Ralph Compton Face of a Snake

by Bernard Schaffer

  “That’s what it looks like,” Reuben Jr. said. “We even found one of his workers shot dead in the road on the way here. Young fella too and somebody left him lying in a ditch for the buzzards to feed on.”

  “And you think it was me?” Jesse asked.

  “Well, maybe not you exactly,” Reuben Jr. said. “But I know you’ve been having trouble with Mr. Granger for a while and that your husband died.”

  “My husband’s death had nothing to do with Mr. Granger. It was just an unfortunate accident. You said so yourself,” Jesse said.

  “That’s true,” Reuben Jr. said. “But sometimes folk can’t handle the truth of what they’re told and they decide to take matters into their own hands.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Sheriff, but it’s just me and what’s left of my family and help here. Would you like to see them so you can decide if any of us killed everyone at Mr. Granger’s ranch and threw his giant off the roof?”

  Reuben Jr. fixed his hat back on his head and said, “I think I would, Mrs. Sinclair.”

  Jesse opened her front door and leaned her head inside. “Everyone, could you come out here and meet the sheriff for me, please?”

  Henry Odell came out the door first, dressed in a suit, a long red tie, and a hat. His eyes were bruised and he had a crack down the center of his nose that looked freshly sutured.

  “What happened to you, Odell?” Sheriff Reuben called out.

  “Hold up your hands, Daddy,” Jesse said. “This sheriff is not to be trifled with.”

  “Of course, dear,” Odell said. He held up his hands and showed them the stump of his right wrist. “My grandson let me drive the wagon a few days ago,” Odell said. “I thought I could do it, but it turns out, doing it one-handed isn’t as easy as it looks. I got the worst of it, but he’s a little beat up himself.”

  Connor Sinclair came out next. He was dressed in a fine white shirt and trousers, and his hair was slicked back. His face was only nicked and bruised. His grandfather had spoken truly when he said he’d gotten the worst of it.

  “Where were you last night, boy?” Sheriff Reuben asked.

  “I was here, sir,” Connor said, “doing my Bible studies.”

  “I’ll bet,” Reuben Jr. said. “Who else you got in there?”

  Jesse looked over her shoulder at the door. “Why, just Miss Rena and the new girl, Miss Mirta, who just started working for me.”

  “Bring them out,” the sheriff said.

  “Why do you need them, Sheriff?”

  “Because I said so, that’s why,” Reuben Jr. said.

  Jesse pulled the front door open. “Miss Rena, Miss Mirta, can you all come out here and meet the sheriff, please?”

  Miss Rena came out first. She was in her church clothes with a bright yellow bonnet around her head. Behind her came Mirta Escalante. Mirta wore one of Jesse’s dresses and her long black hair was pulled back in two ponytails. She pulled at the collar of the dress and scratched and shifted from side to side as she stood next to Miss Rena, but she did her best to smile like the others were doing.

  “Why are you all so dressed up?” Sheriff Reuben asked.

  Jesse looked down at her dress and then over at the others. “I’m not sure what you mean, Sheriff. Is something wrong with our clothing?”

  Reuben Jr. squinted at her. “And that’s everyone in your house.”

  “Yes,” Jesse said.

  “You swear on it.”

  “Of course. Do you want to come look?”

  “If I said I wanted to come look right now, what would you say?”

  Jesse stepped aside and said, “Come right in, Sheriff. I’ll have Miss Rena make coffee while you look.”

  Reuben Jr. scratched the side of his face and looked them all over. “And none of you have any idea what transpired at Mr. Nelson Granger’s ranch last night? None of you have any knowledge about any killings?”

  “Good Lord, no,” Jesse said.

  “And what if I say you’re a damned liar, Mrs. Sinclair?” Reuben Jr. asked.

  “Now, hold on just a second, Sheriff,” Henry Odell said.

  Miss Rena raised her hand high in the air and called out, “Wait! I confess! It was me, Sheriff.”

  Reuben Jr.’s eyes widened. “It was you?”

  “Yes, sir. I went up there all by myself with a big ol’ shotgun, and I shot every single one of them badmen. I shot them so close, their blood splashed all over my face. Then Mr. Odell here, he beat the rest to death with his stump.”

  Mirta Escalante looked down and tried to stifle a laugh.

  “So you all think this is real funny, huh?” Reuben Jr. asked. “A great man has been killed and all you folks can do is stand there in your fancy clothes and make jokes. Is that it? I should run all of you in and put you to the hot irons and we’d see who’s laughing and who knows what then. How’s that? Still funny to you?”

  Jesse’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I appreciate you threatening us like that, Sheriff. Now, I’ve assisted you in your inquiry and invited you to search my home, but I will not stand here and be threatened by you or anyone else. I’ll be sure to have my attorney contact you and your superiors to continue the discussion.”

  “I’m just doing my job, Mrs. Sinclair.”

  “Well, unless you have cause to be here, I’d suggest you do it somewhere else,” Jesse said.

  “I’ll be back,” Sheriff Reuben Jr. said. “You’d best believe that. I’ll get to the bottom of this!”

  They watched the sheriff get back on his horse and turn it around and ride off at a full gallop. He turned east at the gate to go back toward Granger’s ranch and look at all the dead and continue his hunt for the killers. No one spoke or moved until the sheriff disappeared from sight.

  “You handled that well, dear,” Odell said.

  Jesse let out a long, slow breath. “All right,” she said. “Let’s get finished before that fool comes back.”

  * * *

  * * *

  They climbed into the wagon that Mirta had brought back her father’s and Ashford Sinclair’s bodies in. Connor Sinclair and Henry Odell sat up front, and the women sat in the back. Connor stopped the horse in front of the barn, where Lorenzo Escalante’s body was hidden. The first thing they’d done when Mirta returned was wrap it in sackcloth and cover it with a pile of hay.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to bury him here?” Jesse asked Mirta. “We’ll find him a beautiful place and your family is welcome to visit him whenever they want.”

  “No,” Mirta said. “I must take him home. My mother will want to see him. Otherwise she will not believe me.”

  Miss Rena put her hand in Mirta’s and squeezed. Connor told the horse to start moving.

  Earlier that morning, Miss Rena had washed Sinclair’s body and then rinsed off the clothes he’d died in to clean them of all the blood and gore from his final battle. Then she’d wrapped him in sackcloth as well. Connor and Odell had taken Sinclair’s body out to the hill where Edna and William were buried. They dug a hole next to Edna’s resting place. Connor did most of the work, but Odell helped as best as he could.

  They’d placed Sinclair’s wrapped form inside the grave and covered it most of the way back up with dirt. Connor had stuck the shovel inside the pile of loose dirt that remained, and they rode back to the house to clean the wagon and bathe and prepare for the funeral.

  Now that the sheriff had left, they all rode together back to the hill and walked up the path that led to the two burial markers and the pile of fresh soil. Miss Rena had brought her Bible, and she read to them from the Book of Samuel. When she was finished, Connor covered his grandfather’s grave with all of the remaining dirt except for one last shovelful.

  “Does anyone else want to say anything?” Jesse asked.

  Odell clasped his left hand around t
he stump of his wrist and lowered his head. “I guess I knew Ashford longer than just about anyone else left alive on the planet. He was a mean old snake and always full of surprises. I’ll miss him.”

  Jesse put her arm around Connor’s shoulder and said, “How about you? You want to say something?”

  “Well, I wasn’t going to say it until after we ate, but I guess now is as good a time as any.” Connor cleared his throat and said, “I’m going with Miss Mirta to return her father. Grandpa Ash told me he swore to see her home and that’s what I intend to do.”

  “I don’t need anyone to come with me,” Mirta said.

  “Maybe not,” Connor said. “I’m coming anyway.”

  “We’ll speak of it later on,” Jesse said.

  “I’m going either way,” Connor said with a shrug.

  “I said, we’ll speak of it later on. Anyone else?” Jesse asked.

  Miss Rena stepped forward. “It’s good he’s buried next to his wife and his son. Mr. Ash wasn’t a perfect man from what I’ve heard, but at the end, he tried his best to do right. Maybe Mr. William and Mrs. Edna can speak on his behalf. See if the good Lord can’t find His way to look past a few things and take into account what he did in the end to save his family.”

  “I hope so,” Jesse said. Taking the shovel from Connor, she scooped up the last of the dirt and laid it on top of the grave. “Rest in peace, Pa.”

  * * *

  * * *

  They sat down to eat dinner as the sun set over the valley. Miss Rena had finished putting everyone’s food out and walked around the table filling up their wineglasses. Jesse thanked her and said, “Please, sit down so we can all eat before it gets cold.”

  Miss Rena sat, and the rest of them picked up their forks to eat, except Connor. He stared at his mother from across the table and said, “I meant what I said. I’m going with Mirta.”

  “Eat your food,” Jesse said.

  Connor picked up his fork like he was told, then bunched up his face and said, “I’m supposed to be the man of this house, but here I am trying to be one and all you can do is say we’ll talk about it later and eat my food. What kind of man takes any kind of talk like that?”

  “A wise one,” Odell said. He nodded at Connor’s plate and said, “Eat.”

  “Well, I’m going. That’s all there is to it,” Connor said.

  “You trying to be the man of this house didn’t work out so well the last time you tried it,” Jesse said. “Maybe next time, it won’t be somebody else’s ear that shows up in an envelope. You know what I went through while you were being held prisoner there? You know how that killed me?”

  “Well, I was fine, wasn’t I?” Connor asked.

  “Only because two men were willing to give their lives to save you,” Mirta said.

  Connor moved the food around on his plate instead of speaking. “I never asked anyone to save me. I’m sorry they’re gone.”

  “I don’t need an escort,” Mirta said. “I appreciate you lending me your wagon and you have my word I will bring it back after my father is buried.”

  “Of course, dear,” Jesse said. “I trust you.”

  Mirta took a sip of wine and said, “I appreciate you wanting to come, Connor, but I can move faster alone.”

  “You’re not going alone,” Odell said, picking up his wineglass to take a sip.

  “You’re in no condition,” Jesse said sharply.

  “We ran into all kinds of nasty business on the way here,” Odell said. “Things I will not begin to describe at this dinner table. Just because you avoided them catching up to us doesn’t mean they won’t be ready for you on the way back. Lorenzo knew that. That’s why he made Ashford give his word to see her back. Since he’s not here, I’ll go in his stead.”

  Mirta smiled gently. “I mean no offense, Mr. Odell, but what good is a one-handed man going to be?”

  “At the very least, I’m an extra set of eyes. Plus, there’s strength in numbers and people will be less inclined to approach a woman with an escort than a young pretty one like yourself riding in a wagon with a dead body in the back all by her lonesome.”

  “If they approach me, it will be the worst mistake they ever make,” Mirta said.

  “I know that. We all know that. But they won’t know that and that’s trouble you don’t need if you can avoid it. Take it from me, my dear, and if your father was here, he’d tell you the same. You can be the baddest archer, tracker, and gunfighter in creation, and things can still go sideways on you in a hurry. They had a word for outlaws and lawmen who insisted on riding alone. You know what that was?” Odell asked.

  “No,” Mirta said.

  “Dead.”

  “On reflection, I’d feel much better if you took Dad along,” Jesse said to Mirta. “I know you can look after yourself, but he’s got a point about people being less inclined to harass you if you have him with you. They won’t be able to see he’s old, cantankerous, and one-handed, not from a distance.”

  “If I’m honest, I think him and my mother will get along very well,” Mirta said, and they all laughed.

  “You know,” Connor said, “if there is trouble waiting for you on the road, it will be even less inclined if there are three instead of just two.”

  Odell looked at his daughter. “Well, he’s not wrong.”

  * * *

  * * *

  From the front porch, Jesse gazed at Mirta and Connor sitting in the wagon with Odell on his horse beside them. She knew it was a mistake, but she stayed quiet anyway. Lorenzo Escalante’s body was sealed in a wooden crate packed with straw and salt and coal to conceal the corpse and hopefully mask the smell of death.

  Jesse wasn’t sure what she was more afraid of. That damned sheriff stopping them on the road and discovering the body or some wild animal catching the scent of the decomposing body and attacking it. In her mind, she knew it was right that Connor and her father were going. It was her heart that told her otherwise.

  Odell tipped his hat toward her and Miss Rena. “Me and Connor will be back with the wagon in a few days.”

  “You think on Mrs. Jesse’s offer to work here. It’s a good home and we’ll need you to rebuild the ranch,” Miss Rena called out.

  “I will,” Mirta said.

  “And you all be safe now,” Miss Rena said.

  Connor nodded his head toward his mother and turned to snap the reins to get the wagon moving.

  “Wait,” Jesse said.

  Odell held up his horse and turned back toward her. “What’s wrong?”

  Jesse went into the house and came back out holding the Spencer rifle. She carried it down the steps toward the wagon and laid it down in the back next to the crate. “I know I said you couldn’t take it, but just in case, you’ll have it. Do not do anything stupid with that gun,” Jesse said.

  “I won’t,” Connor said.

  “A pistol might come in handy too,” Odell said.

  “We don’t have any.”

  “We have Ashford’s snake guns.”

  “Absolutely not,” Jesse said. “I’m destroying those damned things the first chance I get.”

  “Fair enough,” Odell said. “With Mirta’s bow, my watchful eye, and Connor’s steady hand at the reins, we should have no trouble at all.”

  Jesse put her hand on the side of the wagon and said, “Come back safely, all of you.”

  She watched as they rode off and stood there watching for a long time after that.

  * * *

  * * *

  That night, after Miss Rena went to bed, Jesse Sinclair went outside to the supply shed. She gathered a pile of clean rags, a few thick cloths, a bucket of soapy water, different-sized stiff bristle brushes, metal polish, and a can of oil.

  She carried all of it over to the barn, where everything Mirta had brought back with her from Granger
’s ranch was hidden. In addition to both bodies, Mirta had gathered up anything she could find that belonged to both men. Anything that belonged to Lorenzo Escalante, Mirta packed in the crate with him. Anything that had belonged to Ash Sinclair, they’d hidden in the barn in a wooden trunk.

  Jesse opened the trunk and removed Sinclair’s gun belt. She removed the snake guns from their holsters and set them aside and she stretched the gun belt out on the barn’s floor. She brushed it with a stiff bristle brush to clean off all the debris, then scrubbed it clean of any blood and hung it up to dry.

  She took Sinclair’s field glasses out of the trunk next and wiped them down with a cloth. There were dirt and pieces of grass packed into the rim of the lenses that she scraped out with her fingernails. She spit on each lens and wiped them down until there were no smudges. Then she used the metal polish to polish the brass casing until it shined.

  Finally, she picked up the snake guns and opened both their cylinders and ejected the empty cartridge casings onto the barn’s floor. She brushed the blackened gunpowder out of each of the cylinder’s chambers. Then she ran a rag through both pistol barrels. They came out black on the other end. She ran another rag through, and it came out less black. She kept running rags through each barrel until they were coming out only lightly stained gray and there was nothing she could do to make them any cleaner.

  She brushed the hammer and worked the trigger several times to listen for any problems with the weapon’s timing. There were none.

  When the guns were clean, she oiled them. When they were oiled, she walked over to the gun belt and oiled that too.

  She dumped out the soapy water and left all of the cleaning items in the barn to be collected later. She picked up the gun belt and pistols and field glasses and carried them back into the house.

  It was dark and she could hear the sound of Miss Rena snoring in her bedroom.

  Jesse went down into the basement and opened the door beneath the staircase. She hung the gun belt from its hook on the wall and set the field glasses down on top of the cloth. She opened the velvet-lined box. She laid the guns that she said she’d destroy inside the box and closed it. She closed the door that hid the room and she locked it. She went upstairs and closed the basement door and stood there. The house was dark. Miss Rena was still snoring.