by J. Lee Butts
Don't know if anyone else noticed it, but Boz was wound up tighter than a banjo string when he said, "Tell your men to ride out, Pitt. Do it now. Same goes for you, Tingwell."
Pitt snorted, "You've lost your mind, Tatum. My men will cut you to ribbons. All I have to do is give the word."
So low I could barely hear him, Boz said, "Go ahead. Give the word. But know this. Soon as you open your mouth there won't be nothin' left of your head but the stalk of bone it sits on."
Pitt's eyes got the size of twenty-dollar gold pieces. Calmly as possible, I added, "My partner's not real stable right now, gents. If I were you, I'd do what he says. Bull, you'd best tell your clan to hotfoot it back to the ranch. The Texas Rangers will sort this out. Take care of whoever is responsible. Understand?"
Hardy Tingwell carefully pushed his plainsman's hat to the back of his head and said, "Guess we've got something of a standoff goin' here, don't we, Rangers?"
Boz let a strangled chuckle escape. I glanced at Hardy and said, "No. No standoff. If anything goes amiss, Hardy, my first shot will blow most of your old man's brains all over your bib-front shirt, and the second is guaranteed to send you to God on an outhouse door."
Bull Tingwell raised his left hand and gestured for his volatile son to shut his stupid mouth. The old man said, "Get our boys out of town right now, Hardy. Point 'em for the ranch. Don't look back. These two men don't talk just to hear their heads rattle. They'll kill me, sure as Hell's hot. Go on, git, boy."
"Not till Pitt sends his men packin' too, Pa." Had to hand it to the crazier of old man Tingwell's idiot sons. He'd grown a small piece of brain somewhere along the road.
Pitt turned to Nick Fox. "You and Clements get everyone back to the ranch. Don't cause any trouble between here and there. That's an order, you hear me? Do it now." You'd of had to be deaf and stupid not to get his point. Underneath what he was barely able to whisper was a simple message. "Don't do anything dim-witted. If you do, Tingwell and I are dead men for sure."
Took almost ten minutes for all those angry cowboys to get saddled up and on the move. Tingwell's bunch fogged out of town first. Their quickness didn't sit well with Fox and Clements. The two hired killers rode up to the spot where we still had both family leaders under the gun.
Fox yelled, "If we get ambushed on the way out of town, I'll come back here and kill both you Ranger sons of bitches like yeller dogs."
Once the fuming clans vacated the street and headed north, the situation leveled out a mite. Guess nothing out of the way occurred. Both groups must've gone their separate ways without incident.
Boz let the hammers down on his shotgun. I followed my partner's lead. Pitt pulled his hat off, and wiped an ocean of sweat from saturated hair. Old Man Tingwell didn't act like he'd been bothered in the least. We'd barely managed to feel a degree of relief when a series of shocking rifle blasts, from near the jail, rocked us again.
Boz led the way back past the Fin and Feather. The rest of us followed fast as we could hoof it. Stretched out, about ten feet from the front door of the jail, Morgan Tingwell flopped around like a beached carp. Ruby stood on the porch, jacked another shell into a Yellow Boy Winchester, and popped him again. Think that one probably put an end to him. Got him just above the right eye, and ripped off most of his head.
I ran to Ruby and snatched the rifle out of her hand. Girl's eyes were glazed over like she was in some kind of a trance, or something. Bull Tingwell headed for his blood-soaked son. Ole Bull fell to his knees in the dusty street and started howling like the only wolf left in the great cold and lonely.
Pitt stopped near the corner of the saloon, and didn't seem inclined to come any closer. Personally couldn't blame him. Way I had it figured, Tingwell would probably find some way to point the finger at the elder Pitt for the stupid, lust-driven Morgan's death. That would naturally lead to another gory shooting.
Boz bent over the boy's lifeless body, glanced up at me, and shook his head. A still-blubbering Bull Tingwell jumped to wobbly feet. Boz whipped his shotgun barrel around and knocked the pistol out of the old geezer's hand. Tingwell yelped like a whipped dog and started for Ruby.
I stepped in front of the shaking girl. Leveled my rifle up at Tingwell's middle. He stopped, pointed a trembling finger at Ruby, and yelled, "I saved you, goddamnit. Brought you to these men. This is how you repay me?"
Ruby pushed me aside and screamed, "You and your family kept me captive for more than a month. You did nothing, until Lucius and Boz forced the issue. If you'd taken the proper steps in the first place, none of this would have happened."
Bull tried his best to get at Ruby. Boz held him off, while I tried to stay between them. Bull kept yelling, "You killed my son, you whoring bitch."
Under my arm Ruby shouted, "He tried to break into the jail. You told him where I was, didn't you, old man? It's your fault."
Her unexpected revelation stopped Bull's mindless ranting. Rooted him to the ground like a frozen tree in a blue norther. He tried to speak again, but nothing understandable came out.
Boz said, "Take your son and go home, Mr. Tingewell. We told Miss Black to defend herself should anyone unauthorized try to enter the jail during our absence. Morgan had no business here and, from the appearance of our front door, he must have attempted to force his way in with a pry bar of some kind." Boz searched along the ground to his right and pointed. "Yes, there, by the hitch rack. He probably dropped it when the first shot hit him."
Tingwell shook as if in the throes of some hideous East Texas swamp fever. He turned, and in a voice that sounded like it came from the bottom of a newly opened grave, said to Boz, "I hold you Rangers responsible for my boy's murder, Tatum. My son's dead because of you. I'll have your blood in return and, by God, I'll take your lives any way I can get them." Then, he whipped back around on Ruby and hissed, "If there's a God in heaven, you'll die alongside them, you black-hearted bitch."
Romulus Pitt got himself horsed and headed out of town as fast as good animal flesh could run. Boz and I both figured he couldn't wait to get back to his ranch and have a good laugh over all the Tingwell men his clan had left in Iron Bluff's street.
Boz offered to take the dead men to the undertaker's, but the elder Tingwell refused. "I'll bury my son on the ranch. Don't want him in no town cemetery. These others was fine young men. Neither of them ever so much as hurt a fly. I feel obligated to take care of 'em. Besides, I don't want you bastards doin' nuthin' for me. Get the hell out of my way." The old man loaded up his dead son, and the two other cowboys, and led them away.
We moved aside, stood on the jail's little porch, and watched ole Bull leave town. Once he'd disappeared from view, I turned to the door and examined the damage Morgan had left behind. Noticed several bullet holes near the knob.
"Ruby, did Morgan fire into the door?" I asked.
"Yes. He pried on it for some time. I kept pleading with him to stop, but he wouldn't. Then, he gave up on the crowbar and started blasting at the knob. That's when I fired back. You can see where I shot through the door at him, up here near the peep slot."
Sure enough, a single hole, about shoulder high, had exited exactly where she indicated. I picked at the splinters and said, "But you opened the door and shot him at least two more times, didn't you."
Her chin dropped to her chest. We could barely hear her say, "Yes. And by God, I'd do it again. Worthless scum didn't deserve to live."
Boz pushed us both inside, and slammed the bolt on the door. Ruby fell into a chair, leaned forward with her head in her hands, and wept. I tried to comfort her, but didn't do much good. Reassurance usually proves about as worthless as speaking Chinese to a Texas mustang when you've just finished killing a man the way she'd killed Morgan Tingwell. But for the life of me, I still can't imagine why she got so upset. Hell, she'd said it herself. He deserved to die. His passing at my hand, or Boz's, wouldn't have bothered either of us much, but Ruby suffered over the act for quite a spell.
Boz threw his hat on
the desk, ran the fingers of both hands through his hair, and said, "Well, Lucius, we've got one hell of a mess on our hands. Have to admit I never expected so much death in such a short time. Looks to me like we're gonna have the war we've been expecting on our hands right damned quick. These back-and-forth shootings, hangings, and such are sure to break out into the open shortly. I think Bull's good for his word. We'd best keep a weather eye on our backs from now on."
Tried to be optimistic when I said, "Maybe we can still keep the lid on this jug sealed. You know, make sure they stay out of town. Do their killing somewhere else."
"I doubt it." Boz shook his head, pulled a six-inch bowie from his boot, and picked at his fingernails. "Worst part of the whole dance is there probably ain't time enough to get any Ranger reinforcements in here to help us out. Take a week, or ten days, to bring in a full contingent of Rangers to put this thing down, even longer for the state to send in the militia. Think we're in this one alone."
But he was wrong about that. Next morning, Rip Thorn made it back to town. Got to admit, I felt one hell of a lot better when that bear-sized man showed up.
11
"DONE COME TO KILL YOU BOYS"
"DAMN, YOU MEAN I chased Judge Stanley Cooper all over hell and yonder for nothing?" Rip stood in the middle of the office holding the court order in his hand like a pet bird that had died.
I said, "Sorry, Rip. Situation worked itself out about as well as we could have wished—at least as far as Ruby is concerned."
"What do you mean by 'as far as Ruby is concerned'?" The big man's neck and face colored up, and there, for a minute, I thought he just might be on the verge of losing his temper.
I said, "Well, Bull Tingwell helped us get Ruby back. Unfortunately, we've had an uncommon number of killings done by both sides since you left. Looks to me as though our worst fears concerning this whole situation are about to come to a fiery peak. We're pretty sure it was members of the Pitt bunch that waylayed two of Tingwell's men yesterday evening, right in the middle of Main Street."
Boz added, "And even worse than all of that, but wonderful news for us, Ruby shot hell out of Morgan Tingwell when he tried to break into the jail and steal her back. Ole Bull is not a happy man today. Figure he's got men digging three graves out on his ranch."
Rip threw Judge Cooper's stamped, sealed, and signed document on the desk and said, "Well, hell, you boys have been busy since I left, haven't you."
At the same instant, Boz and I both said, "That ain't the half of it."
Took us several more minutes to fill Thorn in on the entire story since his departure for San Augustine. All he could do was shake his massive head and look thoughtful.
When we'd finished dropping as much bad news on the man as we could remember, he said, "Well, don't sound like no Sunday picnic coming our way. Be damned lucky if both tribes don't ride into town and shoot hell out of everything they can see, including us."
Boz said, "Think we'd best stick close to the jail, boys. Figure we'll be safer here than anywhere else—for a few days at least. I wouldn't want to get caught out in the briars and brambles north of town with men being lynched and ambushed right and left the way they are. Gonna have to keep alert, even while here in town."
Way it all fell out, Boz set up a patrol schedule that kept at least two of us on the street, from daybreak till midnight, while one man stayed in the jail with Ruby. He rotated the plan around in such a manner as to give me a chance to spend more time with the girl, and the arrangement worked pretty well, for the first day or two. By then, Ruby'd had all of Marshal Stonehill's lockup a body could stand. Decided she wanted to go on a picnic. Boz didn't cotton to the idea a bit and tried his best to discourage her, but Ruby pleaded. Girl could be right persuasive when she wanted.
Hermione Blackstock prepared a nice basket for us. We headed out toward Lone Pine in search of a suitable spot. Boz insisted we stay to the south. Figured it would be safer.
Found a shady cove on the banks of the Angelina a few miles out of town. Fast-moving water spilled over moss-covered rocks and helped cool the surrounding area considerably. Patches of red, yellow, blue, and purple wildflowers grew in shaded spots along both banks, and scented the heavy air with a perfume that delighted my beautiful companion.
I threw down a blanket. Ruby got the thick ham sandwiches, pickled eggs, and other items Hermonie fixed for us arranged to her satisfaction. We settled in for a pleasant afternoon.
The girl's strange captivity had started to fade into memory. I noticed as how she'd finally begun to assume the personality of a spirited, unattached young woman again. Ruby Black was one hell of a flirt too, and knew exactly how to make an interested man get flushed, fill his britches full of sweat, and squirm.
She glanced up from a checkerboard we'd brought along, gave me one of those "Aren't-I-just-the-most-beautiful-thing-you've-ever-seen" looks, and said, "Do you have a lady friend in Fort Worth, Lucius?"
"Lady friend?"
"Yes. You know what I mean. Some young lady you're courting."
"Courting?"
"I hadn't noticed that you answer questions with more questions until now."
'Bout then I realized I probably sounded like an idiot, but couldn't help myself—typical man-in-the-company-of-an-overpowering-female-presence kind of thing. Encounters for us, in and around the jail, had been seriously constricted by the close proximity of Boz, or someone else, during the entire time of our acquaintance. The only exception had been the walk she'd insisted we take to the church. Now, here we were totally alone, and my brain had turned to mush and detached itself from my mouth.
With some degree of personal embarrassment, I stared into her eyes said, "There is no woman, young or old, in my life, Ruby. Me and Boz spend too much time running evil people to ground. As a consequence, I'm not sure any lady of breeding, or refinement, would want to waste time allowing a man like me to bestow my sporadic attentions on her."
Ruby's full, rouged lips parted in a coquettish smile. She tilted her head and said, "You're wrong, Lucius. There are plenty of girls who'd be thrilled to know a handsome gentleman possessed of such outstanding qualities as yours might be interested in them." She let the obvious compliment lie between us for a beat or two, then added, "Know for certain I would."
Her open, and extremely bold, invitation took me by surprise. But when she leaned forward and kissed me, in much the same manner she had the night of our walk to the church, it became crystal clear that Ruby Black was more than a little interested. The heat from that first kiss had stayed with me, right up till the moment of the second one there on the banks of the Angelina.
Somewhere deep inside my thundering heart, I knew I should have pushed her away and pointed out such conduct didn't become ladies of sophistication. I thought to myself that passionate kisses between two people who barely knew one another must surely have violated the rules of gentlemanly conduct, in some manner or other.
But chivalrous behavior was a thing foreign to an ill-educated ruffian such as myself. So I kissed her back. Hell, I kissed her till we both almost exploded with desire. Fifteen or twenty minutes into the thing, her lips were swollen, her cheeks reddened by my poor efforts at shaving. I think she would have continued for as long, and gone as far, as I would have wanted to go with my amorous advances.
After an extended bout of boldly ardent conduct, on both our parts, unforeseen gallantry did rear its ugly head, in spite of all I could do to fight it off. Wrestled my most wicked cravings down, and pushed the still-passionate girl to arm's length. No display of pained disappointment appeared on her face. On the contrary, she looked most pleased that I'd taken the initiative and stopped our enthusiastic grappling match, before we'd gone too far to turn back.
She smiled again, traced my lower lip with her thumb, and said, "There's plenty of time, dear Lucius. Perhaps a lifetime."
The rest of our starry-eyed afternoon by the Angelina exists in my memory as a bewilderment of the mind—a kind of dreamli
ke recollection that comes to me as if viewed underwater, through a piece of cut glass. Somehow we got back to town, but any detailed recollection of the return on my part would be pure conjecture. Like a mischievous red-haired sprite, Ruby had bewitched me, and the spell that stunning girl cast left me in a state of profound happiness.
The passionate reservoir of overheated lightheadedness I felt when in her presence got pushed aside two days later. Rip and I walked our usual patrol that evening. A molten sun dipped low on the horizon and fried the earth to sizzling. Everyone we met expressed a degree of near-cosmic satisfaction that the temperature would soon drop to something approximating a bearable, but still sweat-saturated, level.
Horace Breedlove took a moment from sweeping the boardwalk in front of his store to make small talk as we passed. "Hotter'n a burning stump, ain't it, Rangers?"
Rip winked at me and said, "Hell, Horace, it's so hot I done heard as how a farmer out toward Lone Pine is havin' to feed his chickens cracked ice to keep 'em from laying hard-boiled eggs."
In the spirit of undeclared competition, and not to be outdone, Breedlove shot back, "That a fact? Have to admit I was not aware of such singular marvels. I can testify, however, that one of my customers showed me a rash of blisters that popped out on his pistol belt. Man said he was absolutely certain they were a direct result of this month-long crush of heat we've suffered. Sold him a can of Morton's Prickly Heat Powder to treat the problem."
Rip threw his head back and laughed. "He must've been over San Augustine way for a few days. When I visited there, a week or so back, potatoes was bakin' in the ground."