“Apparently a lot of people do. He’s took to doin’ the same he was doin’ durin’ the war, only now he ain’t got the war as an excuse. He’s a thief and a murderer.”
“Is he anywhere nearby?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Boy, you got quite an appetite on you, you know that?” Emmett’s comment was made over supper that night at the Rustic Rock restaurant.
Kirby was eating a steak that was so large he needed a second plate for his potatoes and green beans. He had also asked for an extra serving of rolls. “Can you blame me? We ain’t had nothin’ but squirrel and rabbit and such for near two months. I just figured when I get a chance to eat like this, well, maybe I should.”
“I don’t reckon I can argue with that. By the way, Kirby, I been wantin’ to say somethin’ to you. The way you handled yourself today, even the way you handled yourself back in Baxter, was somethin’ special. I’m just real proud of you.”
“It wasn’t all that much,” Kirby said, embarrassed by his pa’s accolades.
“Don’t sell yourself short. I’ve been in more battles than I can count and I’ve seen many men get so scared that they could barely breathe when the shootin’ starts.”
Kirby took a bite of potatoes and nodded. “Sounds like a reasonable thing to do.”
“Yes. But you’ve been in two shootin’ scrapes, and you didn’t get panicked either time.”
“Didn’t seem like the time for it,” Kirby said.
“Still, I want you to know that I’m proud of you.”
“Pa, who are these men you mentioned, Casey, Potter, Stratton, and Richards? I’ve never heard you mention those names before.”
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m just wonderin’ is all. You told the marshal they was your friends, but if they are, how come you haven’t mentioned them before now?”
The response to Kirby’s question was a long silence, then the silence was broken, not by Emmett’s answer, but by another coughing attack. Not until the coughing fit stopped, did Emmett speak. “Why are you so interested?”
Kirby put his finger alongside his nose as his father had done back in the gun shop. “Because there’s somethin’ not quite right here. I can smell it.”
Emmett nodded. “You’re gettin’ a little smarter after all. You’re right. They aren’t friends at all. What Angus Shardeen is to you, those men are to me. If and when I find ’em, I plan to kill ’em.”
“What did they do?”
“They stole some gold that belonged to the Confederate government, and they killed a lot of good men while they was stealing it.”
“Pa, the war’s over. There ain’t no Confederate government no more, which to my thinkin’ means there ain’t no Confederate gold no more.”
“That’s true. But it ain’t the gold I’m concerned with, Kirby. It’s the men they killed while they was comin’ by it. One of ’em was your brother.”
Kirby got a surprised expression on his face. “Are you sure, Pa? The letter I got from Colonel Willis said that Luke was killed in battle on Wilderness Creek.”
“That’s what the report said. But what really happened was that Casey, Potter, Stratton, and Richards shot ’im.”
“Colonel Willis said Luke’s body wasn’t found. He thought that maybe the Yankees found him and buried him.”
“I went up to Wilderness Creek lookin’ for his body, but I never found it, so it could be that the Yankees did find him and bury him. It’s for sure that the men who killed him didn’t take the time to give him a proper burial.”
“Pa, you’re sure that’s what happened? That he was shot by those men you mentioned?”
‘Yes. I am very sure.” Emmett spoke with such absolute authority, that Kirby felt no need to question it any further.
“Do you think those men might be here in Texas?”
“They could be. They might also be in New Mexico, or Colorado, or Idaho.”
“Like you said, Pa, this is an awful big country. How do you plan to find them in such wide open spaces? They could be anywhere between here and the Pacific Ocean.”
“I told you they stole Confederate gold. They stole a lot of it, Kirby, enough to make all of ’em rich as Croesus. Men with that much money can’t hide. They’re goin’ to be spendin’ a lot of it, and that’s goin’ to get them noticed. All I have to do is live long enough to find ’em.”
Kirby chuckled. “Well, that’ll be fifty, sixty years. I reckon we’ll find ’em all right.”
“Maybe not.” The tone of Emmett’s voice was flat and absolute.
“What are you talkin’ about, Pa? What do you mean, maybe not?”
“I mean that, in all likelihood, I don’t have that long left to live.”
Kirby put his fork down and looked at his pa. “The cough?”
“Yeah, but the cough is the result, not the cause.” As if on cue, Emmett coughed again, then he continued with his story. “I caught a ball in the lung, Kirby. Not a lot of men survived a wound like that, and I don’t mind tellin’ you that it laid me flat on my back for weeks. It got all festered up on me. Then lung fever hit the other lung.
“Maybe, just maybe, if I stayed in a dry climate, I might make it, according to the doctors. But they didn’t sound hopeful. They also said that I should rest, and I shouldn’t exert myself too much. But I can’t do that. I swore I would find those men, and I aim to do it.’
“That’s why you wanted me to learn the fast draw, and how to shoot without aiming, isn’t it?”
“Sort of,” Emmett admitted. “If you are with me when I find ’em, you’re goin’ to just naturally get drawed into it. So, I wanted you to be able to take care of yourself. What happened tonight tells me I’m not going to have to worry.”
“Pa . . . we’ll find ’em. And if you don’t live long enough to find all of ’em, I will. I promise you that. I owe it to you . . . and to Luke.”
Emmett reached across the table and squeezed his son’s hand. “I knew I could count on you.”
“You think they’ve got dessert in this place?” Kirby asked as he took the last bite of steak, then pushed the plate to one side.
“Lord, boy. You mean you still have room for dessert?”
“Well, not a whole lot of dessert. Just enough to finish out the meal.”
“What kind of dessert would you want?”
“Maybe a couple pieces of apple pie, with a slab of cheese melted on top.” Kirby smiled. “We can afford it, Pa. We’ll be gettin’ the reward money tomorrow, don’t forget.”
Emmett chuckled and shook his head. “You’re right. Travelin’ around the way we’re doin’, we won’t always have an opportunity to buy pie. I reckon I’ll have a piece with you.”
“As long as you get your own so I don’t have to share,” Kirby replied with a smile.
At that same moment, Dr. Tom Dunaway was standing at the buffet in the parlor of the Palace Princess Emporium, perusing the viand that was laid out for the guests—a glistening ham, a roast beef, and fried or baked chicken. In addition, mashed potatoes, baked sweet potatoes, black-eyed peas, fried and boiled okra, baked loaves of bread, rolls, biscuits, and corn bread were spread out on the long table.
Filling his plate, Dr. Dunaway found an overstuffed chair near the fireplace, which had no fire because it was summer. He began to enjoy the food.
“My goodness, Tom,” Janey said. “From the looks of your plate, one would think that you hadn’t eaten in a month of Sundays.”
“What can I say, Lil? I come to the Palace because the food here is better than can be found at any restaurant in town.”
“Oh, my. Now you have hurt my feelings. I thought you came here to enjoy my company. But now I learn it is only the food that brings you to the Palace.”
“Au contraire, mon cheri,” Dr. Dunaway said. “It is the lovely Mademoiselle Lil that brings me here. Je viens à vous prélasser dans votre beauté.”
When it was obvious that Janey had no idea what
he had just said, he translated it for her. “I come to bask in your beauty.”
“Oh, what a nice thing for you to say, and to say it in such pretty words.”
“Yes, French is a beautiful language.” Dr. Dunaway nodded toward the plate he was holding. “The food is really a secondary reason.” He took a bite of roast beef, then smiled. “But I must admit that it is a strong, secondary reason.”
Janey laughed.
“Say, Doc,” one of the other guests called out. “Is it true that you were in the Yellow Dog when the shootin’ took place this afternoon?”
“Yes, I was there. And I testified to Marshal Wallace that the shooting, at least in two of the cases, was justified.”
“McComb seen it, too, ’n he said one of them wasn’t no more ’n sixteen or seventeen, and that he was really fast.”
“He may have been a little older than that, but not much, I would wager,” Dr. Dunaway replied. “And McComb is right, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone extract their weapon with more speed than that young man did.”
The parlor was relatively crowded at the moment. Some of the men were waiting for their particular choice in girls; some had already been with a woman and hadn’t left yet, while others, like Dr. Dunaway, were just visiting.
Chicago Sue had established her policy that a man could pay five dollars to visit and eat. That was very expensive for a meal that could be had for no more than a dollar at any other restaurant in town, but the food wasn’t the only attraction. The five dollars allowed them to fill their plates from the buffet, and also to visit with the women who weren’t currently engaged. However, their interaction with the women could go no further than visiting. If they wished to advance the temporary relationship with one of the young ladies, they were charged an additional fee.
Fancy Lil was one of the principal attractions of the parlor because she was an entertaining conversationalist. . . and the men liked being around someone as beautiful as she was. Her presence also provided the catalyst that some might need to engage one of the other girls for a more intimate visit.
“Fancy Lil,” Dr. Dunaway said, holding out a wine goblet. “Would you pour me a little more wine?”
“Of course. I would be glad to,” Janey replied with a practiced smile. “Red or white?”
“Red wine, of course. White wine is for women and sodomites. It isn’t for real men.”
Janey smiled. “Well then, by all means, it shall be red wine.”
“Say, Doc, what did that feller say the gunmen’s names was?” one of the other guests asked.
“I wouldn’t call them gunmen,” Dr. Dunaway replied. “After all, the word gunman has such a negative connotation.”
“What would you call them, then?”
“I would call them gentlemen, who, by circumstances not of their own making, were challenged by unexpected events. And they met that challenge, quite admirably.”
Janey approached Dr. Dunaway with a bottle of red wine.
“All right, gentlemen then. What was their names?”
Janey started to pour the wine.
“Jensen, I think. It was a father and son. Emmett and Kirby Jensen. They were—”
With a gasp, Janey poured wine onto Dr. Dunaway’s trousers.
“Lil, watch what you’re doing!”
“I’m . . . I’m sorry.” She handed Dr. Dunaway the wine bottle, then turned and ran quickly from the parlor.
“Wait, you don’t have to run away! I know it was just an accident!”
The other guest frowned. “What did you say to her, Doc?”
“Nothing that would make her run away like that. I don’t know what that was all about.”
Chicago Sue had never seen Janey act in such a way, so she excused herself and hurried to Janey’s room. “Lil?” she called, knocking lightly on the door. She heard nothing from the other side of the door. “Lil, it’s me, Sue. Please open the door, dear.”
Janey opened the door, then turned and walked back into her room.
Sue followed her inside, then closed the door behind her. “What’s wrong, Janey?” she asked, using her real name. “Did Dr. Dunaway do or say something to upset you? If so, I’ll make certain that he leaves tonight, and I won’t let him come back until you get an apology and a guarantee that he won’t do it again.”
“No, no, he didn’t do anything wrong. It’s nothing like that,” Janey said, waving her hand.
“Then what is it? What has upset you? Something has, and that’s for sure.”
“It’s them. They are in Dallas. Oh, Sue, they’ve come for me. I know they have.”
“Who? Who has come for you? Janey, are you in trouble with the law?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t understand. Who has come for you?”
“My father and my brother. I know they have come to take me back to Missouri. Oh, Sue, what can I do? I’ll never go back to Missouri. I can’t go back!”
“Are they downstairs now? If so, I’ll go talk to them.”
“No! They aren’t downstairs. I’m sure that they don’t know that I’m working here. At least not yet.”
“Then, how do you know they are here?”
“Did you hear about the shooting in the Yellow Dog Saloon today?”
“Yes, everyone has heard about it. That’s all anyone is talking about.”
“That was them. The two men all the people are talking about . . . are my father and brother.”
“How do you know?”
“Dr. Dunaway said that the shooters’ names were Emmett and Kirby Jensen. That can’t be a mere coincidence.”
“Jensen? I thought your last name was Garner.”
Janey sighed. “My last name is Jensen. I left Missouri with a man named Paul Garner, and even though we never got married, I took his name.”
“Where is Paul Garner now? Perhaps he is the one who told your family where to find you.”
“He’s dead. He was caught cheating in a card game and was shot.”
“Janey, if you don’t want to go back with your father and your brother, there is no need for you to do so. You are certainly old enough to make up your own mind about such things.”
“There’s more to it than that.”
“Oh?”
“Pa was away in the war and Kirby was running the farm all by himself. He did it from the time he was thirteen. And he did a real good job with it, too. He supported my ma and me. He was saving all the money he made to give to Pa when he came home from the war. Two thousand dollars. He hid the money—”
“And you took it.” Sue’s comment was more matter-of-fact than accusing.
“Yes. Paul talked me into doing it. He told me that he was an investor, and that if I gave him the two thousand dollars he could double it. I didn’t really intend to steal it. I thought I would be able to pay the money back, with interest, before Kirby missed it. I even left a note in the empty jar when I took the money, promising to pay it back.”
“But Paul didn’t double the money, did he?”
“No, he lost it all. Or almost all. He still had some of the money left when he was shot, but the other card players—the ones who had been cheated by him—took the money and divided it.”
“Would you like me to talk to your father and brother?”
“No! Please, no! They can’t know that I’m in Dallas! And they especially can’t know that I’m a . . . that I’m . . . here,” she said, taking in her room with a wave of her hand.
Sue reached out to put her hand on Janey’s shoulder. “Honey, you aren’t the first girl to run away from home, and you aren’t the first girl who took money from her family to finance her escape. And you aren’t the first girl who ever wound up on the line.” She smiled. “But you are the most beautiful of all the girls I have ever known in such a situation.”
Janey smiled through her tears.
“Why don’t you let me check around a bit? I won’t mention you, and I’ll see what I can find out. It may be that the
y are here for an entirely different reason. You didn’t let anyone back in Missouri know you were coming to Dallas, did you?”
“No.”
“Then, how could they possibly know you are here? I’m sure the fact that they are in Dallas is just a coincidence.”
“They must not know about me, Sue,” Janey said. “Please, don’t say anything that would get them even suspicious.”
“I promise, I’ll say nothing about you.”
Emmett and Kirby were having breakfast in the dining room of the Lone Star Hotel the next morning when Kirby saw a very attractive woman come into the dining room. She spoke briefly to the maître d’, who pointed to their table.
Kirby leaned forward and whispered, “Pa, there’s a real pretty woman comin’ toward our table. I wonder if it’s Fancy Lil.”
“Who?”
“You know, the woman Doc and them were talkin’ about yesterday. The one they said was so pretty.”
Emmett chuckled. “What would make Fancy Lil, or any woman for that matter, come to our table?”
“I don’t know, but here she comes.”
“I’m sure you are just—” Emmett stopped in mid-sentence when it became evident that the woman actually was coming toward them. “Stand up.”
“What for?”
“It’s what a gentleman does when a lady approaches him . . . if he is sitting.” Emmett stood up.
Following his father’s example, Kirby stood as well.
“You would be the Jensens?” the woman asked. “Father and son, I believe.” She smiled broadly.
“Yes, ma’am,” Emmett replied. “What can we do for you?”
“Oh, you have already done it.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I understand that you killed Emerson Cox, yesterday.”
“Yes, ma’am. It wasn’t by intention. It was something that—”
“From what I hear, you had no choice. It was either kill him or be killed by him.”
“Yes, ma’am. Something like that. Oh, would you join us, Miss . . .”
“Sue. Everyone just calls me Sue. Yes, I would have a cup of coffee with you, if you don’t mind being seen with me.”
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