jackson drank from the banker’s bottle, knowing the bonded
Bourbon would be easier to swallow then Boyd’s rock gut. Then he let James and
the banker pass their bottles out to the men.
“Might as well finish your story, Dawson, I’m not moving
until I’m sure Hattie’s okay.”
“Of course, of course,” he sputtered, “It can wait.” But
when the empty flask came back to him, he shook it, pocketed it, and resumed
his tale, droning on in a monotone.
“Irene took Donna’s loss really hard, really hard.”
“You said that. Told us she knew about the secret panel.
Tell us why Rafe and Able Sweat showed up.”
“She sent a wire, asked them to come back.”
“Why?”
“When Rubye White showed up at our place, all scandalized by
the goings on out here, Irene decided to replace Hattie Stoddard for once and
all. She kept going on about how unfit she was to be raising Donna’s son. When
that fool preacher stopped by and bragged about marrying you, I knew something
bad was going to happen.”
“That was the Sunday they came out and shot the animals?”
Jackson asked.
“I think Irene sent the rustlers out with orders to bring
back Donna’s jewelry and anything else of value that they could find. She
wanted them to scare Hattie into leaving. When Irene told me, I told her you
would never let her go, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“When you showed up with her at church, Irene snapped. When
you told me about the jewelry being stolen, I knew it was Irene. That was one
of the things she obsessed about, that horrible girl getting Donna’s pretty
things. It wasn’t enough that she had Donna’s son, now she had her husband, her
house, everything. But when she showed up in Donna’s clothes, she figured when
she found the jewelry she’d wear it too. Some of the pieces were her families,
Irene’s mothers and grandmothers. She just couldn’t bear to think of Harriet
wearing any of them.”
“Why didn’t she just ask for them back?” Jackson asked.
“I don’t know, she wasn’t thinking rationally. As soon as I
confronted her, she confessed it all. Showed me the money she’d made from the
cattle they’d stolen. She told me we could use it to send J.D. to Harvard. It
takes a lot of money to go to Harvard,” she said.
“I had Doc Jenkins come to stay with her, give her something
for her nerves. He told me she would need to be sent off somewhere, to a
sanitarium somewhere. I don’t think she can stand it. I don’t think she’ll go.
I don’t know that I can stand it.”
Rubye started crying, “I’m sorry, that means all this was my
fault.”
Hattie sat up, handed Jackie to his dad, and then moved from
Jackson’s arms to hug the older woman. “No, no, don’t blame yourself. You had
no way to know how it would end.”
“But I judged you, and you were innocent. The Bible says
‘judge not that ye be not judged.’ Then today, my lord, even Hank knew what
we’d been doing. I never even saw you kissing. I just saw your eyes light up
when you saw each other. The way you loved the baby and each other, I guess I
was jealous.”
James patted her, “It’s not your fault old girl, its mine.
Feeling like I do for you, never saying the truth to you. Just watching them
fall in love made it that much worse. Knowing I didn’t have any right to speak
because I can’t offer you a home, a decent life. I’m just an old cowhand, with
nothing of my own.”
Rubye laid a hand on his cheek and smiled at him. “I’m an
old maid without anything of my own. All I need or want is you.”
Hattie turned to smile at Jackson. “We would never have
known what our feelings were if you hadn’t forced us before the preacher.”
“That’s right. That’s why we’re doing the same for you two.
Here he comes now,” Jackson said.
“But,” James started to protest, as Hattie rose with Jackson
and the baby beside her. Charles Dawson stood as well and Hattie put an arm
around him. “It will work out, Mr. Dawson. No matter how terrible it might seem
at the moment, it always works out.”
He stared at her in shock, “That’s what Donna always said
when I would worry.”
“She’s always here, protecting J.D. Don’t you feel her too?”
Before he could answer, the preacher swung down from the
buggy. “I’m surprised to be back at this house so soon. I’m really shocked by
what this young man had to tell us.” He scowled at Rubye White and James Boyd,
both of whom had the grace to blush and look at their feet.
The preacher winked at Jackson and continued in his sternest
voice. “Shall we move inside to conduct the ceremony?”
“Not today Reverend. We thought a garden wedding might give
us a little more room. But we have some things we need to take care of in Star.
I’m sorry we ran you out for nothing, but if you can come back tomorrow around
noon, with your missus, we’ll have some neighbors in and a meal ready to
celebrate.”
The preacher stared, clearly surprised. “Will you promise
James Boyd to do the right thing by Miss White tomorrow?”
The embarrassed cowboy looked up. “I want nothing more than
to do the right thing and make her my wife.”
Rubye stared at him and when he reached for her hand she
squeezed his hand back. To everyone’s surprise she blushed and her eyes filled
with tears. James pulled her into his embrace, “You going to do right by me
tomorrow, sweetheart?”
Rubye nodded, then leaned down a couple of inches and tucked
her face into his shoulder, overwhelmed with embarrassment.