by W. R. Benton
“For a dollar?”
“A dollar. See, I trust you and if you do me right, I'll see you're used when I need little errands or other things done around town.”
“Deal. Let's go, but why three banks?” The boy started walking and Dutch followed.
“Son, that is none of your business. I expect you to guide me, not question me, fair enough?”
“For a dollar it's fair enough, as long as you ain't breakin' the law. I was brought up by my parents to obey the laws of man and God.”
“I wish I had been.” Dutch muttered.
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing. I was thinking out loud. What's your name, or do I keep calling you boy or son?”
“I was named Isaac, but I don't cotton to it much. My friends call me Duke.”
Dutch stopped walking, extended his hand and said, “I'm called Butch, Duke, and I'm glad to meet you.” Since his civilian employment was usually as a butcher when not in prison, he'd answered to Butch many times.
After they shook hands, they continued walking until Duke said, “This is the first bank and it's the First City Bank of Kansas City.”
“Wait for me and I'll be right back.” Dutch said, entered the bank.
The bank looked secure enough, with most of the building made out of granite, and he counted four guards. At a tellers window he said, “I'd like to open an account.”
“I can help you with that, unless it's a sizable amount.”
“I don't know if fifty thousand dollars is a large amount to y'all or not.”
He heard the teller gulp and then reply, “Wait right here, sir, as I get the bank President. He personally opens the larger accounts.”
Ten minutes later he was fifty thousand dollars lighter and carried a bankbook in his coat pocket. At the next two banks he deposited all but five thousand dollars, which he suspected he needed for various expenses, including travel to New Orleans. By the time they arrived at a general store, he carried three fat bankbooks.
Realizing Duke might want something, he pulled a dollar coin from his pocket and tossed it to the boy, “You might want something.”
“I might, but it ain't likely. I'm savin' my money and have over ten dollars in the bank right now.”
“You're a smart lad, then.” Dutch said as they entered the store.
“How may I help you, sir?” a portly clerk asked.
“Get me another Stetson, size seven and three-eights, and two boxes of .45 pistol ammunition, one box of .44, along with the things on this list.” He handed a small piece of paper to the man.
“I have all of this, sir. If you'll give me a few minutes, I'll gather it all up for you. Oh, how much laudanum do you want? I have it in small bottles, half-pints, pints and quarts.”
“Small bottle; I use it for injuries and have no laudanum habit to feed.”
“Yes, sir, I'll have your order prepared in a few minutes.”
Suddenly a thought came to Dutch and when he neared Duke he said, “Are you on the street by the hotel most days?”
“I am, and I rent a room less than a block away, why?”
“I have a killer that may be following me, with his wife and baby, and was thinking I could pay you to keep an eye out for them.”
“How much are you talkin' about, and my paper job comes first.”
“How about ten dollars a week?” He reached in his pocket, pulled out a golden eagle and handed it to Duke. “Here is your first week's pay up front.”
Looking at the coin, the young man asked, “You will pay me this every week to keep watch for a man and his family? Why so much?”
“A few months back, the man and I argued over a horse that I owned. He wanted to buy her, but she wasn't leaving my hands for any price. When I refused, we got into a fist fight. I won. As he left my house, he threatened to kill me one day. Now, I've seen him on the trail a few times and I take the threat seriously.”
“Oh, that's not good. I can see that happening too, because some people always want things their way all the time.”
“Now, listen and I'll tell you what these people look like.” Dutch said and then went into details about Lew, Susan and little Billy.
“I have your order, sir.” the clerk said as he wrapped the goods up in brown paper, tying it all together using a brown twine. He placed the Stetson on the package and added, “Try the hat on, if you'd like.”
Dutch took his old hat off and tried on the new one; the fit was perfect.
“It looks good on you.” Duke said.
“How much is the hat?”
“Five dollars, but it's the best made, sir.”
“Oh, I know the quality well.” He took his old hat and placed it on the youngster's head. Smiling he said, “You can have this one. It needs a good cleaning, and I suspect most of the dirt and grime will come off with a brush, water and some elbow grease.”
The hat was a little big on Duke, but he owned no hat or cap, so he was overwhelmed. He started to take the hat off, but Dutch said, “Keep 'er, son, because if you don't, I'll just throw it away.”
“Ya sure? This is still a nice hat.”
“It'd cost me as much to have it cleaned as a new one does. It's yours, if you want it.”
“Sure, I'll take it, and thanks, Butch.”
“I want you to take all my supplies to the hotel and tell the clerk to allow you to put the stuff in my room, okay? If the clerk gives you any trouble, tell him I'll buy the hotel just to fire him. But, first, show me a good cowboy saloon.”
Fifteen minutes later, Dutch was in a cowboy saloon at a table that gave him a clear view of the windows and door. His back against a wall, he felt safer than he had in weeks, and he ordered a bottle of rye and a mug of cold beer. While he was dressed in clean clothing, he was in a hurry to change into his dandy clothes, so he'd not be so quickly recognized by bounty hunters.
He reached under the table and released the leather thongs on his pistols. He then poured a double and sipped his drink.
An old soiled dove with a nice body neared, gave him a big smile and asked, “Lookin' fer a good time, sugar? A poke is two bits and anything special you want we'll haggle over a little.”
“Move on. I ain't interested.”
“I can bring a smile to your face or your money back.” She placed both hands on his table and leaned over, showing him a view of her breasts.
Pulling his skinning knife and sinking the tip hard into the table between her hands, Dutch said, “I told you, I ain't interested. Now move on. ”
“Damn mister, ya drunk or something?”
“Nope, I ain't drunk. I just don't have any use for a whore.”
“All women are whores, I just charge up front and don't bleed your ass dry over forty years.” The soiled dove replied.
“Now, that you may be right about.” He laughed at her logic, but said, “If I need you, I'll let you know.”
It was then two men walked in and he saw one man nudge the other with his elbow, and then look toward him. Words were exchanged between the two, but Dutch didn't hear anything.
Both looked enough alike to be brothers, or at least cousins. They were average size men, light brown hair, cleanly shaven, both wore black frock coats with gray trousers. One wore an old Yankee blue slouch hat, likely a symbol of his allegiance in the recent war, and the other a fairly new brown Stetson.
Shit, looks like a fight coming and if so, I need to kill both of them. If they're carrying a dodger on me, I'll end up in jail. I need to kill 'em and then get my ass back to the hotel pronto. I can't let the coppers near me, until I have some better clothes on , he thought. Money and appearance speaks loudly.
Chapter 18
THE next morning at the trader's, Lew had a few more things gathered up for him that he'd forgotten to get the previous day. He was deeply ashamed that the night before he'd made love to Susan as Billy slept on a pallet near the stove. At the time he knew it was the wrong thing to do, but neither of them had slept with another in so long
their passion exploded with just one kiss, and he'd done exactly what he didn't really want to do. This morning, Susan acted as if nothing had happened and was her old self. He, however, was a different story, at least on the inside. Society at the time required a year of grieving before a man or woman could start seeing another person, and sex was to be saved for marriage. While he was no longer a preacher man, old habits and beliefs were hard to ignore.
Damn me, now what? What if she becomes pregnant? I'll have to marry her, of course, taking the only honorable way out, but I knew better than to crawl under the covers with a young beautiful woman. Hell, she'd already said she was attracted to me. I'm attracted to her too, but what we did, in the eyes of God, was so wrong.
“Did you hear me?” the trader asked.
“I'm sorry, my mind is on the rest of my trip.”
“I said you owe me seventy cents.”
“Oh, sure. Here.” He handed the man the exact cost.
He gathered up his laudanum, some mineral oil, and a salve for his horses, and returned to the room. When he entered, Susan was holding little Billy on her right hip, and she smiled at him. Lew averted his eyes.
“John, does what we did last night bother you? It shouldn't and I'm no whore, either. I love you, even if you don't me, so I'm comfortable with what we did. It was the first time in my life I enjoyed loving a man completely.”
Tossing his items on the bed, he met her eyes and said, “What we did was wrong in the eyes of—”
“God? I find it hard to believe God would be upset because I made love to the man I care about.”
“It is a sin of the flesh.”
“Well, ya should have thought of that last night before you started . . .uh, poking me. I've not loved a man since Billy was conceived, and I needed you—physically and emotionally. As a matter of fact, I was hoping we could do it all again, before we left this morning. I can get him to sleep in a few minutes. Now, if this makes me a whore, then I guess that's what I am.”
Lew was shocked, because his dead wife had never talked about sex, never. Susan moved to him, raised his face and asked, “Don't you want to love me?”
Once again, Lew made what he later thought was the wrong choice.
Three days later, Susan pointed to the west and said, “Vultures.”
“I think I've seen more of them damned birds on this trip than I usually do in a year.”
“Are we going to see what's dead?”
“Uh-huh, because they may not be dead yet or there might be some survivors.”
They veered to the west and moved straight for the circling birds. When they were within fifty feet of whatever was dead the great birds all flew into the air. It was then Lew saw it was a dead man.
He dismounted, pulled his pistol and walked to the decaying form.
Turning to Susan, who now had a neckerchief covering her nose and mouth from the stench, he said, “Dead Injun, and he was killed with either a Sharps or some other big gun. Oh, this is nasty.” The vultures had pulled long strands of intestines out, as well as the dead man's liver and other major organs. Big green blow flies were heard and seen buzzing around the body, as maggots crawled in and out the man's mouth. He puked, wiped his mouth off with the back of his left hand, and then moved back to his horse.
“Let's get the hell out of here. Lawdy, what a smell.”
“How long has he been dead? And you did say he was an Injun, right?”
“He was an Omaha warrior, and I'd guess he's been dead less than a week. He's partially decayed, which makes a mighty fine meal for a vulture or 'possum.”
“How come his belly was all swelled up like that?”
“Trapped gases in the body was what I was told in the war. In the heat like we've had the last few days he must have swelled up fast. Of course, those nasty-ass vultures love their food gamy. I suspect they'll be back shortly and within two days all that will remain are the bones of the man.”
“Any idea where his killer was?”
“That ain't real hard to figure out, not really. The only place he could have been was near the big boulders back there. From what I saw, he took a big round almost in the center of his chest, and large chunks of bone was missing from his body.”
“Dutch did this killing, don't you know?”
“It ain't against the law to kill Injuns.” Lew said.
“Well, it ain't against the law to kill red people, Niggers, or Mexicans either, but that doesn't make it right in God's eyes. The Bible says 'Thou shalt not kill' and it doesn't go on to say, but you can kill some people if they're a different color.”
Shaking his head, Lew replied, “After what you and I have done together, you dare bring up the Bible?”
“We broke no commandments, because I am not any man's woman, and I don't think God will judge us harshly for loving each other. I wanted what happened because I've fallen in love with you, John.”
Out of the blue, Lew said, “John is not my real name. My real name is Stewart, Lew Stewart, but I really was a preacher. I can't use my real name because I've murdered a few men that I think were involved in the rapes and killings of my women. I'm sure the law is looking for me.”
“Murder is a pretty hard word. Are you sure you murdered them?”
“I was a wannabe gunslinger in my youth, had a fairly big name and I killed other men for money. I didn't really kill but two. Then, along came the war and it almost drove me insane with the blood and guts I saw. I killed more in that war than I ever thought would be possible. My hands are dyed a permanent red, from blood, because I've killed men in every way you can imagine. The war was a complete nightmare on one hell of a big scale. I no longer dream of my killings in the war and now the individual faces of those I killed are fading, but yes, I've murdered. After the war, well, I turned to God. Once my family was killed I pushed Him out of my life again and I've murdered again.”
“In cold-blood?”
“Well, no, but in one case it was pure murder. The man was in a bed in a doctor’s office and I knifed him to death. He admitted to raping my girls and wife. Something came over me and I cut him up like a hog during a butchering. He had no weapons and I thought I'd feel better after he was dead, but I felt nothing. I was empty inside after I wiped the blood from my hands and I felt absolutely nothing. I'd expect at least a sense of satisfaction, only it wasn't there.”
“What did you feel when we found Samuel dead? Be honest with me.”
“I felt, uh, cheated. I wanted to be the man that killed the worthless sonofabitch.”
“Okay, so after we kill Dutch then what? You'll be a wanted man and they will come looking for you.”
“Do you honestly think the law will look hard for a man who avenged the rape and murders of his three little girls and wife? Oh, they may look for me for a little, but there are few men in this country that would not try to avenge the murders of his loved ones. I think most lawmen would agree I had the right to do what I did, even if I did violate the law.”
“You didn't answer my question. What will you do after you kill Dutch?”
“I plan to keep the name John Stoner, settle down with a good woman, and try to live a peaceful life. I know after what I've done, I can never pick up another Bible and preach God's word again.”
“Why not? The good Book promises that God will forgive all our sins, if we only ask.”
“God may very well forgive Lew Stuart, but I will never forgive myself. I'm glad the wind has picked up some, because I still smell that dead Injun.”
“His remains were a bit ripe. John, I can't call you Lew, but if you want to settle down with a good woman, keep me in mind. While I may not agree with what you did, I can honestly and completely understand why you killed those men. But, avenging their deaths will not bring them back, nor will it satisfy your anger over their murders.”
“I understand that about the revenge. As for keeping you in mind, well, I've considered you already.”
“And, what did you decide?”
“I'm very fond of you, rely on you already, and love little Billy, only I'd not call what I feel for you love yet. I do feel butterflies in my stomach when you kiss me, but I have some things to work over in my mind first and put Dutch down. Maybe after that part of my life is closed, I can start new again.”
“Fair enough, or so I think. It's an honest answer so I can live with your response. Tonight after we're under the blankets, I'm going to give you a couple of other reasons to love me.”
Lew blushed, gave a nervous laugh, and said, “I . . . I look, uh, forward to this evening.”
Susan laughed and then asked, “Does it embarrass you to discuss sex?”
“Uh, yes, it does. My dead wife and I were married for twenty years and not once did I see her naked in the daytime. She was no prude, but sex was not something we discussed together.”
“I think it needs talked about and often. There are many ways a couple can please each other and we'll discuss all of them. I'll teach you a few things my first husband taught me later this evening. Now, enough talking because we're out on the open plains and only God knows who is near us. We need to be scanning the countryside. I learned all of this from a man I love dearly.” She met his eyes and smiled warmly.
Giving a low cackle, Lew said, “You're right, and for right now we need less talking and more watching.”
Kills Many led the horse with Dog's body on it into the middle of the Omaha village. As the warriors were dismounting, Charging Bear neared, but didn't speak. He knew Kills Much, as the senior warrior, would speak in a few minutes. Other villagers were rushing to see who the dead warrior was and murmurs were heard that it was Barking Dog.
“My people, I have returned with the body of the One Who Is No More.”
“And, tell me, Kills Many,” Charging Bear asked, “how did my nephew die?”
“He died well and like a true man.”
“And how do you know these words are true? How do you know he died bravely?”
“I know, father, because I am the man who killed him.” The warrior met his chief's eyes as he spoke.
“Why would you, a member of the Omaha tribe, kill one of your own people?”