Speak My Love

by Speak My Love (NCP) (lit)

  Pandemonium broke loose as realization swept like a fast moving tornado through the assembled group. The mayor had returned and not as a ghost but as a real live person. Over the buzz of many voices someone shouted derisively, "Hey, mayor, did you catch the Kickass Gang?"

  "I sure as hell did."

  Surprised silence followed Milo's reply. Finally a female voice from the back of the room asked meekly, "Where are they?"

  Milo jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "They're all tied up over at the jail." His beady eyes searched the assembled group until they came to rest on Sheriff Thomas. "Hey, lawman, get over to the jail and lock the lot of 'em up."

  Sheriff Thomas was sitting on a pew near the back of the sanctuary. He leaped to his feet. As he stepped on toes and collided with bodies to get to the aisle, he called nervously, "Yes sir, Mr. Mayor, Your Honor." He gave Milo a wide berth as he stepped around the bedraggled mayor and hurried out the door and toward the jail.

  As his backside disappeared through the arched portal, Milo called after him, "And don't untie the sons-of-bitches until you get 'em inside a cell. I don't want the trouble of having to round 'em up again."

  By now Winthrop Throckmorton had found his way out of his pew was making strides up the aisle toward the mayor. "The money, Mister Mayor, did you recover the money?"

  Milo stood with his feet wide apart. "I sure as hell did, just like I said I would. I'm a man of my word."

  The dignified bank president let go with a most undignified "Whoopee!" as he came to stand directly in from of the disgruntled mayor. "Where is it? I need to get it back to the safety of the bank as quickly as possible."

  Milo snorted, "Safety of the bank, that's a laugh." His expression softened. "It's in my saddle bags. My horse is tied just outside the church."

  Winthrop murmured an almost inaudible thank you as he turned and motioned for two of his bank employees to follow him. Then he said in a loud clear voice, "Continue the festivities. We now have even more reason to celebrate."

  Milo's face was once more a thundercloud of anger. He lifted one hand. The other hand rested on his six-gun. "Not yet. There's one other matter that needs to be settled first." He walked down the aisle toward Ian and Priscilla. "You betrayed me, Ian Alwin, and after I extended to you my hospitality and gave you my trust."

  Reverend Hogan shouted, "Stop, Mr. Stanton!" His words halted Milo midway to the altar.

  Milo aimed a fierce stare in Ian's direction. "You double crossed me you dirty low-down, ornery skunk."

  In a commanding voice the reverend said, "This is the Lord's house. There will be no violence here." In a more conciliatory tone he added, "You missed the wedding ceremony but you are in time for the other festivities of Cactus Gulch's first Annual Thanksgiving Day Celebration."

  Milo turned his intimidating stare toward Reverend Hogan. "Stay out of this, preacher. It ain't none of your concern." His menacing leer and harsh words frightened Reverend Hogan into shaking silence. Then he turned his gaze back to Ian. "You and me got a score to settle."

  Ian refused to reveal the effect the mayor's ferocious look was having on his equilibrium. "That's not true." Even as he spoke his denial he was sure that from where Milo stood, it seemed to be. Maybe he should try to explain. "The only crime I am guilty of is falling in love with Priscilla. And she loves me too. So you see--"

  Milo interrupted, "I see just one thing and that is you betrayed me. Therefore I'm challenging you to a fight to settle the matter."

  Ian knew he didn't have a prayer in a fight of any kind against Milo, unless... His clever mind latched onto a conceivable possibility. "What kind of a fight?"

  The citizens of Cactus Gulch were old hands at running for cover and dodging bullets. By now the majority of them had hunkered down between pews or found safety behind posts. A few were brave enough to peek over the top of benches or peer around post corners to see what was happening.

  Reverend Hogan extended both arms heavenward. "Remember, brethren, blessed is the peacemaker." With that ambiguous admonition he dropped to his knees and took refuge behind his podium.

  Milo assumed his Napoleonic stance. "That's up to you. You name the place, you name the time and you name the weapons."

  Ian put his arm around Priscilla's shoulder and felt her tremble. From the side of his mouth he whispered, "Don't worry, darling. I can handle this." Was he crazy? He had only one chance to defeat Milo and that one chance was a slim one.

  Milo roared, "Speak up you lily-livered sidewinder; name the place, the time and the weapons."

  Ian asked, "And will you agree to the place, the time and the weapons that I choose?"

  Milo's gaze lost some of its fierceness. "Damn right, you have my word and I ain't no lyin', low-down snake-in-the-grass like you. My word is my bond."

  The buzz of voices from behind the pews grew louder. Pete the salon keeper called over the quiet hum, "I'm takin' bets if anybody's interested."

  Someone from the back hissed loudly, "What are the odds?"

  Once more Milo's countenance wore that fierce scowl. "Are you too scared to fight me?"

  Ian answered, "No." That was a lie. He was more scared than he'd ever been in his life before. He drew a deep breath. "I name here as the place, I name now as the time and I name words as the weapons."

  Milo's expression moved from fierce to downright mystified. "What the hell are you trying to pull? Words ain't weapons."

  Ian's heart was pounding but he maintained a calm outer demeanor. "Oh, but they are. Haven't you ever heard that the pen is mightier than the sword?" Ian didn't like exposing and playing on another man's weakness but damn it, he had to defend himself. "Or maybe you read it somewhere?"

  Milo turned pale beneath his scruffy beard but he refused to retreat an inch. "Maybe I did." His look dared Ian to dispute his lie.

  "Then you do admit that words are powerful?"

  As Milo frowned, obviously trying to sort through the many implications and possible consequences of this strange challenge, a short middle-aged man near the back of the sanctuary peered over the top of a pew and called out, "Mr. Mayor, you did give your word."

  A tall thin woman near the front of the group stuck her head around a post. "You said that you'd fight Mr. Alwin on his terms."

  A chorus of affirmation rose from the crowd.

  Ian took advantage of Milo's sudden bewilderment. He pulled his resignation from the inside pocket of his velvet cuffed cut away coat, gave Priscilla a last quick hug and walked up the aisle toward his challenger.

  Priscilla grabbed the train of her dress and hurried after him. She didn't stop until she was standing by his side. Rawhide followed Priscilla up the aisle and stood behind her.

  Their daring actions encouraged some of the other more curious bystanders to move from behind posts and from under pews to crowd into the aisle. Others stood and watched as Milo stared at the paper Ian held toward him. Ian shook the paper. "Here, Your Honor, this is for you."

  "What the hell is this?" Milo reluctantly took the folded paper, opened it and stared down at fine cursive written there. "Why are you giving this to me?"

  Ian was taking an unfair advantage and he knew it but at this moment an unfair advantage was the only advantage he had. He spoke loudly enough for everyone in the sanctuary to hear. "Why don't you read it and see?"

  Milo clutched the paper in his hand and swore under his breath before saying, "I'll have a look at it later."

  Ian insisted, "It's imperative that you look at it now." He had found the one challenge that Milo Stanton could not master, the challenge of reading and comprehending the written word.

  Milo struck the paper with his open hand. "This ain't important now."

  Ian asked, "How do you know? You haven't read it yet."

  Milo breathed, "Damn you," before he narrowed his eyes and began to study the paper carefully.

  As he frowned and struggled to decipher the words written there, Nellie Carter came to stand behind him and look over h
is shoulder. After a moment she shifted her gaze from the paper to Ian. "You would do this to Mr. Stanton after all he has done for you?"

  Milo turned to stare at Nellie and in a whisper asked, "Do what?"

  Nellie blushed under his steady gaze. "This is Mr. Alwin's resignation."

  Milo blinked. "It is?"

  Nellie nodded. "Yes it is. Didn't you read it?"

  As the two conversed in low tones the crowd inched nearer and nearer until they had formed a tight circle around the unlikely foursome.

  Milo folded the resignation and slipped it into his shirt pocket. The mayor of Cactus Gulch was illiterate but he wasn't stupid. "Well now since you've gone and resigned that does make a difference." He scratched the side of his head. "Give me a minute to think on this."

  The mayor had a choice. He could admit to his constituents that he couldn't read or he could find a reason to forgive Ian. Ian waited anxiously to see which it would be.

  Nellie Carter paved the way for Milo to retreat gracefully when she said, "Since you have resigned, Mr. Alwin," pausing, she turned to Milo. "That was Mr. Alwin's resignation, wasn't it, Mr. Mayor?"

  She had given Milo Stanton the perfect opportunity to extricate himself from an embarrassing situation with dignity and with both his hidebound pride and his guilty secret still intact. Milo Stanton was no fool. He took it. "It sure is." He told Ian, "If you ain't my employee what you do ain't none of my concern."

  Reverend Hogan popped from behind his podium. "Can we forget this foolishness and get on with the festivities?"

  Nellie Carter took Milo's arm. "Of course we can. Will you be my escort, Mr. Stanton?"

  With a sigh of relief Rawhide stepped around Priscilla and approached Milo. "Mr. Mayor, now that everything is settled and back to normal again, maybe we can get back to my proposals."

  "Not now, Rawhide, this here is a celebration." Milo smiled down at Nellie as he offered her his arm. "I'd be pleased to be your dinner escort."

  Rawhide hung on tenaciously as he followed Milo and Nellie toward the dining hall. "I thought perhaps we could vote on them at the next city council meeting."

  Milo's reply was lost in the clamor of happy voices. There were a few things that the citizens of Cactus Gulch enjoyed more than they enjoyed a good fight. One of those things was a good meal and since this fight seemed to have become no more than a vague and meaningless argument, they took off after Milo, Nellie and Rawhide in a rush to get to the dining hall.

  As Ian watched men, women and children hastily push and shove their way to the dining hall, he thought that the mayor of Cactus Gulch had his work cut out for him. Looking around he realized that he and Priscilla were the only two people left in the sanctuary. Smiling down at his bride he asked tenderly, "Would you like to go to dinner?"

  Priscilla blushed beautifully. "I would like to go someplace where we can be alone."

  Ian tucked her hand through his arm. "The cottage on Pine Street awaits us." His heart beat high with happiness as they walked up the aisle, out of the sanctuary and into the bright light of a brisk Thanksgiving Day.

  The End