“I don’t want any if your damn money,” Will answered. “I don’t need a lot, just my horse, gun, and food. Also, a good pardner to watch my back. You haven’t asked me yet, so I’ll introduce you to my ridin’ pard now, Jonas Peterson. Jonas, as I’m certain you’ve figured out, this is my father, Silas Kirkpatrick.”
“I’m honored to meet you, Mr. Kirkpatrick, sir,” Jonas said.
“Don’t try’n fool me, boy,” Silas said. “You’ve been here for the entire conversation. I do have to thank you for being so gracious during this unpleasant scene.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
Silas pulled the watch from his vest pocket, and checked the time.
“I’m sorry to say I was detained at the bank by a client, so we won’t have time for another drink before dinner. William, you and your friend haven’t dressed yet.”
“We’ve cleaned up as best we can, Father. Rangers don’t exactly carry fancy duds around in their saddlebags. Mother is already aware that these are the best we’ve got.”
“Well, then I guess they’ll have to do, but only because I don’t want to upset Susan,” Silas answered. “Otherwise, I’d throw you both out on your rears. You remind me of the parable about the wedding guests who showed up not properly dressed for the feast. This is the first and last time you’ll ever eat in this house without being correctly attired. Let’s go into the dining room for our meal.”
9
Will’s mother and sister were already seated at the elaborately carved walnut dining table, one on each side. His father kissed them both on the cheek, then sat at the head of the table. Jerry sat next to his mother, Bert his sister. That left Will and Jonas the two opposite chairs at the lower end of the table, which was covered with a dazzlingly white linen tablecloth. It was set with fine bone china, decorated in a delicate pink floral pattern, sterling silver flatware, and etched crystal glasses.
“I know as the oldest, your place was next to your mother, William,” Silas said, “However, you forfeited that when you left home.”
“It doesn’t matter where I sit,” Will answered. “You can just treat me as a guest, one who you aren’t necessarily happy to have here, but etiquette dictates must be invited, and treated decently.”
He and Jonas removed their hats and sat down.
“Please, might we have no unpleasantries, at least during our meal?” Claudette said.
“Thank you, Mother,” Susan said. “I was about to make the same request.”
Claudette picked up a small silver bell from alongside her salad plate and tinkled it. Peggy came through the kitchen door.
“Are you ready to begin dinner, Mrs. Kirkpatrick?” she asked.
“Yes, Peggy. You may begin to serve.”
“Very good, ma’am.”
Peggy went back into the kitchen, and returned a moment later with a tureen of vegetable soup. She filled everyone’s bowls.
“We never eat before saying Grace,” Silas said. “Susan, since this will be one of your last nights home before your wedding, would you kindly lead us in the prayer?”
“Of course, Father,” she answered. “Everyone, please bow your heads.”
Once everyone’s heads were bowed, and hands folded in prayer, she gave the blessing.
“We thank Thee, O Lord Almighty God, for the health of our family, and for the bountiful food You provide, especially that of which we are about to partake. We also thank You for the safe return of our brother and son, William, and for the company of his guest, Jonas. We humbly ask You to bless this table, this family, and to keep us safe, especially William and Jonas in their careers as peace officers. We offer Thee thanks, Lord, for all Your blessings. Amen.”
“Amen.”
“We may now begin to dine,” Claudette said.
“Gerard, would you pass me the butter?” Bert asked, as he took a slice of bread from a plate, then passed the plate to Susan.
****
The meal ran for seven courses and over two hours. It was after nine o’clock when it finally concluded.
“Susan and I are going into the parlor to finish the needlepoint sampler we’ve been working on, while you men go into the library for your cigars and after-dinner drinks,” Claudette said. “Just don’t linger too long over them. Tomorrow will be a busy day for all of us, with the wedding on Saturday.”
“Come with us, William, Jonas,” Silas ordered. He led the other men back to the library.
“George at the tobacco shop just received a new shipment of expensive cigars, and he set several aside for me,” he said, once they were back in the room and the door closed. “They are hand-rolled, with the wrapper being broad-leafed tobacco grown in the Connecticut River Valley of New England.” He picked up a rosewood humidor from his desk and opened it.
“Please, take one,” he said.
Bert and Jerry each chose a cigar. Will shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Father, but I still haven’t taken up smoking. You know I’ve never enjoyed it.”
“Another way you’re different from your brothers and me,” Silas said. “Mr. Peterson?”
“I haven’t smoked much either, but I’ll give one a try. Thank you,” Jonas said. He took a cigar from the box, as did Silas.
“Before we light up, I’ll pour us all a cognac,” Silas said. “I have several bottles of Remy Martin VSOP, which is shipped specially for me all the way from France. William, I know you won’t refuse that. You do enjoy a fine liquor.”
“You’re right, Father, and that’s one thing I still miss about home. You certainly can’t get a good brandy or scotch in any frontier saloon. It’s almost always cheap rotgut.”
“Crudely put; however, I’m certain you’re correct in your assessment,” Silas answered. “Just a moment, while I open the bottle and fill our glasses.”
Silas removed a full bottle of Remy Martin from a cabinet, uncorked it, and poured generous amounts of it into five snifters.
“Mr. Peterson, I doubt you’ve ever experienced a fine cognac such as this before,” he said, as he handed Jonas one of the glasses. “You hold the glass with the bottom in the palm of your hand, and gently swirl the contents. The warmth of your hand and the swirling releases the aroma of the liquor, and allows the flavors to fully emerge. To properly enjoy it, you should take a sniff before you take your first sip. It will be a true delight to your palate, I assure you.”
“What my father is tryin’ to tell you, Jonas, is you don’t just gulp this stuff down in one quick swallow,” Will said. “You drink it slowly, letting it sit on your tongue. Drinking it slowly allows you to truly appreciate it.”
“You haven’t lost your entire sense of social graces after all, William,” his father said. “I’m glad to see you still have some of the family’s good taste.”
“It’s not because I haven’t tried,” Will answered, smiling.
“That’s not at all humorous,” his father answered.
“Coming from my brother, I thought it was,” Bert mumbled. “Then again, perhaps not,” he said, any thought of disagreeing with his father withering under Silas’s glare.
****
After two cognacs each, Will decided he’d had enough for one night.
“Father, I know you expect the entire family to be in bed by eleven o’clock,” he said. “However, I’m gonna take Jonas into town and see if I can round up some of my old friends for a couple of drinks.”
“I should have known,” his father answered. “You’re not even home a day and you’re ready to run off and find the rowdy bunch you ran with. That riff-raff is what started you on the road to perdition.”
“I’d hardly call joining the Texas Rangers going to Hell,” Will answered. “Listen, Father, I came home only because you didn’t leave me any choice…my captain made that very clear. That, and I realized I didn’t want to hurt Susan. She’s the only one who understood why I had to get out of this house, this town. I’m only going to be here for the wedding, then I’ll be gone.
For Susan’s sake, can we at least try to be civil while I’m here?”
Silas hesitated before replying. “I’ll do my best. However, I am still deeply angry over your abandoning everything I have built for my children. You could have had wealth, power, and social standing, William. You still can, if you’ll apologize, resign from the Rangers, and come back home.”
“You still don’t understand, and you never will. I don’t want any of those things that are so important to you, Father. I have to do what I want to do, what I enjoy. I love being a lawman, love the freedom of being on horseback, riding through the badlands, depending on no one but myself, my horse, and my pardners.”
“Partners. You’re even speaking like a common range rider.”
“Pardners. Yes, I am. I don’t have to act like some high-falutin’ dude, either. And you’ll still have Jerry, Bert, and Susan to carry on your legacy.”
“Gerard and Bertram. And just to keep the record clear, the only reason I insisted you come home for the wedding was because your sister and mother hounded me until I gave in. Bringing you back was their idea. So was allowing you to sleep in your old room. Had it been up to me, you would have stayed at the hotel, or Widow Jackson’s boarding house.”
“Where I would have been perfectly happy,” Will answered. He glanced at the mantel clock. “I don’t want to keep you past your bedtime. Perhaps me’n Jonas will see you at breakfast, but I doubt it. I intend to sleep in, then we’re going to Shalem’s to get haircuts, shaves and baths. We probably won’t be home until just before dinnertime.”
“Suit yourself. Just don’t come running back to me when you get tired of being broke and hungry. The door will be closed.”
“You made that plain the day I left home, Father. C’mon, Jonas, let’s get outta here.”
****
“Now I really understand why you left home,” Jonas said, as he and Will rode into town. “Boy howdy, I’d suffocate in that damn house. No amount of money would make livin’ here worthwhile. No offense meant.”
“None taken. I was bein’ smothered here,” Will answered. “Everythin’ we kids did had to be just perfect, to make certain it would be ‘proper’ in the circles my mother and father associate with.”
“What’re your folks’ backgrounds, if you don’t mind my askin’?”
“Not at all. My father is one of a long line of financiers from back East. The family history claims that one of his ancestors even helped fund troops for the American Revolution. My grandfather moved to Texas, and founded the First National Bank in Austin. When he passed away, my father took his inheritance and started his own bank, and, of course, town. I will give him this much. My father’s an absolute genius when it comes to makin’ money.”
“That’s pretty obvious. What about your mother?”
“She was a high society ingénue, a French lady from New Orleans. My father met her when he was down there on a trip. Her family was old New Orleans stock, but they’d pretty much gone busted. They were livin’ in a run-down, termite and rat infested mansion, tryin’ to act as if they still had power and influence. My father had money, my mother’s family needed it, so it was a perfect match. And they do love each other, although they don’t often show it.”
“Of course, the money helps.”
“For them, yeah. They both worship it. That, and status, particularly for my mother. She’s never forgotten her family was once the crème de la crème of New Orleans society. Damn it, there I go. Sometimes I still sound like ’em. Anyway, enough about my family. There’s the saloon, just ahead. I’m gonna have me a few whiskeys and try to forget about my family for the rest of the night. C’mon, Pete.”
He put his paint into a trot. A moment later, he and Jonas reined their horses up in front of the Kirkpatrick Saloon. They dismounted, looped their reins over the rail, then climbed the stairs and pushed open the batwing doors. The bartender shouted a greeting as soon as they stepped inside.
“Will! I’d heard you were back in town, you son of a gun. ’Bout time you came ’round. Who’s your friend?”
By the time Will and Jonas reached the bar, he’d already pulled a bottle of Old Granddad from the back bar shelf, uncorked it, and placed the bottle and two glasses on the mahogany.
“I had to go by the house and see the family first, Gordon,” Will answered.
“I can imagine how that went,” the bartender answered.
“Yup. Gordon, this here’s Jonas Peterson. He’s just signed on with the Rangers. He’s my new ridin’ pard. Jonas, meet Gordon Simon. He owns this place. He doesn’t water down his drinks…too much, and his games are honest…sort of.”
“Gee, thanks a lot, Will,” Simon said, grinning.
“You forgot to mention he’s got the prettiest gals in the whole of Texas workin’ here,” a buxom raven-haired woman, who wore a low cut red silk gown, added. “Welcome home, Will.”
“Georgia, you get back to peddlin’ drinks to the customers,” Simon ordered.
“Howdy, Jonas. Sorry about that little interruption. Glad to see someone’s gonna ride herd on ol’ Will.”
“Howdy,” Jonas answered. “It’s more like the other way around. Will’s gonna be ridin’ herd on me.”
“Then you’re both in trouble. Pour yourselves a drink, fellers. The first one’s on the house.”
“Why thanks, Gordon,” Will said. “Jonas, you’re seein’ history bein’ made tonight. This old skinflint never buys anyone a drink.”
“G’wan with you, Will.” Simon snapped a bar towel at Will’s chest. “I see another customer signalin’. We’ll palaver a bit later.”
“Sure enough,” Will answered. He picked up the bottle, filled both glasses, and handed one to Jonas.
“To Kirkpatrick,” he said. “May we survive the visit, and get the hell out of this town as fast as we can.”
He touched his glass to Jonas’s, downed the contents in one gulp, and poured himself another drink.
****
An hour later, the bottle was nearly emptied. Georgia had joined Will and Jonas at the table where they’d moved. She commiserated with Will while he rehashed, yet again, his family turning against him when he joined the Rangers.
“Will, honey,” she said. “I know Susan’s the only one who realized why you had to get out of this town, and out of your ma and pa’s grasps. But you’ve done everythin’ you can to try and mend fences. It’s up to your kinfolk to decide whether or not to realize you have the right to live the way you choose, and accept it. But you know you’ve always been able to turn to your sweet Georgia peach for comfort whenever you’re feelin’ low. Why don’t we go up to my room and I’ll cheer you up? It’s always worked before.”
“Uh-uh.” Will shook his head. “Not tonight. I’m purely tempted, but me’n Jonas had better get on home.”
“Are you certain?” Georgia ran a hand over his chest, then kissed him on the cheek.
Two cowboys were standing at the bar, working on whiskeys. One of them came over to the table and glared at Will.
“Kirkpatrick, you get away from Georgia,” he warned, scowling. “You might think you’ve got a claim on her, but you lost that the day you left town. She’s my gal, now.”
“We were just talkin’, is all, Taggart,” Will said.
“It sure looked like more’n just talk to me. You want a woman, get that red-haired Irish gal your pa keeps around.”
“He can’t,” Taggart’s partner said, with a wicked chuckle. “His pa keeps that little red-headed spitfire all for himself. Mebbe he could settle for the colored woman. His brothers probably have.”
Will clenched his fists and jumped up. He started for the two men. Jonas put a restraining hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t, Will,” he urged. “They ain’t worth it. Think of your sister. You don’t want to ruin her weddin’ day by bein’ in jail.” He pushed Will back into his chair.
“Eli Taggart, I ain’t your gal. Nobody else’s, neither,” Georgia said, after Wil
l started to get back up, only to be shoved back down by Jonas again. “No man has a claim on me. That goes for you and your pal Jeb over there, too. You hear me, Jeb Bryant?”
“I figure different.” Bryant downed the last of his glass and came over to stand next to Taggart. “Eli’s spent enough buyin’ you pretty little gee-gaws he’s got the right to say you’re his gal, even though you sure don’t act like it most times.”
“Well, you’re both wrong,” Georgia snapped. “Will, honey, like your friend says, these two ain’t worth it. Just promise you’ll stop by before you leave town.”
“I wouldn’t think of leavin’ without sayin’ good-bye,” Will answered. “I reckon it’s high time we called it a night. But I ain’t done yet with you two boys. No one can say things like that about my father and get away with it. C’mon, Jonas.”
When Will stood up, Taggart drove a hard right fist into his back, directly over his left kidney. Will arched with the pain, and fell to the sawdust covered floor, twisting to land on his back. Taggart drove at him, but Will recovered in time to drive both of his boots into Taggart’s belly. The impact doubled him over, and sent him staggering back. Will scrambled to his feet and landed a left to the point of Taggart’s chin. Bryant grabbed Will by the shoulder, spun him around, and smashed a fist into his jaw.
“Hey, two against one ain’t fair,” Jonas said, and jumped into the fray. He shot a quick left to the back of Bryant’s neck, sending him stumbling forward. He hauled up against a post, then turned to face Jonas, who sent two quick blows into Bryant’s gut. Bryant jackknifed, then slammed his head into the pit of Jonas’s stomach, wrapped his arms around Jonas’s waist, and smashed him into the wall.
The other patrons in the saloon stayed out of the fight, instead preferring to urge the combatants on, yelling for one side or the other to prevail, some placing bets on the outcome. The four men were trading blows back and forth, now.
Will had blood running from a cut under his left eye, and a lump rising on the right side of his jaw. Jonas’s right eye was swollen and closed from a punch which Bryant had landed, and blood flowed freely from his nose. However, gradually, they were getting the better of their opponents. Will had flattened Taggart’s nose with a vicious right, staggering him back, howling with the pain.
Blood Ties: A Texas Ranger Will Kirkpatrick Novel Page 11