Caught Between Love And Duty

by Clarice Mayfield

  “Thanks. I won’t be long,” James said. He put on his Stetson and stepped out into the blazing white sunshine on the street. The air felt like a warm blanket instantly wrapping itself around him. The ever-present Sonoran breeze provided some relief, however, as it cooled off his skin a bit. James breathed in deep and thought there was a faint taste of Gulf salt in the air.

  He turned and walked toward the post office, planning to see if there was any mail for the ranch. Passersby exchanged greetings and small talk with him along the way. Old men rested in the shade. Horses and wagons moved slowly through the wide streets.

  Halfway to Tony’s office a shrill female voice burst from the doorway of the Sonora Mercantile Emporium, catching James in mid-stride and nearly throwing him off balance in its volume:

  “Sheriff McCloud!” a woman intoned from the shade. “How are you on this infernally hot day?”

  “Hello, Ida. How are you?” James said as she stepped out into the bright sunshine. Ida Anderson was a tall, thin, angular looking rancher’s daughter. A few gold-blond ringlets curled out from under her bonnet. She was not conventionally beautiful. But even at a spinsterish thirty-two years old she had an attractive elfin-like quality with a turned up nose and willowy frame. Her voice, however, was her least flattering quality.

  “Now, now, I asked you first, Sheriff!” she tittered shrilly. “Are you nervous yet? I know it’s only a few weeks now until the big day. You must be an utter train wreck.”

  “Not really, Ida. Lookin’ forward to it actually.”

  “Oh, that is so much the sheriff we know and love. A man of few words. Stoic and brave. It’s a shame none of our Sutton County women proved good enough for your attentions, James. Why in the world you resolved to place that newspaper advertisement to find a wife I shall never know.”

  With the day’s heat and the humidity already pressing heavily on him, James was in no mood to be slandered. “That’s right, Ida, and you probably never will know.”

  “Oh come now, Sheriff, enlighten me. All of the girls are wondering why.”

  “You’re sure you want to know? ‘Cause you may not like the answer.”

  “Yes. I’m waiting to hear it,” she said, planting her hands on her hips in a pose that was as defiant as her tone.

  By now a couple of mercantile customers had started to watch the encounter with bemused interest. Some of the passerby had also stopped to enjoy the show. Ida Anderson was known about Sonora as a woman who relished confrontation. Indeed she had a dramatic flair for it; a fact that some speculated may have contributed to her advanced spinsterhood. Anything that didn’t go her way seemed to be fair game for an argument and it seemed like she was spoiling for one on this hot July day.

  “Okay, Ida, I ain’t gonna beat around the bush with you. It’s way too hot out today.” A murmur of chuckles came from the bystanders. “I sure as shootin’ don’t think the women around here ain’t good enough for me. There’s many fine women in Sutton County. Shucks, me and your old friend Margaret got married, didn’t we?”

  “Yes. God rest her soul,” Anderson said bitterly.

  James ignored her bitter tone and continued calmly. “The reason I placed an ad is simple. When it comes to women, I like to do the askin’. That’s it, that’s all.”

  “You found us all too pushy, is that it, Sheriff?”

  “I wouldn’t put it that way but if that’s how you want to say it, then yes. I’m just an old-fashioned cowboy when it comes to courtin’. I’m sorry if that puts a bee in your bonnet, Ida.”

  She looked annoyed. “I’ve got no bees in my bonnet, Sherrif!” Another chuckle of mirth came from the bystanders. James couldn’t help but smile too.

  “Oh, so you think that’s funny do you?” she said fiercely. The chuckles stopped. Many knew that when Ms. Anderson’s ire was aroused a full onslaught was usually soon to follow. “I suppose you include me among that number of pushy women then?”

  “Now hold your horses, Ida,” James said, “it’s too hot for a brawl out here today. I ain’t calling you nothin’! You asked me the reason for something and I gave you an honest answer.” James felt truly sorry for her being a spinster at age thirty-two. Many people of that time still looked down upon her situation as some kind of a character flaw. But he also realized that telling her the straight-up truth would help this woman and the other ladies of the county understand his actions. David had told him about the county gossip and it was exactly what had come out of Anderson’s mouth. Here was an opportunity for him to set the record straight.

  “I ain’t gonna lie to you, Ida. You did come on too strong for me. But so what? So did some other women. It ain’t nothin’ personal against you or anyone else. It’s just the way this cowhand likes to go a-courtin’.” James tipped his hat to her. “And with that, I bid you a good day, Ms. Anderson.” He turned away, relieved that their encounter was over.

  She stood in the doorway of the Mercantile for a moment watching him go, her hands still planted on her hips. “Well!” she exclaimed loudly, then turned quickly and vanished into the store.

  * * *

  When the wedding invitation reached the Warton home in Boston it was William who answered the door and received the envelope from the courier. He read the message quickly and ran to find his mother. Emilia was in the parlor and he told her the news.

  “Your father wants us all to go to Texas?” she asked incredulously. “That’s fourteen-hundred miles away, William! It’s far too long a journey for me to be making at my age.”

  “Oh come on, Mother. Please? You’re not an old lady yet. If Father can do it so can you. Most of the journey is by train. Then there’s two days on a stagecoach and we’ll be there.”

  “Goodness gracious, son. Have you ever ridden in a stagecoach? It is absolutely dreadful. It only stops to change horses and drivers; they keep it going day and night over the worst roads in the country – if you can call them roads. No, I can’t do it. It would be the death of me!”

  “Father says to bring lots of pillows and you’ll be fine, Mother. Also something about earplugs.”

  “Earplugs? Whatever for?” Emilia asked.

  “I don’t know, he doesn’t say. Maybe it’s so you can sleep with the noise of the team driving through the night. Six horses make a lot of noise when they’re all in harness.”

  “That’s preposterous. Let me see the telegram, please.” William handed her the message and Emilia read it slowly.

  My dearest Emmy, Elias, and William:

  Good news. Georgia and James’s wedding date is set for September 13.

  This will allow all of you ample time to travel to Sonora and join in the

  celebration. Boys, bring a half-dozen of our best pillows to

  comfort your mother on the journey. Also earplugs for everyone.

  You will understand later. Emmy, your daughter sends her love to you

  and the boys. We both look forward to seeing all of you soon.

  Much love, Charles.

  Emilia looked puzzled. “Your father signs it with ‘much love’. That does not sound like Charles at all. I wonder what has gotten into him.”

  “He’s probably just happy that Georgia has found a good man to marry at last,” William said. “She always wanted to marry a cowboy you know, Mother.”

  “Yes, indeed she did,” Emilia replied disdainfully. “The dreams of a moonstruck schoolgirl, William.” She sighed in resignation. “I don’t know the effect this journey will have upon my health but if your father wants us there I suppose there is nothing for it. We must go.”

  William was thrilled that she had changed her mind. “Thank you, Mother! You’ll be fine on the journey. I promise. I’ll take good care of you. But must Elias come too? He will embarrass everyone with his drinking.”

  “Elias most of all, my dear. Anything that will get him out of the pubs and taverns has my blessing. And this is your sister’s wedding. It is important. I just hope the poor child doesn’t drain the sa
loon car on the train down to the dregs.”

  “Yes, Mother,” William said with disappointment.

  “Who knows, son? Maybe Texas will do Elias good. The fresh air, wide open spaces. I know you two aren’t getting along lately, William, but I want both of you to be on your best behavior for the duration. Understood, young man?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

  “Where is Elias today, anyway?” Emilia asked.

  “Where else, Mother? The pub. Then the theatre. Then the pub again.”

  “Of course,” she said sadly. “I needn’t have asked.”

  William looked at his mother with sympathy – God knew he could muster little sympathy for his brother these days. He sat down on the couch beside her, put his arm around her and pecked her on the cheek. “It’s okay, Mother. Everything’s going to be all right. You’ll see.”

  Emilia took out a handkerchief and daubed a tear from the corner of her eye. “I hope so. How did we go so wrong with poor Elias? Why has he wound up like this?”

  “I don’t know, Mother. You and father have tried your best, sent him to the best schools, helped him get a start. You gave him a chance to make something of himself. Would you like me to wait up for him tonight and tell him the news of our trip?”

  “Are you sure you want to do that? Elias can be so angry and cruel when he’s drinking. Maybe we should wait until morning to tell him.”

  “Don’t fret, Mother. I know how to handle him when he’s drunk. Then I’ll put him to bed so he can sleep it off. We’ll need to start making preparations for Texas right away so we can get there in time for the wedding.”

  Emilia was relieved to not have the responsibility of breaking the news to her wayward son. She found it more and more difficult to deal with him. “Thank you so much, William. I don’t know what we would do without you, my son.” She put her head on his shoulder and cried softly into her handkerchief.

  * * *

  At two in the morning William heard Elias’ carriage pull up in front of the house. His brother made a stumbling entrance into the Warton foyer and poked his head into the parlor to see who was there.

  “Ho-ho! Look who’s burning the midnight oil tonight,” Elias slurred cheerfully. “Careful, little brother, you don’t want to start having too much fun and ruin the promising future that mum and dad have got laid out for you.”

  “Words of wisdom from the Prodigal Son,” William scoffed. “Should I grab a pen and paper and write them down to guide my path, Elias? Then maybe with enough practice I can end up just as big a loser as you are one day.”

  “Oooh, ouchy. Not bad, little Willy. Better than your usual lame repartee! You’re really on top of your game tonight, son. Something must have happened to inspire you. Pray tell, what is it?” Elias sat down heavily on the couch beside him.

  “It’s time to put a cork in your bottle, prodigal brother. We’re going to Texas for Georgia’s wedding.”

  Elias looked like someone had hit him with a bottle. “You don’t say, little Willy.”

  “Yup,” William said firmly. “We got a telegram from father today and we’re leaving as soon as we can pack our bags.”

  “Well, congratulations and have a good trip,” Elias grinned crookedly, “I’m going to miss you, brother.”

  “Oh, no. You don’t understand. You’re invited too; though I don’t know why sis or mother and father would even want you there. So it’s my job to sober you up long enough to help me get mother to Texas, and get you through the wedding without screwing things up.”

  “No, no. You don’t understand, little Willy,” Elias said, getting to his feet unsteadily. “I’m not going anywhere! I don’t have the slightest interest in going to Texas to see Georgie get married. Or haven’t you noticed that I don’t really care for the girl?”

  “I know you don’t care about anyone but yourself, Elias,” William said, “That’s your business. But both Mother and Father – and Georgia – want you to go. And I want them to be happy. So for their sake I’m going to help you get on that train.”

  “Really?” Elias sneered, swaying on his feet. “And how do you propose to do that, little Willy? Come on, put up your dukes, son.” He raised his fists into a boxing stance and started jabbing the air in William’s direction. “I’ll teach you a lesson, golden boy. Mummy and Daddy’s little favorite.”

  When Elias threw the next jab, William grabbed his fist, pulled him forward, and spun him quickly around. He caught the drunken man as he stumbled and fell, then put his brother’s arm behind his back and twisted it upward until he started to groan in pain.

  “Hey, no fair! I’m drunk and you’re not,” Elias laughed. “If I was sober I’d... I’d...”

  “You’d know what a fool you are,” William said. “But since you can’t sober up yourself, I’m gonna help you do it. Do you understand? Mother is going to Texas and we’re going to help her get there. Tell me you’re going with us or so help me I’ll break your arm right now.”

  “Okay, okay! Whatever. I’ll go to stupid Texas. What do I care? Just quit twisting my arm, you lunatic.”

  William let go and Elias fell onto the couch. Then he slowly sat up, rubbing his shoulder in pain.

  “Okay then. It’s a deal, prodigal brother,” said William. “We start packing first thing in the morning. Don’t you dare disappoint mother and father or I swear I’ll break that arm of yours.”

  Elias didn’t answer. He just sat on the couch staring at his brother like he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

  19

  The three of them planned to spend the next day packing and making arrangements for the trip to Texas. Elias arose late and looked terrible. William and his mother had let him sleep in, hoping that the effects of the alcohol would be gone. But Elias still seemed half-drunk as he stumbled into the kitchen looking for a cup of coffee at 11:00 a.m.

  “Ohhh, my head hurts,” he mumbled as he sat down at the breakfast table across from William.

  “I’m not surprised, brother. You were drunk as a skunk last night – even by your standards. Do you remember what we talked about?”

  Elias groaned. “Yes. I wasn’t that sauced, you know. Texas? Really? I wish I was drunk.”

  William was surprised that his sibling remembered. “Wow. The news must have shocked you so much it cut right through the fog. Yes, Texas – Sonora to be exact. A little cow town in the west hill country. Are you up for that, brother?”

  “Yippee-kai-yay,” Elias said quietly. “Can you stop talking so loud? It hurts my head.”

  “There’s probably not much that wouldn’t hurt your head this morning. Anyway it’s packing day today, prodigal brother. We’re leaving bright and early tomorrow: 7:00 a.m. By that time your head should be pounding a bit less, I hope. Your bags are at the bottom of the stairs, all ready to be packed.”

  Elias looked over at his luggage which had been neatly stacked below the stairwell by the servants. “Lovely. How’s Mother?”

  “Afraid to talk to you, as usual,” said William.

  Elias stared glumly into his coffee. “Yeah. What about a little hair of the dog to calm my nerves a bit?”

  “Mother told the servants to lock all the booze away in a secure location. If you even try to find it – like I said last night – I’ll break your arm.”

  “You’re serious? Shoot. Have some mercy, little Willy! It’s not easy going cold turkey you know.”

  “How would you know, you’ve never tried it? If you get the shakes too bad we’ll give you a nip. But don’t you try faking it or I’ll...”

  “Yeah, I know. Break my arm. Thanks so much.” Elias exhaled loudly in frustration. “Pass me those eggs, will you? I’ll need some energy if we’re gonna be packing all day.”

  “Now you’re talking,” William said, passing over a tray of food.

  As the hungover man dug into his eggs and bacon, their mother entered the room. She looked nervously at her older son and asked, “How are you this morning, El
ias?”

  “I’m doing great, Mother,” he replied stiffly. “And you?”

  “Elias was just telling me how he wanted to have some food to give him energy to prepare for our trip,” William interjected.

  Emilia looked pleasantly surprised. “Well, that’s wonderful to hear! I’m looking forward to our journey together, my dears.”

  “No need to lie about it, Mother,” Elias said. “I know you’re not looking forward to travelling – you never have. And as far as me being your ‘dear’ boy, I know that’s stretching it a bit these days too.”