The Adventures of Dixie Dandelion

by R. H. Burkett

  Rebecca Sue and Mary Lou were solid, corn-fed girls with strawberry curls and freckled faces. Looked so much alike I couldn’t tell them apart except Rebecca Sue had a crooked front tooth.

  Sassy Annie lounged, wrapped in a peacock-green gown with white feathers around the collar and cuffs. So lively and funny, she made me laugh until my face muscles hurt. Deborah Ann twittered at Sassy’s stories like a tiny jenny wren song bird.

  Then, of course, there was Fancy.

  “Well, what cha’ think about my girls?” Peg asked when they’d gone up stairs.

  “Like them. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were your own daughters.”

  I was surprised to see a sad smile slide across her face. “That’s how I think of them. Never could have young’uns of my own. They filled the void.” She snorted. “Funny how life works. I moved to Six Shooter to get away from my righteous, judgmental family only to end up with a brood of girls no one else wanted.”

  Her faded palomino hair fell into her face. She brushed it back with a ring-jeweled hand. “Cinnamon hails from Cajun country. Half Creole. That little French accent of hers drives the men wild. She showed up at my door a starved, whipped puppy. Didn’t have the heart to turn her away. Then, just like stray kittens, one-by-one the rest came along.

  “Fancy was only ten when her mama came with her in tow. Meg Brown didn’t want to have nothin’ to do with men. Been mistreated and beat-up by too many I suspected, so I hired her as a cook. It was only natural to take Fancy into the business when her mama died. She cooked for me until she was of age then, despite my objections, she became a dove.” A heavy sigh.

  “God blessed Fancy with the looks of an angel and a heart bigger than Texas. But bless her, she’s simple-minded as a goose. Can’t separate business from emotion. Falls in love with every client what smiles at her. Someday one of them will do her wrong. All of us look after her. In a way, she’s the innocence and goodness that lies buried in all of us.”

  Speechless, I drank the rest of my coffee and got up to leave even though it was the last thing I wanted to do.

  “You’re easy to talk to,” Peg said and walked me to the parlor.

  Eyes wide, I gawked at the room. Bright, cheery, with thick rugs, soft couches and chairs, even a piano. Made Maude’s place look like a cave. Fancy sat at the piano bench running her fingers across the keyboard. I walked over to her. “Do you play?”

  “Naw, we got a darkie grandpa who comes in at night what does. I just like to run my fingers across the keys. Feels smooth, like silk.”

  I sat beside her and picked out Old Susanna.

  She smiled. “You play good.”

  “Not really.” I shook my head. Another thing Mama had tried to teach me that I didn’t have time for. “My mama did, though.”

  “My mama’s dead.”

  A lump rose in my throat. “So’s mine.”

  “Miss her a lot, sometimes.”

  “Yeah, know what you mean. If you’d like to learn to play, I could teach you.”

  A wide smile lit up her face, and eyes the color of robin eggs almost popped out their sockets. She clapped her hands together like a little girl. “Oh, Dixie, would you, for certain?”

  “Sure. You teach me to cook, I’ll teach you some simple music.”

  Peg smiled. “You’re good for the soul, Dixie. Stop by anytime.” She winked. “Better come to the back door. Not as awkward.”

  And that’s what I did.

  Every morning after work I’d spend time with Fancy. First in the kitchen, then at the piano. Peg and her girls plugged the hole in my heart that Mama’s death had made. Everything settled into a nice routine, and I started to relax. The knot in my belly began to unravel until someone pounded on my door one Saturday night.

  “Dixie! Dixie! It’s awful, just awful.”

  Debbie Ann’s white face scared the liver plumb out of me. “What?”

  “He took her.”

  “Who? Took who?” I eased her into the chair and poured a glass of water. “Who’s he? Took who?”

  “Fancy. Calhoun’s goon took her.”

  “What?”

  “That gawky kid, Jimmy Ray.” She took a deep gulp of water. “Knew he was no good. Told Fancy to stay away from him, but she wouldn’t listen. Said they loved one another. The no good desperado grabbed her away tonight.”

  “Why?”

  “Reese Calhoun owns most of this town. Been after the White Dove for as long as I can remember, but Mama Peg won’t sell. He had Jimmy Ray steal Fancy. Told Peg if she didn’t hand over the deed to the Dove, he’d kill all her girls, starting with the stupid one.”

  Oh my God. My heart flopped over.

  “Mama Peg is beside herself. Refunded everyone’s money, shooed them out the door, and locked it behind them. Only other time she done that was when Fancy’s mama died, five years ago.” She turned her teary face to mine. “What are we going to do? They can’t kill Fancy. They just can’t.”

  “Get the law. They’ll stop it.”

  Debbie Ann laughed, short and hopeless. “Oh, Dixie, you ain’t been here long enough to know, but the only law in the Siding is whoever can draw their .45 the fastest and shoot the straightest. Even if there was a sheriff, Calhoun would have him in his hip pocket.”

  “Big Mike. Go tell Peg I went to get Big Mike. He’ll help, I’m sure.”

  Almost tripped and fell down the stairs in my hurry to get to camp. I pushed past the men lined up for supper and looked for Chow. Found him out back chopping up a side of beef. I grabbed his arm. “Where’s Big Mike?”

  “So sorry, Missy Dixie, Big Boss Man not here.”

  My knees buckled, and I slumped against the table.

  “Missy Dixie no look good. Look white, like flour.”

  “Really? That’s ’cause I’m scared to death. Reese Calhoun is gonna’ kill Fancy.”

  Chow Chow’s almond shaped eyes grew into circles as big as pie pans. “Missy Fancy?” His hand tightened around the meat clever, and he turned toward the front of the tent. “Calhoun berry bad. Missy Fancy berry good. Chow not let him kill her.”

  I grabbed him by the jacket sleeve and whirled him around. “Go to the White Dove and wait. I’ll be there soon as I can. Gotta’ do something first.”

  He blinked.

  “Go. Hurry.” I pushed him toward the door. “Chop! Chop!”

  Running hard, I weaved around the drunks and stragglers on the sidewalk. Street lanterns blurred into yellow streaks. Breath came short and jerky. The door of Maude’s boarding house slammed so hard behind me that Jesus almost fell off the crucifix hanging on the sitting room wall. I took the stairs two at a time. Fancy was more than my friend, she was family. Already lost Mama because of a no good excuse for a man. Damned if I’d lose a sister to one. If the men in this town didn’t have the guts to stand up to Calhoun, then to hell with them. By God, I did. Didn’t need no one’s help, neither.

  I checked McCullough’s Peacemaker hoping it was loaded. Good. Five rounds. One empty chamber. His leather gun belt could wrap around me twice, and the holster would still hang past my knees. I slung it across my right shoulder and under my arm, then hurried down stairs. Maude stood at the bottom, arms crossed, big duck foot just a tappin’.

  “Miss Dandelion, need I remind you, yet again…”

  I brushed past her. Had more important things to do than listen to another lecture on how to conduct myself as a proper, God-fearin’ lady.

  “Dixie!” Peg yelled when I burst into the sitting room. “I got a half-loco Chinaman in my kitchen swinging a meat cleaver big enough to chop up a horse. Now you rush in here with a gun large enough to shoot one with. What the hell are you doing?”

  Debbie Ann and the girls gathered around Peg and gawked at me. Without batting an eye, I stared them down.

  “Takin’ the law into my own hands. You gonna’ help me or stay here and hide like helpless women?”

  “Yee-haw!” Sassy yelled and headed for the stair
s. “Don’t leave without me.”

  “We’re with you, Dixie. Tell us what to do.”

  Lin Chow shuffled into the room. “Need guns.”

  Peg’s back stiffened. She walked over to the closet and opened the door. A collection of pistols, rifles, and shotguns littered the floor. “Some of the boys leave these here for collateral.” She pulled out a ten-gauge shotgun with round barrels as big as telegraph poles. “Take your pick, girls.”

  Sassy returned with a scattergun bigger than a cannon. “Never been a helpless female in all my life. Ain’t gonna’ start now.”

  Peg looked at us and shook her head. “A cook, a flock of soiled doves, and one crazy Chinaman. God help us.”

  I grinned. Yep. Maude Atkins would throw me out on my ear for sure.

  If I made it back alive.

  Chapter Five

  “What’s the plan, Dixie?” Sassy Annie asked.

  Plan? Didn’t have one. I looked at Peg for help. “Got any ideas on where Calhoun would hide Fancy?”

  “Calhoun owns over half the buildings in this town.” Her brow furrowed for a moment then smoothed. “But his pride and joy is the One-Eyed Jack. He lives in a gaudy suite on the second floor, and his office is downstairs off to the side of the bar. Most likely he’d stash Fancy there.”

  Even though the night was dark as pitch, I didn’t think it would be a good idea to march boldly down Main Street. Six Shooter Siding wasn’t a stranger to gun-toting outlaws and gamblers. Still, the sight of rouge-painted, red-skirted, bosom-showing women armed and loaded for bear might cause a few too many eyebrows to arch. Not to mention an ax-wielding, slanty-eyed, Chin-ee Indian.

  “Can we get to the One-Eyed Jack using the back alleys?” I asked.

  “Good idea,” Peg said. “Follow me.”

  We stepped out the Dove’s back door. Cool air slapped me full in the face. A purple-violet circle surrounded the moon and grabbed at the clouds with bloody fingertips. Blood on the moon. Danger not far away.

  “Ah, lass, ya be just like your papa. Can’t resist a good donnybrook, now can ya?”

  Papa? I whirled and looked behind me. This was the second time I’d heard his voice. I’d never given much thought to ghosts. Was Papa haunting or watching over me?

  Slow and steady we slipped through the dark night. How Peg could walk so graceful wearing those high-heeled slippers of hers was a mystery. I’d be flat on my butt with the first step, yet she weaved down and around the nooks and crannies of the back streets like a silent, black-petticoated panther cat.

  On tiptoes I peeked in the kerosene-smudged window of Calhoun’s back office. Peg stepped beside me. Her lilac-scented perfume wrinkled my nose, and I stifled a sneeze in the crook of my arm.

  Fancy sat in a straight back chair, arms tied behind her. Honey gold hair plastered to her sweat drenched skin. An imprint of a hand on the side of her face glowed red like a brand.

  “Damn that Jimmy Ray,” Peg hissed. “Didn’t have to slap and hogtie Fancy that way. She ain’t a threat.”

  “But I am.” Sassy’s lips flattened into a hard line. “Ain’t got no use for a woman beater.”

  With a wave of my hand, I motioned the girls and Chow to gather around me. “Here’s what we’re gonna’ do,” I whispered. “Peg, you, Sassy, and Debbie Ann go around front and waltz into the One-Eyed Jack like you owned it. Keep Calhoun busy talking about the sale of the Dove. While you’re distracting him, me, Rebecca Sue, and Mary Lou will sneak in through the back door and get Fancy.”

  I tugged McCullough’s knife from my boot.

  Cinnamon gasped. “Ah, Dixcee,” she said in her soft French accent. “You are full of the surprise.”

  With a quick flip, she hiked her skirt up over her thigh and pulled a thin bladed knife from her lace garter. “Stiletto,” she explained. “We think alike, do we not?”

  “Looks like Fancy is alone.” I took a deep breath. “I’ll cut her loose then hightail it back to the Dove.” I nodded at Peg. “Give me about ten minutes than get out of there.”

  Peg handed her shotgun to Debbie Ann and hurried off to the front of the saloon. Sassy followed, scattergun hid in the folds of her dress.

  Oh, Papa. Protect me.

  I counted to twenty then eased through the back door with Becky Sue and Mary Lou nipping at my heels. Cinnamon and Lin Chow stood guard outside.

  The stink of stale cigar smoke and cheap beer met me at the door. Fancy’s eyes widened in surprise, and I clamped my hand over her mouth before she could say anything. “Be quiet,” I whispered into her ear. I removed my hand, bent down, and started cutting the ropes.

  “Dixie,” she whimpered.

  Oh hell and damnation. “Fancy, shut up before Calhoun and his men hear ya and come bustin’ in here.”

  “But, Dixie…”

  A low growl sounded to my left. My hands froze. Slow and easy I turned my head. A black-and-gray, half-wolf, half-dog big enough to throw a saddle on stood stiff-legged and bushy haired not more than three feet away from me.

  “His name is Fang. I tried to warn ya,” Fancy said.

  Lips curled, teeth barred, the wolf-dog leaped from the floor headed straight for me.

  Shit. Why did I think this was going to be easy?

  A blur of gray flashed by. With no time to think, I covered my head with both hands and braced for the pain of teeth ripping flesh from bone. Someone let out a rebel yell. Not me. I lifted my gaze. Fang had a death grip on a long, lanky cowboy—Jimmy Ray.

  A loud boom sounded from the front—Sassy’s scattergun. All hell busted loose. While Fang mauled and Jimmy Ray howled, I sawed through the ropes on Fancy’s wrists, jerked her from the chair, and flung her into Mary Lou and Rebecca Sue’s arms.

  “Get her out of here,” I yelled.

  Before I could pull McCullough’s Peacemaker from its holster, Cinnamon bolted through the door. “Dixcee! Get down!”

  A whoosh of air whistled past my ear followed by a scream. I turned. A cowboy dropped his pistol and clutched at the black handled stiletto stuck in the middle of his chest. He crumbled to the ground. Dead. Cinnamon walked over and pulled the knife from his heart, cool as ice. She acknowledged my look of gratitude with a nod.

  “Hurree, Dixcee. Fancee is safe.”

  With pistol drawn, I charged into the barroom only to stop dead in my tracks when I heard Peg yell, “Let her go, Calhoun.”

  A rail-thin man with a pencil-line mustache had his arm around Debbie Ann’s neck, pistol pointed at her head.

  “Tell that big heifer of yours to drop that hog leg, or I’ll put a bullet through this one’s head.”

  “Let her go first, then I’ll put the gun down,” Sassy countered.

  It was a Mexican standoff. Neither Sassy nor Calhoun had any intentions of backing down. Better think of something, fast. I stepped to the middle of the barroom floor and shot into the air.

  Eyes burned from the bitter gun smoke. A blue-gray fog swirled ghost like in the air. My chest ached with every choppy breath I took. The metallic click of the Peacemaker’s hammer being pulled back echoed through the high rafters.

  “Drop it Calhoun, or I’ll put a hole between your eyes big enough to ride a horse through.”

  My voice bounced off the walls, raspy and tough. Sounded mean. Good. It was a bluff. Couldn’t hit fish in a barrel.

  “Dixie, no,” Peg yelled. “You might hit Debbie Ann.”

  A brief glance at Peg told me she’d run through the fires of hell and back. Blouse ripped. One shoe missing. Hair tousled wild around her gun-smoke streaked face. Sassy didn’t look much better, but the fight was still strong in both their faces. Peg’s plea was a stall for time. To collect her wits and give Sassy necessary minutes to reload and inch closer to Calhoun.

  Calhoun wasn’t buying any of it. He loosened his choke hold, grabbed Debbie Ann’s hair, and dragged her toward the batwing doors. She squirmed away from his shoulder giving me a clear shot. Tears streamed down her face, but no sound came fr
om her lips. Big doe eyes sent a silent message to me to shoot the bastard and be quick about it.

  What the hell. Surely to God I could hit a man.

  I pulled the trigger.

  The bullet went wide. Clipped an antler off a ten-point buck hanging above the bar. A crooked smirk crossed Calhoun’s rat face. I cocked the hammer and fired again.

  This time the shot ricocheted off a spittoon and hit the mirror in back of the bar. The crash of shard glass deafened my ears.

  Teeth clenched, I took aim yet a third time and let fly. The window in back of Calhoun shattered.

  “Mother of God, Dixie. Quit farting around and shoot the son-of-a-bitch,” Sassy yelled.

  Just what the hell did she think I was trying to do?

  This time Calhoun laughed out loud. Big mistake. The blood howling in my ears turned to frosted water. I pointed the pistol at the middle of his chest and pulled the trigger.

  Shot the toe off his boot.

  Shocked, Calhoun yipped in pain and hopped to one foot. Debbie Ann struggled out of his hold and darted behind the bar.

  I pulled the trigger. Click. Out of bullets. Shit.

  Mouth turned to cotton. Breath stopped.

  Calhoun took dead aim.

  A loud boom shook the walls.

  Bright crimson spread across his vest. Calhoun pitched forward. Dead as a mackerel.

  Smoke from Sassy’s scattergun circled the room.

  Dazed, I watched her stand over Calhoun, cross herself and whisper, “May God have mercy on your soul. And I ain’t no heifer.”

  Her gaze lifted to meet mine, and a small smile touched her lips. “A whore that’s got Jesus in her heart is a powerful woman.”

  If I wasn’t about ready to faint, I would’ve laughed myself sick.

  Chapter Six

  Legs shaking, I slumped into the nearest chair. Stunned, I looked at the destruction around me—shattered glass, holes in the ceiling, overturned tables and chairs, a body sprawled on the floor. The stink of blood oozed out of every board and slat.

  “Don’t fall apart on me just yet, hon.”

  Peg’s voice jarred me back into the moment. “We got work to do. Gotta get rid of the evidence.”