by Phil Dunlap
“So, the two of you left your cabin and started walkin’? Did you have an idea where you were headed and how far it might be?”
“No, sir. We just put one foot in front of the other and let the good Lord guide us. Reckon he did, too. After all, we’re here and we’re both alive.”
“You’ve been through a lot of hardship, Rachael. You were lucky to find this ranch. How’d you come on it?” Cotton asked.
“We was headed for Apache Springs. We took a wrong turn and ended up on the road where we met Emily. She was so kind to let us stay and give us food. I have to say, I love it here.” Rachael looked with a sigh. “And, I . . .”
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like, child,” Emily interrupted.
“Thank you, ma’am. I’d like that. But I suppose I’d better ask Johnny.”
“Unfortunately he seems to have gotten off somewhere,” Cotton said.
“He left? Without me?”
“I don’t imagine he’ll be gone long. Appears he hitched a ride into town with one of Emily’s cowboys. I’m sure he’ll be back this afternoon.”
“H-he went into town? Oh, my god! If he runs into the man he’s aimin’ to kill, he may not come back at all. He could be dead in the street.” Rachael burst into tears.
“He’s aimin’ to kill someone? Who?” Cotton asked, his expression turning dark with surprise. “Damn!”
“He’s after the man who killed all his friends. Murdered them!”
“Where’d this murder take place?”
“I-I, uh . . .”
“Tell me, girl! Now!”
Emily grabbed Rachael and held her close. She glared at Cotton. “You’re scaring her. Don’t yell!”
“But if I’m goin’ to save a life, I need to know whose life it is. And that boy, I don’t need to have him shot down in my town, either.”
Rachael continued to sob uncontrollably as Emily patted her and tried to calm her down. Emily motioned for Cotton to go outside. She mouthed the words to wait and she’d get what he needed. He realized she was probably right. He had no experience with teenaged girls and he guessed maybe yelling wasn’t the best way to get answers. He sheepishly went out on the porch and took a seat on the first step to wait for a calmer approach to prevail.
Chapter 45
As soon as the buckboard pulled up to the rear of the hardware store in order for them to load their supplies from the dock, Teddy wasted no time jumping down from the spring seat to climb the three steps to the dock. He stopped before entering the back door to look around at Johnny, and was surprised to find an empty seat where the boy had been only seconds ago. He shrugged his shoulders and went inside to tell the owner he was ready to load the Wagner order.
“G’afternoon, Mr. Hargreaves. It’s Teddy Olander, and I’m here to pick up some fencing for the Wagner ranch.”
“Ahh, yes, young man. Pretty late in the day for ridin’ all the way back to the Wagner place, ain’t it?”
“Aww, heck, I’ve done it plenty of times.”
“Well, as you wish. I have three rolls of heavy-duty fencing on the loading dock. I believe the lady said she wanted a small barrel of ten-penny nails, too. That sound right?”
“Yes, sir, exactly right. I brought someone to help load up, but he seems to have disappeared on me.”
“That’s all right, I’ll give you a hand soon as I tally up some things for Mrs. Dunwoody.” Hargreaves chuckled. “Be just a minute.”
“I’ll just be out back, sir.” But Teddy was puzzled by Johnny’s strange disappearance. His curiosity was too much for him, and he wandered down the alley and out to the main street.
* * *
Johnny had no idea where to even start looking for Carp Varner. If he was in town, the most likely place to start would be the saloon. Carp seemed to spend most of his time leaning on the bar, sucking up whiskey, beer, or whatever he could find that was liquid and made him feel tough. Johnny walked around the side of the hardware store and found himself only about five buildings from what he figured to be a saloon. It was a fancy place with a large, painted sign out front, covered in gold leaf and lots of swirly letters. While the fancy lettering was difficult to decipher, he thought it spelled out Melody’s Golden Palace of Pleasure. The thought struck him that, considering the name, the establishment might cater to those seeking female companionship—for a price, of course.
He hadn’t said a word to Teddy about his real reason for coming to town with him, and that was why as soon as the buckboard came to a halt, he hopped off and tore around the building. Of course, if for some reason he didn’t return before Teddy found it necessary to get back to the ranch, he would likely be stranded in a strange town. This was beginning to look more and more like a bad idea. As he stood staring at the saloon, he heard a voice behind him.
“You lost, son?”
Johnny spun around, his hand inadvertently going for the handle of his six-shooter. That’s when he came face- to-face with a rough-looking man with a serious look on his face, wearing a badge and a Remington .44.
“Uh, no, I-I’m just looking for someone.”
“Well, I know about everybody in Apache Springs. Perhaps I can point you in the right direction. Name’s Memphis Jack Stump. I’m the deputy sheriff here. Who is this person?”
Johnny swallowed hard. He was at a loss for words. Just at that moment, Teddy Olander came around the side of the hardware store and, seeing Johnny talking to the deputy, called out.
“Hey, Johnny, there you are! This wire isn’t goin’ to load itself. Get your scrawny ass over here and help out!”
“Ahh, so you must work out at the Wagner place, too?” Jack asked.
“Uh, yessir. And, er, I better go help Teddy.”
“Sure. Next time you’re in town maybe I can help you find who you’re lookin’ for.” Jack touched the brim of his hat and strolled on along the boardwalk. The two young cowboys disappeared down an alley.
* * *
Carp Varner was beginning to get anxious. He hadn’t heard a word from the sheriff on a decision about the gunsmith shop, even though he was pretty sure the man claiming to be Burnside’s nephew had arrived on schedule. He’d never been good at biding his time, and this occasion was no exception. He liked to hurry things along. He was running an oiled rag over his Smith & Wesson, trying to conjure up a plan wherein Burnside’s nephew might have an accident, a fatal accident. As his twisted mind wrangled with several possible scenarios, the one that appealed to him most was to set fire to the hotel—burn the damned place down around that scamp’s ears. An evil, self-satisfied grin came over his face.
He knew his plans would have to wait, however, when he heard the door open and in strode Mayor Plume. Varner laid the six-shooter on the workbench and moved to greet the town’s highest-ranking official.
“Good day to you, Mr. Mayor. What can I do for you?”
“Been meaning to stop by and congratulate you more fully for your superb handling of the attempt on the bank.”
“It wasn’t anything that most folks hereabouts wouldn’t have done.”
“Quite the contrary. It was a feat of masterful timing, something I might add is sorely lacking in our fair community. In fact, the whole affair has me thinking. You know there’s an election for sheriff comin’ up in just a couple days. It seems to me that you might be just the right fellow to give the folks a real choice, for a change.”
“Oh, well, that’s something I hadn’t ever considered. Sheriff, hmm? I’ll think on it. Thank you for the vote of confidence, Mr. Mayor.”
“Now I figure if you’d agree to throw your hat in the ring, a gesture like that might just shake things up real proper,” Plume said. The mayor gave Varner a wry smile and a nod. He thrust out his hand and Varner shook it. The mayor spun around and strutted through the door with a satisfied smile. Varner watched as he went toward his
office, stopping briefly at every window along the street. He was greeting each passerby like the true politician he was.
Varner stood, pensively watching the antics of the pompous mayor all the way until he disappeared back inside the building that housed his and his clerk’s offices. Varner sat at his workbench to ponder this newest twist to any future he might be considering in Apache Springs.
I wonder how Plume might feel if he knew what happened the last time I ran for an elected office. He snorted as he thought back to the day when he left Whiskey Crossing nothing more than a pile of blackened charcoal and twisted nails; his ruminations brought renewed confidence that after his handling of the robbery he might, indeed, hold more sway over this town than he’d thought. But he knew exactly what the mayor was driving at.
I am impressed by your idea, you pompous fool. And your misguided attempt to get a handle on gaining more control of Apache Springs is an interesting proposition. I believe I will run for mayor.
Chapter 46
How come you left me to do all the work myself? I thought you offered to come along to help?” Teddy’s words carried the sting of disappointment with them. He was noticeably perturbed by Johnny’s hasty withdrawal.
“I’m sorry, but I had something that needed doin’. Won’t happen again.”
“Darn tootin’ it won’t, because I’ll be comin’ alone the next time.” Teddy looked straight ahead as he angrily slapped the reins on the horse’s rump to hurry her along.
“I said I was sorry.”
“Yeah, well what’s more important than doin’ what you say you’re goin’ to do?”
“Oh, I fully intend to do what I’ve said. Count on it.” Johnny glowered straight ahead as the buckboard pitched and rolled with the added weight of three rolls of heavy fencing wire.
“And just what would that be?” Teddy’s response to Johnny’s elusive answer was snappish.
“I’m goin’ to even the score with a snivelin’, belly-crawlin’ snake. I’m goin’ to put him in the ground sure as I’m sittin’ here. And that’s somethin’ you can count on.”
Teddy chose to discontinue the conversation at that point. He figured this new hand wasn’t quite right in the head. He went back to making certain they got back to the ranch in one piece, even if a couple times in the waning sunlight that seemed unlikely, as a result of one or another of the wheels dropping precipitously into ruts that drifted too close to the edge of the often washed-out road and its attendant steep drop-offs.
* * *
“I’d better go into town and see if I can find this wayward lad, Emily. I’ll bring him back and you can figure a way to deal with him, just as soon as I get some answers about this supposed killin’.”
Emily stood with arms crossed to keep away the chill. She had wrapped a crocheted shawl around her shoulders, but the breeze still carried with it a nippy warning of things to come.
“If you don’t get back tonight, I’ll assume you have him safe and sound.”
“Let’s hope it’s that easy.”
As he reined the mare around, there came the distinctive sound of the buckboard straining under a load. Down at the end of the lane, Teddy jumped off and began to lead the horse uphill. Johnny, too, had gotten out to lighten the load. The horse was lathered and wheezing. As they got closer, Cotton stepped down from his saddle and retied the reins to the rail. He walked out to help the boys unload the wire.
“You fellows need a hand?” Cotton said.
“Howdy, Sheriff. Yessir, it’d be nice to have a pair of reliable hands to help with the unloading,” Teddy said, with a clearly sarcastic tone to his voice. Johnny said nothing. He was staring wide-eyed at Cotton. The fearful look did not go unnoticed.
“Reckon I’m the only one that don’t have other duties. I’ll grab a pair of gloves and be right back.” Cotton wandered off toward the bunkhouse. He came back in seconds with a pair of heavy leather gloves suitable for handling rolls of barbwire that could slice a man’s hands to shreds if mishandled. Johnny continued to keep a close eye on the lawman.
Cotton and the two boys got the job done quickly, with the wire stored beside the barn. It would have to wait for the next day to be used to build onto the corral. When they’d finished, Emily called them to come in for supper, but insisted they not forget to wash up first. Cotton was amused at the expression on Johnny’s face. It appeared the boy was none too fond of being mothered. Teddy, on the other hand, loved being thought of as a part of the ranch family.
When all were seated, Emily set bowls of potatoes, beans, carrots, and canned tomatoes out for everyone to take what he wanted. She then came around with a platter of sizzling meat, rare and juicy, and smelling like heaven. Cotton rose to fetch the coffeepot, when suddenly Rachael jumped up and said, “I’ll get it, sir. Sorry I forgot my manners.”
Cotton thanked her, sat back, and cut into a hunk of steak. He chewed extra slowly in order to decide the best way to get the conversation going in the direction he desired. Emily had given him a talking to about rushing into the subject of killings and such. She had sensed the deep conviction both of these young people held of delivering justice to one who deserved it in the strictest terms. And Cotton had firsthand knowledge of dispensing justice. He had only to look back on his own recent past to conjure up an example.
“Emily tells me you’re from Texas, Johnny. What part?”
Johnny made sure to swallow before speaking, just like he’d been taught.
“When my pa and me got to a little spit of a town, he said it looked a fair to middlin’ place to settle, for a while, at least. It was called Whiskey Crossing, mostly ’cause it wasn’t much more than a saloon, a general store, and a livery. The livery had a blacksmith, though.”
“Sounds like most towns hereabouts that started from dust and cactus, then grew to lots more dust and cactus. Just added a few sticks.”
That made Johnny crack the least bit of a smile, which spread to Rachael.
“How long did you live in Whiskey Crossing?”
“Oh, about four years, I reckon. On the way through Texas, my ma caught the fever and died. It wasn’t long after we arrived my pa got bit by a rattler. He died before I could get him help. The townsfolk put up with me and made me feel welcome. So I stayed, since I really didn’t have nowhere else to go.”
“What did you do there?”
“I swept out the saloon every night. Then I helped at the livery, muckin’ stalls an’ such. Even helped stock shelves and carry in boxes when they was delivered at the general store.”
“And you got paid to do all this?”
“In a manner of speakin’, yep. They fed me three meals a day and let me sleep in the back room of the saloon.”
“Was there a school?”
“Uh, no, there weren’t no schoolhouse. But the whore, er, sorry, the lady at the saloon could read and write some, and she took the time to teach me to cipher and make my letters.”
“So, what was it that made you decide to leave? It doesn’t sound like a bad place to live.”
“No, sir, it wasn’t. Fact is, I felt like I belonged. Those folks was my family.”
“But you left.”
“Not ’cause I was of a mind to. There weren’t nothin’ left after that bastard burned the whole town to the ground. Killed every livin’ thing. All gone in a horrific blaze. An inferno!”
“That’s terrible! How did you escape?”
“I was down the hill dumpin’ a load of manure from the livery when I heard the shouts and the shootin’ and the screams and cryin’. I crawled back to the top of the hill and saw it all, but that lowdown snake didn’t see me.”
“Why would somebody do such a terrible thing, Johnny?”
“I figured it was because he lost the election for mayor and folks laughed at him. He was evil when he came to town, though. Didn’t just up and get that way ove
rnight. Why, he shot four men over several weeks, most for back-talkin’ him. Worst man I ever did see.”
“Who is this man? Is he the one you’re lookin’ for?”
“How’d you know I was lookin’ for someone?”
“I-I reckon I, er, let it slip, Johnny.” Rachael spoke up. “I’m sorry.”
Johnny looked into Rachael’s eyes, eyes that were pleading for his understanding.
“That’s okay, Rachael. It don’t matter. I’m still goin’ to get him.”
“You haven’t told me who this man is, Johnny,” Cotton insisted.
“Name’s Carp Varner. That’s who. And I figure he’s in Apache Springs.”
“Carp Varner!” Cotton’s mouth dropped at the news. He’d thought all along that there was something rotten about Varner, and now it appeared he was right.
“What do you figure to do, Cotton?” Emily asked, her face shadowed with fear.
“First thing in the mornin’, Johnny and I are goin’ into town.”
“You arrestin’ me, Sheriff?” Johnny said.
“Not exactly.”
Chapter 47
Early the next morning, Cotton sauntered into the dining room. All of Emily’s ranch hands were already there, each eagerly chowing down on the day’s fare. They paid him no mind, having become comfortable with him showing up at unexpected times. He looked around to see Emily coming from the kitchen with a bowl of freshly baked biscuits. She smiled at him. He noticed Rachael sitting next to an empty chair, looking nervous.
“Good morning, Rachael. Where’s Johnny?” he asked as he took a seat and unfolded his napkin.
“I, uh, I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him this morning.”
Cotton was clearly concerned about the young man’s absence, especially after his confessing the previous evening to a deep desire to seek out and kill Carp Varner. The sheriff placed his napkin on his plate and walked out of the room. He went to the porch and looked around. Seeing no signs of the boy, he jogged across the yard to the bunkhouse. Throwing the door open, he wasn’t surprised at what he found. Or didn’t find. Johnny’s bunk was empty. His gun belt and six-shooter were also missing. Peeking inside the corral, he saw that the mare the two young people had ridden in on was gone, along with the saddle. He gathered up his own horse and then ran back to the house. He called inside to tell Emily he had to leave and that he’d be back later. He was just clearing the front gate when she stepped out onto the porch with a look of concern.