The Adventures of Dixie Dandelion

by R. H. Burkett

  The two-story main house, painted an eye-squinting dazzling white, sported columns and even had two stone lions at its entrance. The place mirrored its owner. Big and showy. Fancy sat on the porch. When she caught sight us, she hurried down the steps.

  “Dixie. Get outta’ here. Cody Wayne throw a fit if’n he sees y’all. Why are you here, anyway?”

  “We came to fetch you back,” Debbie Ann said before I could swallow.

  “Maybe…maybe I don’t want to go back.”

  “Oh Fancy, you can’t lie worth spit,” Sassy said. “I’ve known you since you was knee high. You couldn’t fib when you was little, and you can’t all grown up neither. I don’t know what hold Cody Wayne has over you, but it don’t matter. Come on home where you belong.”

  “Well, well. What do we have here, boys?”

  Cody Wayne’s mocking tone cut through me slicker than a knife. The little grin on his face made me want to slap him just ’cause I could. Surrounded by four of his men who looked more like gunfighters than cowpunchers, he stepped to Fancy’s side. Fang growled.

  “Cody Wayne,” I said just as sweet as maple syrup. “I came for Fancy. I need my cook back.”

  “She ain’t fulfilled all her bargain yet.”

  “About that bargain,” I continued. “May I see the signed contract?”

  A dull, stupid look replaced his sneer. “Huh?”

  “What I mean is, you claim you and Fancy entered into an agreement.” I glanced at Fancy. “You sign any paperwork?”

  “No.”

  “Didn’t think so.” I turned back to Cody. “Without a written, signed contract, how do I know a deal was even offered?”

  Flustered, Cody stammered. “You…you calling me a liar?”

  “If she ain’t, I am,” Sassy interrupted.

  Cody’s back straightened. The smirks on his men’s faces disappeared. Behind me I heard the smooth slide of Winchesters being pulled from scabbards. Things were heating up fast.

  “Weren’t no call for no contract,” Cody insisted. “It was a verbal agreement.”

  “Cody? What’s going on here?”

  All three hundred pounds of Rutherford Lee Daggett waddled out the front door. He fixed me with a beady-eyed stare. “Miss Dandelion?” He gawked at the rifles in the girls’ hands. Rifles aimed at his only son’s head. “May I ask what business brings you to the Rocking R that necessitates the use of gunplay?”

  “Mr. Daggett. How nice to see you again,” I gushed. “I assure you I’m not looking for trouble today. I just came to get my sister.”

  “I was not aware you had a sister, Miss Dandelion.”

  “Oh, I wager there are a lot of things about me you’re not aware of, sir.” I heard Debbie Ann snort. “Did you know your son traded ten head of cattle for ten days and nights for the company of a young woman?”

  “I was told this woman agreed to the arrangement, Miss Dandelion. What reason would I have to doubt it? After all, she’s nothing but a two-bit whor…

  The cold, hard sound of rifle hammers being pulled back stopped him mid-sentence. Ready to beat him to a pulp, I dismounted and stormed up the porch steps to stand face-to-face with the fat banker.

  “Just this once I’m going to overlook that slip-of-the-tongue, Mr. Daggett. I’m also going to pretend you had no knowledge of your son’s wickedness and deceit.”

  I dug in my jacket pocket for the bills I’d taken from my boot stash. “It is my understanding that cattle in Texas are going for five dollars a head. Since we are a long way from Texas, I’m paying you twice that amount.” I pushed the money into his hand. “I’ll need a receipt, if you don’t mind. Nothing personal, just good business. I’m sure you understand.”

  All puffed up like a Rhode Island Red, Daggett shot Cody Wayne a scowl so poisonous I almost felt sorry for the fella. Rutherford turned on his heel and stomped into the house.

  I backed off the porch and took Fancy by the hand. “It’s all up to you, Fancy. Do you want to come home?”

  She glanced over at Cody. I tipped her head back to me. “Never mind him. Do you? Or don’t you?

  I struggled to hear her whisper. “I do.”

  Debbie Ann brought up Prince Charming. I held his bridle until Fancy got into the saddle.

  “Miss Dandelion.” Rutherford Lee Daggett cleared this throat. “Your receipt.”

  I handed the paper to Debbie Ann who read every word with a hawk eye. Satisfied, she nodded. I put on my best smile. “Mr. Daggett, as always, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

  I didn’t blow out the breath I’d been holding until we rode through the gate.

  Cinnamon and Inky met us halfway home. We stopped to let the horses blow. Inky pushed his hat back off his forehead.

  “Miss Dixie. A word of advice. Never go into battle without guarding your flank. Next time you go off half-cocked and don’t let me know, I’s riding out for good. Brave is Brave. Stupid is stupid. Savvy?”

  “Yes, Inky. I give you my word.”

  By the time we got back to the ranch, I felt like I’d been rode hard and put up wet. All I wanted to do was sit down and glue my nerves back together, but there was something I had to do first. I put my arm around Fancy and walked her into the house. We sat at the kitchen table and drank warmed over morning coffee. I sighed. “I gotta know. Tell me square. Why did you do this?”

  She twirled her hair and wouldn’t look at me. “I didn’t mean no harm.”

  “Not good enough, Fancy. That’s the second time you said that. Try again. Did you mean those rude things you said to me and Debbie Ann?”

  Ramrod straight she finally quit fidgeting and met my gaze. “Lord, no. Dixie. I just said those things to get Cody Wayne away from here. I didn’t want no one to get hurt.”

  “Did you want to go with him?”

  “Not really. But I did agree to the bargain.”

  “Why?”

  She got up and paced the kitchen. Back and forth. I put out my hand and stopped her.

  “You don’t understand, Dixie. I wanted to do something to help. I don’t feel like I pull my weight around here. Oh, I can cook, but cooks are a dime a dozen.”

  Really? I opened my mouth to disagree. She interrupted.

  “I ride good enough. But the only thing I can rope is me. Branding makes me sick. I feel useless. I overheard Inky saying you were in a real bind about the cows. I knew Cody Wayne from the White Dove. Knew I could persuade him. Because he said…I thought…well—”

  “Let me guess. He said he loved you?”

  She nodded.

  “So you sold yourself to help me out.”

  “It’s the only thing I’m good at.”

  She might as well have thrown a rope around my heart and jerked it from my chest. Tears stung my eyes. I blinked them back.

  “Fancy, listen to me.” I took a deep breath. Wasn’t sure where I was headed with this.

  “I wish there was a way I could make you understand how special you are. Just because you have a hard time roping and branding doesn’t mean you’re not doing your fair share. A cook is the most important person on a ranch. Or anywhere for that matter. Do you really think Big Mike’s men could build a railroad eating only bread and water three times a day?”

  She giggled.

  “Don’t try to be someone you’re not, Fancy. Don’t make excuses for who you are. You’re smart. You can read and write. Play the piano. Got a heart so full of love it spills over and touches everyone. Heals their sadness. That’s what angels do.”

  “Oh Dixie. You calling me an angel?” Her little girl voice and wide-eyed innocence about flattened me.

  I hugged her to my chest. “About as close to one as I can imagine. Angels don’t sell themselves to any man. Don’t you either.”

  She pulled away from me. Couldn’t tell if it were her tears or mine that dampened my collar.

  “Ain’t no one ever talked to me this away before, except maybe Mama. This is the second time you saved me
, Dixie. There won’t be need of another. I promise. Besides, you might not come the third time.”

  “I always come, Fancy. That’s just what sisters do.”

  After Fancy left to fix what she claimed would be “the best supper I ever ate,” I eased into the rocking chair. Dickens bounded across the room and jumped into my lap. I patted his head and let his kitten purrs ease the tightness in my chest.

  Nineteen. But right now I felt older than the hills.

  This time I not only heard Papa’s voice but felt his hand on my shoulder as well.

  “You be one hell of a woman. Margaret Katelyn O’Shea.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  A few of our mares were carrying foals when I got them from Black Bear. Our first foal came into the world with oohs, ahhs, and happy tears filling the barn to the brim. All day long Inky had kept a close eye on mama horse and woke us in time to witness the little fella’s first breath.

  “Let’s name him Morning Star because he was born at dawn.”

  Inky shook his head and whispered in my ear, “If Miss Fancy’s gonna name every colt born on this ranch, she gonna run out of names. It ain’t good. Putting a name on something makes it yours. When it comes time to sell this little bugger, she’ll be mighty sad.”

  I didn’t say a word. Deep in my heart I knew Fancy wouldn’t be the only one feeling low the day someone bought him. I would too. However Inky made a good point. It was a bad idea to get attached to any of the foals. After all, I was in the horse selling business. But I could no more stop Fancy from falling in love with every baby colt than cook. If she wanted to name them, so be it.

  Our second birth took place two weeks later. Another colt. Fancy called him Sticks because of his thin legs. A week after, during the full moon, our black mare threw a little filly. Fancy dubbed her Moonbeam. I had to hand it to her, Fancy sure could pick good names. My horse ranch was in full swing.

  “Pretty proud of yourself, ain’t ya?” Sassy commented one morning.

  “Is that a bad thing?” I asked.

  “Nope. You got a right. You’ve come a long way in a short time.”

  “Couldn’t have done it without you and the girls.”

  “Wildest notion I ever heard of, Doves trading in silk stockings and lace corsets for boots and chaps, but it’s worked out so far. Never thought any of us, except maybe the twins, would like ranch life, but it isn’t that bad. It’s hard work. But it’s got its rewards.”

  “Big Mike said most of the town is betting against us.”

  “Told me the same thing. We ain’t out of the woods by no means. Of course you leaving a trail of enemies behind ya doesn’t help matters none.”

  “What enemies?”

  “Rutherford Lee Daggett and son. You embarrassed Cody Wayne in front of his men. Made him look like a fool. Daddy didn’t take kindly to writing out that receipt neither. I have no doubt the two of them had words over the whole deal. Ain’t the first time Rutherford’s had to bail Cody out of a mess. Won’t be the last time neither. Even still, blood is thicker than water. Besides, I think Daggett wanted this ranch all to himself.”

  “Then he should’ve bought it. Place was vacant for years.”

  “Maybe being the president of the land bank had something to do with that. Maybe not. Just a guess. All I’m saying is trouble has a way of finding you. Don’t get too comfortable.”

  She was right. Trouble damn near broke down my door one Sunday afternoon.

  “Missy Dixie! Missy Dixie!”

  Lin Chow?

  It wasn’t Lin Chow who stood on the other side of the door. It was Mae Ling, his daughter. Tears streamed down her delicate face and choked her words. Had a hard enough time understanding her when she was calm. Being so worked up made it double hard to figure out what she jabbered. I helped her inside and tried to calm her down.

  “Mae Ling, what’s wrong?”

  “Father. Bad men take Father away.”

  Face pale as milk, she gulped air. From the looks of things, she’d ran all the way from town. Scared she’d collapse in a heap at my boots, I pressed a wet neckerchief to the back of her neck. I wouldn’t let her talk again until her little bird chest quit heaving.

  “Talk slow. Tell me what happened.”

  A little calmer now, she turned her teary face to mine. “Men come take Father. They say Father kill another.”

  This time it was my heart that tore loose and stampeded. The One-Eyed Jack had just raised its ugly head and bit me.

  “They hang Father.”

  Where the hell was Big Mike in all of this? He wouldn’t let them take Lin Chow without a fight.

  “Mae Ling? Where is Big Mike?”

  “I look. Cannot find.”

  She clung to my hand. “Please Missy Dixie. Hurry.”

  My mind raced. No way would I let them hang Lin Chow. Not if I could help it, but without help, I wasn’t sure I could stop them. Everyone except Fancy had gone with Inky and Cinnamon to help finish up at the cabin. Inky. Damnation. I’d promised him I wouldn’t go on a rampage without telling him first. Surely he wouldn’t ride away. It was a bluff. But not a bluff I was willing to call.

  “Missy Dixie.” Mae Ling jerked my sleeve. “Don’t let them kill Father.”

  Oh hell. I’d worry about Inky later.

  “Mae Ling, you stay put. Do not go back into town. Understand?”

  She nodded.

  I buckled on my six gun, grabbed my back-up revolver, and a handful of preloaded cylinders. I raced to the bunk-dollhouse and shook Fancy awake.

  “Fancy, I need your help. They’re going to lynch Lin Chow if I don’t stop it. I need you to ride out to the cabin and tell Inky.”

  For once Fancy had her wits about her. She nodded. No hysterics. No tears. Just tight-lipped determination.

  Saddle blankets flew onto wide backs. Saddles cinched. Bridles fastened. We stepped up in the stirrups.

  Prince tore out of the barn like his tail was on fire. Fancy held tight, riding fast and wild.

  I spurred Joe into town.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Not wanting to be seen, I checked Joe down to a walk and rode into town the backway. I explored the cook tent for Big Mike. Nothing. The stable was next. The heavy wood doors were shut. My heart broke into a trot. The doors always stood open. I drew my Colt, cracked the door a few inches, and slithered in. Nothing. Gun holstered, I turned to leave when my foot hit something hard. A shovel. A bloody shovel. I gawked at the thing like it was the devil’s cloven hoof and forked tail laying at my feet. A low groan came from one of the stalls.

  Big Mike, tussled up neater than a Christmas goose, lay sprawled out on the straw. The copper scent of fresh blood wrinkled my nose. Forget the trot, my heart tore into a full-out gallop.

  Several deep breaths settled my panic. I kneeled beside him. From the looks of the blood and the cut on his scalp, some coward had smacked him good in the back of the head with the shovel. Wouldn’t want to be in the boots of that low-down yellow belly if Big Mike ever found out who he was. Still out cold, there was nothing I could do but cut him loose and let him wake up on his own.

  I swallowed hard. Once again I’d have to face danger alone.

  Before mounting up and riding into a hornet’s nest, I stopped to think. Something I didn’t usually do in situations like this. Inky would be proud. Jackson too. Jackson. I sure could use that dimpled Pinkerton right about now.

  “Papa, what should I do?” I whispered.

  “Stampede.”

  There were three horses in the barn. Two more tied up outside. If I could run them through the mob, I could grab Lin Chow before they knew what hit them.

  At the edge of town stood a huge tree. I have no idea what kind of tree, but it was strong enough to hold a man four times the size of Lin Chow. I reasoned that’s where they dragged him. I paused a few yards off. Sure enough, there was Lin Chow meekly letting his hands be tied. What was wrong with him? If someone was about to hang me, I’d be da
mn if I would go down without a fight. I’d be a screaming, biting, kicking demon from hell.

  With pistol drawn, one deep slug of air, and a prayer on my lips, I shot into the air.

  The horses spooked and ran full bore down the hill. The lynch mob’s horses caught stampede fever. Reared. Bucked. Kicked. Joined in the chaos. Rocks and dirt flew and surrounded the crowd in an eye-burning haze. I gave out a rebel yell. Then another. One after another. Loud. Fierce. The Colt bucked in my hands. The bitter smell of gun smoke circled my head. Shot after shot. Empty. I grabbed my back-up revolver and kept right on shooting. The gritty taste of gun powder coated my lips. Confused and scared, the mob around Lin Chow ducked for cover. Without breaking stride, I reached for the little Chinaman and hauled him up behind me in the saddle.

  Everything moved at break-neck speed and slow motion all at the same time. I felt Lin Chow’s breath on the back of my neck. Smelled his fear and sweat. Even saw the face of one of the mob and heard his scream when a bullet ripped through his shoulder. Tommy Ferrell. Big Mike’s trusted foreman. Bet he was the one who clobbered Big Mike. Glad I shot him. Hope the cockroach bled to death.

  Out of bullets, I settled deep in the saddle and concentrated on riding hard and fast.

  “Anyone following us?” I shouted at Lin Chow.

  I felt him twist and turn. “See nothing.”

  I pushed Joe hard. Had to get back to the ranch before they regrouped and came after me.

  Inky had just swung in the saddle when we came racing in.

  “I’s sorry, Miss Dixie. We took the buckboard to the cabin. Had to come and get Mud before heading your way.” He glanced over at Lin Chow sitting behind me. “Don’t look like you needed my help anyways.”

  Blood roared in my ears. Made it hard to understand Inky. Didn’t matter. I was more curious about the Chinese woman standing in the middle of the yard. Lin Chow bailed off Joe and hurried to her side. Wrapped in his arms, the woman sobbed. Inky followed my gaze.

  “That’s the Chinaman’s missus. Showed up here a while after you lit out. Reckon she walked all the way from town.”