Buzzard's Bluff

by William W. Johnstone; J. A. Johnstone

  When they reached the camping spot, there were no other wagons there, so they picked the best spot, close to the creek bank where there was a good patch of grass. Tuck unhitched his mules and took them, along with Ben’s horse, down to drink while Ben volunteered to get some wood for a fire. The one drawback about the place they camped was that, because of its popularity, there was no firewood close by the creek. It had all been cleaned out, so Ben had to walk up the creek a good distance to find wood to burn. He found a good source a couple of dozen yards farther on when he saw a tree that lightning had knocked down. It was only halfway burned, so there were plenty of limbs and branches unburned.

  Hearing another wagon on the road some thirty yards away, he looked over to get a brief glimpse of it through the trees. He couldn’t see enough of it to tell much about it, other than the fact it was a covered farm wagon. Probably a family, he figured, I’ll tell them about this firewood. He continued to load up wood for his fire.

  Riding up the creek, downstream from the campsite, two riders guided their horses up just short of the clearing. Toby Jenkins reined his horse to a stop and waited for his partner, Dan Ward to come up beside him. “There’s two of ’em,” Toby said, “that one we’ve been followin’ and another’n already here.”

  “Wonder what he’s haulin’ on that wagon?” Dan asked. “He’s got it all tied down under that canvas like he don’t wanna get it wet.”

  “I don’t know,” his partner answered. “But he’s got a good-lookin’ horse down at the creek with them mules.”

  “I’d like to know what he’s haulin’,” Dan said. “Might be somethin’ real valuable. Maybe worth a lot more than what that couple’s got in that wagon we’ve been followin’.”

  “Hard to say, ain’t it?” Toby responded. “That family’s movin’ to someplace with everything they own, I expect, and maybe a little money to buy some land, or somethin’, too.”

  “Hell, let’s just go ask that little feller what he’s haulin’, and if it ain’t nothin’ we want, we’ll go pay the family a little visit.” That seemed like the reasonable thing to do to Toby, so he agreed, and they rode out of the trees toward Tuck, who was coming up from the creek, leading the mules.

  “How’s it goin’?” Toby called out a greeting as he and Dan walked their horses up on either side of Tuck.

  “Ain’t never been better,” Tuck answered.

  Toby took a good look at the stubby little man with the red hair and bushy red beard. He looked over at Dan and winked. “Me and my friend was curious. Whatcha haulin’ under that canvas?”

  “Vinegar,” Tuck sang out confidently.

  “Vinegar?” Toby echoed. “Vinegar, like regular vinegar?”

  “That’s right,” Tuck replied, enthusiastically, “a whole wagonload of vinegar, all packed in bottles.”

  “Where you takin’ it?” Dan asked.

  “To the vinegar mill,” a smiling Tuck answered, looking back and forth at each of them, hoping to stall long enough for Ben to return. “Wanna see it?”

  “Vinegar mill?” Toby looked toward Dan, and both men shook their heads. “No, we don’t wanna see it,” Toby said. “Come on Dan, we’re wastin’ time.” He wheeled his horse and Dan followed.

  Tuck watched them ride across the clearing toward a wagon that had just pulled into the other side of the clearing. “Those fellers are up to no good,” he said to his mules. “Where the hell is Ben with that firewood?”

  Across the clearing, the two riders pulled up by the wagon with a two-horse team just as Robert Grier started to unhitch them. At once wary of the two riders, Robert looked anxiously at the shotgun now out of his reach by the wagon seat. “Evenin’,” Toby said. “Where you folks headed?”

  “Buzzard’s Bluff,” Robert answered.

  “Buzzard’s Bluff,” Toby repeated. “You got a pretty good piece to go yet. That your missus in the back of the wagon? Tell her to come on out, we’d like to meet her.”

  “I’m sure she’d wanna meet you, too, but she’s been sickly of late, so she’d best stay in the wagon where she can rest,” Robert said.

  With a look of bored impatience, Dan drew his pistol. “Look here, mister, we’ve been doin’ this for a long time. You can make it easy on yourself, or you can take it the hard way. Don’t make no difference to us, but I can guarantee ya, you ain’t gonna like the hard way. Tell your wife to get her ass outta the back of that wagon where we can see her. Her hands better be empty unless she wants to see how you look with a bullet hole in your head. Now the sooner we get this done, the sooner we’ll be gone, so call her out.”

  With no choice in the matter, Robert called, “You hear him, Sue Ann? I reckon you’d best do what he said and maybe nobody will get hurt.”

  “Now, you’re actin’ smart,” Toby said. He climbed down off his horse, his pistol pointed at Robert. “That money you got hid in there, where’d you hide it? It’ll be a whole lot easier on you and Sue Ann if you just go ahead and tell us. ’Cause we’re gonna go through that wagon and turn everythin’ upside down till we find it. My partner’s got a terrible temper when he’s riled, so if we don’t find that money, he’ll burn that wagon up and everythin’ in it.”

  Terrified, Sue Ann climbed down out of the wagon and hurried to stand by her husband. “That’s a good girl,” Toby said. “Now, get us our money, all of it, and we’ll be biddin’ you folks a good evenin’.”

  “Please,” Sue Ann pleaded, “We don’t have but a little bit of money, and it’s all we’ve got to try to start a new life.”

  “You both look young enough to start all over again,” Toby told her. “And you ain’t that bad a-lookin’ woman. I bet if you was to start whorin’, you could make that money up in no time a-tall—and maybe enjoy yourself while you’re doin’ it. Whaddaya think, Dan? Think she could make it?”

  “I’d pay her for a ride or two,” Dan allowed. “Maybe I’ll look you up next time I’m in Buzzard’s Bluff,” he said to her. “Right now, I’ve got other places to go, so get that money.”

  “The next place you’re goin’ is hell.” The sinister warning came from behind the wagon, startling the two bandits. It was only for a split second and they both turned to shoot, firing wildly while Ben took dead aim, knocking Toby down with his first shot. Then, as Dan’s hurried shot embedded into the side of the wagon, Ben’s second shot slammed into his chest. Shocked into a state of paralysis, Robert and Sue Ann Grier were introduced to Ben Savage.

  He didn’t speak until he checked both men to make sure they were no longer a threat. After collecting both their firearms, he turned to the startled couple who were now holding onto each other in desperate thankfulness to still be alive. “Are you folks all right?”

  “We are now,” Robert said, “thanks to you.” He tried to say more, but words failed him.

  “It took me a while to see what was goin’ on, but I was ready to back you up,” another voice rang out, and they turned to see Tuck Tucker holding a shotgun.

  Even more confused by the sudden appearance of angels from every direction, Sue Ann was finally able to speak. “God bless you both. You saved our lives. I know they wouldn’t have left us unharmed.”

  “It’s my fault,” Robert confessed. “They warned us back in Galveston that there were outlaws attacking the freight wagons coming out of Houston, and in most cases leaving the drivers dead. But I thought the outlaws wouldn’t be interested in a farm wagon loaded with nothing but a plow, a little bit of furniture and some plants in pots.”

  “It’s a terrible thing,” Tuck allowed, “when a man and his wife can’t travel to a new place without havin’ to watch out for no-good outlaws.”

  “Where are you folks headin’?” Ben asked.

  “We’re goin’ to Buzzard’s Bluff,” Robert said. “My father is the postmaster there.”

  “Sam Grier,” Tuck said. “I heard he had a married son. Well, ain’t that somethin’?”

  “Buzzard’s Bluff,” Ben commented. “That’
s where we’re headin’. If you want to, you can join up with us and we’ll make the trip together.”

  “Mister,” Robert said, “we sure would like that! And we’ll surely be grateful for your company.” Sue Ann added her thanks, and Robert introduced themselves. “We’re Robert and Sue Ann Grier,” he said.

  “I’m Tuck Tucker, and this is Ben Savage,” he said, “and we’re plum tickled to meet you folks.”

  Ben couldn’t help being curious about one thing, so he asked Tuck. “When those two rode over to your wagon, what did you tell ’em to make ’em move on?”

  Tuck shrugged. “I don’t know. They asked me what I was haulin’, and I told ’em vinegar.”

  “And they believed you?”

  “I reckon,” Tuck answered, “’cause they asked me where I was haulin’ it to.”

  “Where’d you tell ’em?”

  “I told ’em to the vinegar mill,” Tuck replied.

  Puzzled, Ben hesitated before asking, “What’s a vinegar mill? I ain’t ever heard of a vinegar mill.” He looked at Robert and Sue Ann. They looked equally puzzled.

  “I don’t know,” Tuck said. “I ain’t ever heard of one, either.” When all three of them looked at him in amazement, he shrugged again. “It just sorta dropped outta my mouth—sounded like there oughta be such a thing.”

  Ben just continued to look at the comical, elf-like figure of a man for a few seconds before shaking his head and grinning. “Does sound like there oughta be such a thing,” he said before suggesting that Robert should leave his team hitched long enough to pull his wagon over to the other side of the clearing. “You’ll be handier to the water and we can build one big fire and share it.”

  “That sounds like a good idea to me,” Robert said at once.

  “Good,” Ben said. “You move on over to join up with us, and I’ll get us a fire goin’ after I do something with these bodies.” He paused to look around them. “Over on the other side of those trees, I reckon.”

  So, while Robert and Sue Ann moved their wagon over to the other side of the clearing, Ben and Tuck disposed of the bodies after taking inventory of the possessions of the two outlaws. Their reward didn’t add up to much, and outside of two fairly good horses, their combined estate was worth little more than a night of drinking at the Lost Coyote for Tuck—if he so desired to invest it that way—or the price of a month’s supply of flour for Sue Ann’s kitchen, if she was frugal with her use of that staple.

  Ben and Tuck used the late road agents’ horses to drag their bodies away from the clearing. And using a shovel Tuck carried on his wagon, they dug a shallow grave wide enough to contain both bodies. This was done as a courtesy to other folks who might stop there to camp. When they were finished with that chore, they returned to their camp to find Sue Ann already in preparation for making some pan biscuits to have with their supper. “Well, we’ve got a couple of horses and their saddles to decide what to do with,” Tuck said, since no one had brought it up.

  Robert was quick to insist that he and his wife felt no right to claim anything that belonged to the two men who had accosted them. “You took care of those two,” he said. “I didn’t do anything. So, as far as I’m concerned, everything they have is yours.” He looked at Sue Ann for confirmation, and she nodded her agreement.

  “Robert’s right,” she said. “As far as I’m concerned, we still have our lives to live because of what you did. And that’s as much as we could hope for.”

  “Why don’t we do this?” Ben suggested. “Tuck owns a harness shop in Buzzard’s Bluff. Saddles and harness are his business, so give him the saddles. I understand Henry Barnes buys and sells horses. See what Henry will give for the two horses, then you and Sue Ann take half of that and Tuck take the other half.”

  “What do you get out of it?” Robert quickly asked.

  “I reckon I get the right to say I didn’t kill those two men for money,” he said. His simple answer was met with an awkward silence that lasted until Tuck ended it with a comment.

  After gawking at Ben for a long moment before deciding he was sincere, he said, “Well, makin’ a little profit offa you gettin’ rid of those two sorry criminals don’t bother my conscience one bit. So that deal is fine by me.”

  “Good, then that’s settled,” Ben declared. “How long before those biscuits will be done?”

  Spirits were high at supper that night, and to welcome the couple to the Buzzard’s Bluff community, Ben untied one corner of the canvas and pulled one bottle of corn whiskey out, so they could all drink to the meeting of the two parties. As befitting a lady, Sue Ann took only a few sips from Robert’s cup. It having never occurred to either of them to ask what business Ben was in, Sue Ann was tempted to ask, “Won’t you have to answer to the owner when he finds out there’s a bottle of his whiskey missing?”

  Tuck chortled as he answered for Ben. “No, ma’am, it’s his whiskey.” Not understanding, she gave him a look of confusion, so he pointed to Ben and said again, “It’s his whiskey.” She was still not certain, for like her husband, she had assumed Ben might be a lawman, riding with Tuck as a guard for his cargo. Still chuckling, Tuck said, “Ben’s the owner of the Lost Coyote Saloon. This whiskey is for the saloon.”

  Ben was quick to clarify. “What Tuck means is I’m half-owner of the Lost Coyote. I’m a partner with a mighty fine lady named Rachel Baskin.”

  Robert was still shaking his head in amazement. After witnessing Ben take down two outlaws who already had their weapons in hand, he had been convinced that he was a lawman or a gun for hire.

  Four days’ travel found the two wagons approaching Tuttle’s store on the bank of the Navasota River. Wilfred Tuttle walked out into the yard to greet them as Tuck and Robert pulled their wagons to a stop. “I declare, Ben, looks like you doubled your wagon train since you came through here before.”

  “Howdy, Wilfred,” Ben returned. “Say howdy to Robert and Sue Ann Grier. They’re on their way to Buzzard’s Bluff. Robert is Sam Grier’s son, and they’re comin’ to look for a piece of land to settle. Robert’s a farmer.”

  “Is that a fact?” Tuttle responded. “Well, welcome to Brazos County, folks. What kinda farmin’ do you do, Robert?”

  Robert paused to help Sue Ann down from the wagon before answering. “Well, sir, I can grow most anything, so I’ll be wantin’ to grow food for my family to eat. Once I get a food crop established, I’ll want to start on a peach orchard. I know how to grow the best peaches you’ll ever eat. That’ll be my money crop.” He smiled at Sue Ann and said, “We’re plannin’ on another crop that’ll cost more money than it produces.”

  Sue Ann blushed sweetly and patted her stomach. Ben hadn’t noticed until then that she was showing a little baby bump. “I’m hopin’ for a boy,” Robert joked. “I’ll put him to work as soon as he can walk.”

  “Well, congratulations on the start of your family,” Tuttle said. “As young as you two look, you must notta been married long.”

  “Six months,” Robert said.

  “Newlyweds,” Tuck declared, “and you’ve decided to settle in Buzzard’s Bluff. How’d you decide that? ’Cause your daddy’s in Buzzard’s Bluff?”

  “Well, I reckon,” Robert answered, “that had a lot to do with it, but that ain’t the only reason. My dad said the land and the climate around here would be right for growin’ my peaches.”

  “Is that what that is in them little pots in the back of your wagon?” Tuck asked.

  “That’s right,” Robert answered. “Those little seedlings will be bearing peaches someday.”

  Finding the conversation interesting, Tuttle was moved to ask a question. “So you’re gonna be lookin’ for some land to grow your peaches on, right?” Robert said that was the first thing he had to find. “I know where you can get forty acres right on the river for nothin’,” Tuttle said. When he saw Robert’s eyes open wide with interest, he said, “Old man Mutt Oakley had a forty-acre patch not two miles from here. He passed away last win
ter. and there ain’t nobody claimed that farm. There’s a right stout cabin on it, too. I expect that’ud be a good place for your farm, if you could move in there before somebody else finds it.”

  Tuck grinned slyly and commented, “And he’d be real close to the store, here, to get most of his supplies. Right?”

  “Why, that’s right,” Tuttle said with a chuckle. “I hadn’t thought about that.” He received a cynical snort from Tuck for his comment.

  “Well, that sure sounds like something I’d like to take a look at,” Robert said, immediately interested. He looked at Sue Ann and she nodded at once.

  “I know where Mutt’s place is,” Tuck volunteered. “I sold him some harness. I’ll take you out there when you’re ready to go look at it.”

  “I’d sure appreciate that,” Robert said and looked again toward Sue Ann. “I told you comin’ out here where my dad is was a good idea. And it sure looks like the Lord’s sendin’ us a lotta good help to get us here.”

  CHAPTER 11

  As soon as the horses and mules were rested enough to continue, the two-wagon train left Tuttle’s store and pulled in to Buzzard’s Bluff a little over two hours later. They split up then, with Ben and Tuck heading for the Lost Coyote, while Robert and Sue Ann pulled around behind the post office. Robert and Tuck agreed to take a ride out to look at the forty acres Tuttle had told them about. “Better take a day or two to see your pa,” Tuck said. “Then just give me a holler, and we’ll go see that place.”

  “I thought you might show up sometime today,” Rachel greeted Ben when he walked in the back door, looking for help to unload the whiskey. “You have any trouble?”

  “Nothin’ to speak of,” Ben answered. “We hooked up with some new folks on their way here. Sam Grier’s son and his wife, they’re lookin’ to settle around here.”

  “I didn’t know Sam had a son,” Rachel remarked. “He’s never mentioned it that I recall.”