Dutch stuffed the posters in his pocket. “I guess we’re going to be looking over our shoulders from now on.”
“I think we will be safe enough here,” Corbin said.
Dutch laughed. “Do you think that these outlaws in here wouldn’t turn us in for a plug nickel, much less a thousand dollars?” Dutch didn’t wait for an answer; he looked at Harper and said, “Are you set on going to Mexico, or could you be talked into taking a detour that could prove to be more profitable?”
Harper cocked his head. “What do you have in mind?”
“Seeing as how we need to lay low, I’d like to take a trip to Purgatory Canyon. I have a feeling Culpepper and Taggart are hiding out there.”
“We owe them for robbing us. That’s for sure,” Deke said.
“At least they didn’t kill us like they did Reb,” Corbin said.
Dutch shook his head in disgust. “Yeah, let’s be sure to thank them when we see them.”
“I’ve never been to Purgatory Canyon, but I hear it’s not a safe place to go,” Harper said.
Dutch pointed to Deke and Corbin. “We know Purgatory Canyon like the backs of our hands.”
Deke nodded his agreement. “Dutch is right. We know that terrain better than anyone, and we’ve met up with a lot of outlaws in there. We ain’t never seen Culpepper and Taggart there, so we’d have an advantage of knowing the lay of the land.”
“What makes you think they are there now?” Harper asked.
“They were being chased by U.S. Marshal Holt. Where else were they going to go? We made friends with that old codger, Indian Pete. He’s lived in that canyon his whole life and he’s about eighty years old. If Culpepper and Taggart are hiding out in there, Indian Pete will know. All we have to do is take him a bottle of whiskey and he’d lead us to where they are hiding out.”
“I don’t think Culpepper or Taggart could take us in a fair fight,” Deke said.
“Who said it would be fair?” Dutch said. “We’ll get the drop on them, just like they did on us—in the dead of night. And I hope they’re as drunk as we were.”
“If I go with you, what’s in it for me?” Harper needed to make some money to help his sister out with her kids.
“We got forty thousand dollars in that robbery. Of course, that don’t mean there’ll be that much left. But whatever we get back, we’ll split four ways.”
Harper swirled the whiskey in his glass as he considered Dutch’s offer. He might be taking a risk trying to find two killers who may have already spent some of the money. On the other hand, even if there was only fifteen thousand left, he’d have to work months to make that much money. What the doctor in Denver said played in his mind. You’ve got cancer, Mr. Ellis, and I’d be surprised if you last another year. You should get your affairs in order. Harper knew he didn’t have much time to waste. Even if his take was five thousand dollars, it’d go a long way to making sure his sister and her four kids had something besides a life full of heartache.
Still, he wasn’t keen on breaking the law. He figured how he’d chosen to earn a living was the best of both worlds. He always thought he understood an outlaw’s mind. The one thing he had in common with them was he’d always thrived on the excitement of taking chances and living on the edge. Yet he also thought like a lawman. He believed in right and wrong, but where he parted company with the law was how he’d chosen to mete out justice his own way. He wasn’t one to wait around on a court of law. If the ranchers had waited around for some judge to do something about their stolen property, they’d be waiting until daisies covered their graves.
“You don’t think the three of you can take Culpepper and Taggart?” Harper asked.
“I’ve thought about where they could be hiding out in there, and it would be better if we had four guns,” Dutch said. Dutch was also figuring that Corbin was pretty much useless with a gun, and Harper was a pretty good shot.
“What about the marshal? What makes you think he won’t go to Purgatory Canyon?”
Dutch shrugged. “He could, but most lawmen who made that choice have ended up dead.”
“Have you boys thought about getting that money back and then turning yourselves in?”
“Why do you ask that?” Dutch asked.
Harper figured he owed it to Dutch to offer a different point of view. He’d lived longer, and he’d seen his fair share of mistakes made by outlaws. Dutch, Deke, and Corbin weren’t bad men; they’d just started off in life without a prayer. Maybe they could benefit from his knowledge, or maybe not. It was up to them. What was that old saying about leading a horse to water? “If the law catches up to you, that money might be your only bargaining chip. If, as you say, Frank is in with Judge Stevens, I don’t think he’ll have a problem pointing the finger at you for all his crimes. You’ll be the one swinging from a rope and not Frank.”
Chapter Five
Clay had intentionally ridden his horse behind the buckboard on the ride back to Whispering Pines early Sunday morning. Sweetie leaped from the buckboard to run beside him. The ladies were talking nonstop, and Clay could hear some of their conversation, but he didn’t participate. It wasn’t like him not to be sociable, but he had a lot on his mind that he needed to sort out. Weighing heavy on his mind were the members of the church. He didn’t feel he should apologize for going to the Grand Crystal Hall, but he’d still have to find a way to mend fences with some of the parishioners who’d disapproved of his actions. Carlo had asked him an interesting question, and it was one he intended to pose to the congregation tonight. If they showed up for the late service.
His congregation wasn’t the only thing on his mind. As soon as he’d heard that Marshal Holt and Sheriff Trent were leaving to trail Culpepper and Taggart, he’d been thinking about the man he was a few short years ago. He no longer had the desire to kill men as he did in the past, but he felt the need to see for himself the kind of men who had gunned down his family. The other men who had ridden with the gang had pinned the murders on Culpepper and Taggart. Of course, they were all killers and probably trying to save their own hides when he’d faced them in gunfights, but Clay thought they had told the truth in the end. The question on Clay’s mind this morning was why he wasn’t able to forgive them. The Good Book said if he wanted forgiveness, he had to forgive. But how could he get to a place of forgiveness for men who’d committed such evil deeds? The Bible also said one sin was no greater than another. That was another tenet he had difficulty understanding.
Until last night, he’d thought he had moved on from his past. Now he wasn’t as certain. Physically he’d moved on. He’d left behind the graves of his family, and the ranch he loved and built with his own two hands. But his locale wasn’t the issue. His soul was. Forgiving men for their sins was an easy sermon to preach, but it was a different thing altogether when faced with forgiving men who’d committed the sin against the ones you loved.
* * *
“He doesn’t talk very much,” Emma said.
Seeing the direction of Emma’s gaze, Granny said, “You’re talking about Clay.”
“Yes. He hasn’t said two words this morning.”
Morgan and Jack heard the conversation. Jack turned around and said, “He’s not so quiet from the pulpit. I think he’s worried about what some of the folks will say tonight at church.”
“I’m not convinced that’s all that’s on his mind,” Granny said.
“He shouldn’t be worried at all about going to the Grand Crystal last night. Half of the church members were there,” Jack said.
“He’s worried about the other half who weren’t there. They made their voices heard, and didn’t approve of him going to a place where alcohol was served.” Morgan had told Clay not to be troubled about their opinion. He’d learned long ago you couldn’t make everyone happy. He figured as long as you were doing the right thing for the right reasons, you had no reason to worry. Unless you didn’t have the strength of character to avoid succumbing to the temptations of such establish
ments. He knew Clay was a man of admirable character, and he had no such problem.
“Granny, were you concerned what people would say about you going to our performance last night?” Emma asked.
“Heavens, no. I loved the place, and no other place could accommodate such a large crowd. I’ve been around the church all my life, and when I’ve doctored folks, I can’t tell the saints from the sinners. The good Lord has told us not to judge others, and we all should remember that directive. Clay has good intentions, and he doesn’t want to disappoint anyone. When he gets to be my age he’ll learn you can’t please everyone. We should leave it up to the Almighty to do the judging. He’s had a lot of practice, and He can certainly do it without any help from the likes of me. I think a few folks are being judgmental, but others see it as their duty to steer their brothers from temptation.”
Emma leaned over and hugged her grandmother. “Oh, Granny, I wish more people thought like you. You always understand both sides of a situation. I hope the folks who objected will not hold it against the pastor.”
Jack and Morgan exchanged a glance. They knew some of the church ladies would be in high dudgeon with Clay this evening. They were staunch in their beliefs about the evils of socializing in venues where alcohol was served, and not even the talented pastor would change their views. But Granny was right; they were good people, and they were to be commended for sticking to their beliefs.
“Do you think Clay’s sermon will be on judging others?” Morgan asked.
“I’m betting it will be on the wages of sin after seeing all of those gaming tables full last night. And they sure had a lot of people coming and going out of those rooms upstairs,” Jack replied.
“What rooms?” Rose asked.
Morgan elbowed Jack. “Yeah, Jack, what rooms?”
Jack hadn’t realized the women didn’t see everything he’d observed on the second floor of the establishment last night. There was a large sign that clearly stated that the private rooms were for conversation only. He’d heard about high-class establishments that employed well-educated young women to entertain men with diverse conversation, but he’d never personally frequented such a place. He’d also heard the rules were strictly enforced, and if a man got out of line, they were quickly escorted off the premises by the law. “The rooms on the second floor are where people can have private conversations.”
Morgan arched his brow at him, thinking by his vague response the women would think he meant something totally different.
“That better not mean what it sounds like, Jack Roper,” Granny warned.
Jack rolled his eyes, thinking Granny saw right through his response.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, young man,” Granny said.
Morgan laughed.
Jack’s deputy, Webb, had told him Granny had eyes in the back of her head, and he was beginning to believe it. “What makes you think I rolled my eyes at you, Granny?”
“I know you, Jack Roper.” Granny was smiling, but Jack didn’t need to know that.
“You are teasing about these conversation rooms, aren’t you?” Addie asked Jack.
Jack turned to look at his wife. “No, honey, I’m not. These kinds of ”—he almost said “saloons” but he caught himself—“entertainment places hires well-educated, pretty ladies to have conversations with men in private rooms.”
“And how do you know having conversations are what they are doing?” Addie asked.
“There was a sign at the top of the stairs directing folks to the conversation rooms.” Jack was smiling at his own clever retort.
Rose was incredulous. “Are you telling me men pay good money to converse with women when most of them have wives at home?”
“It’s been known to happen,” Jack replied.
Morgan was enjoying the grilling Jack was receiving. He should have known better than to open his big mouth.
“Morgan, did you know about this? You’ve spent a lot of time in Denver. Have you been there?” Rose asked.
Morgan was handling the team, so he didn’t turn around, but he didn’t need to look at his wife to know by her tone that she wasn’t pleased. “No, I haven’t been there. I believe I told you that last night.” He wasn’t about to mention he’d been in a place like the Grand Crystal Hall years ago in San Francisco. The women were indeed beautiful and intelligent. But if a man didn’t have a sizable bank account, they didn’t make it to the conversation rooms. Before men were even allowed in the club, they had to provide a recommendation from another member. The Grand Crystal Hall wasn’t quite as elite, but he figured the same rules applied.
“One would hardly think a man would pay for conversation when they can talk to their wives, or if they are not married, they could talk to the women at church,” Addie said.
Morgan shot Jack a quick glance, trying to stifle his laughter. Jack was trying hard to keep a straight face.
“It all sounds very fishy to me,” Rose said.
“I’ve sang in a few places that have the same kind of conversation rooms.” Emma thought if her sisters knew of some of the places she’d performed, they’d die of fright.
“What respectable woman would work in such a place?” Rose asked.
“Some of these gals are from prominent families, have traveled the world, and are able to converse on many subjects,” Emma replied.
“Why would good families allow their daughters to work in such establishments? And why would such educated women even want to do that?” Rose asked.
“I’m sure those women are of age,” Granny said. “Perhaps their families have no say in the matter. Everyone makes their own choices. Many younger women are easily influenced by what they might think is a more interesting life, and their heads are turned by the flattery of wealthy men.”
“Perhaps they are trying to find wealthy husbands,” Addie said.
“I think it’s disappointing that young women don’t learn to make their own way in a respectable profession,” Rose said.
“The respectable positions don’t pay as much, and they are not that easy to come by unless you live in larger cities,” Emma said.
“True enough,” Granny said.
“And don’t forget, many people think my profession is not respectable,” Emma reminded them.
“Why in heavens not?” Granny asked.
“For the simple reason we perform in what people think are unsavory places. They judge me based on that fact alone. Just like your pastor has found out.”
Morgan and Jack were thankful the conversation took a different direction.
But Rose wasn’t ready to let the subject drop. “Husband, would you ever visit a conversation room?”
Morgan heard the skepticism in her voice. He had a feeling she didn’t believe that the conversation rooms were there for talking only. “I don’t need to, I have you.”
“But what if you didn’t have a smart, beautiful wife?” Emma teased.
Morgan hesitated, trying to think of a diplomatic response. “I’m a smart man. I waited to marry until I found the woman of my dreams.”
Even no-nonsense Emma thought Morgan gave the perfect response. “Rose, I’d say you have yourself a winner.”
“I’m just as fortunate,” Rose replied.
The men were thankful they were almost home, and even more grateful when the women’s conversation turned to fashion and other topics that men tuned out.
* * *
Clay walked toward the pulpit with a hint of trepidation. A quick glance at the crowd told him a few of the folks who were against him going to Denver last night were sitting in their usual places. There was a chance they might not like his sermon tonight, but he prayed they received it in the way he intended. Perhaps they might even share the sermon with those who decided not to attend. The room was silent as he placed his Bible on the stand, and pulled his notes from his jacket pocket. He glanced around and saw Granny sitting beside Emma, along with Morgan, Jack, and their wives sitting in the first pew. He knew they
were worn-out from traveling, and he appreciated that they had ridden back to town to offer their support.
He took a deep breath, tucked his notes in his jacket pocket, and asked God to give him the right words.
“As you know, last night I was in Denver and that is the reason we are holding a late service. I had the distinct honor and privilege of hearing Miss Emma Langtry perform, along with the famous Italian tenor, Carlo Palladino, and their very accomplished pianist, Andre Hoffman.” He looked at Emma, and said, “We are also fortunate to have Miss Emma Langtry in our congregation tonight.” His gaze briefly slid to Sweetie lying peacefully at Emma’s feet before he locked eyes with her again.
Emma met his gaze. There was something about the way he was looking at her, as if he was trying to say something without words. Their eyes locked for several beats, and people began to glance around, wondering if Clay had forgotten what he was about to say.
Clay cleared his throat. He didn’t know what had just happened, but when his eyes met Emma’s, he didn’t want to look away, but he had to continue. “It’s been said that when we hear angels sing, it will be the most beautiful sound we have ever heard. I’ve never been fortunate to hear actual angels singing, but I think I came as close last night to hearing an angel sing, at least until my time on Earth is done. I’m so thankful Granny Langtry and her family invited me along on that trip to Denver.” He glanced Emma’s way again. “I’ve never heard more beautiful sounds as I heard in the Grand Crystal Hall last night. I think everyone in our church would appreciate the performance of Miss Langtry. The evening didn’t end with the performance. Afterward, we had a pleasant dinner at the hotel, and we had a wonderful discussion with Mr. Palladino and Mr. Hoffman. I learned that they have performed in front of royalty all over Europe.” Clay glanced over the crowd to make certain they were listening. “Carlo, this intelligent, talented man, made a comment that forced me to look at things from a different perspective. I understand the concerns of many about lending support to places where the values of the church are not upheld. But there is another side to that argument. Where better to find lost sheep if not in places where they may be found? They won’t be under the shepherd’s watchful eye. And if we are to live by example, shouldn’t that example also be displayed in the very places where love and compassion may be lacking? Just this morning, I overheard a wise woman say that passing judgment was not her job; she would leave that up to the Lord. We could all benefit from this point of view.” He hesitated again, and took a moment to open his Bible before he looked at the faces again. “I am not a perfect man. We all have done things that we wish we could have a second chance. Many times I’ve considered myself a good man, and blessed beyond measure. I have also done many things I’m not proud of, and have asked for forgiveness. But I know we have to trust that each of us will try to do the right thing, whether we are in church, or in an entertainment establishment. We can’t pass judgment on others since we do not know what is in their hearts. Only our Father has that information. We have been commanded to love one another. Period. No conditions.” He held up his Bible, and said, “I cannot find in here where we are commanded to pass judgment.” He paused, then said, “Miss Langtry, Mr. Palladino, and Mr. Hoffman aim to give people a night they will remember the rest of their lives. They want them to hear music they have never had a chance to hear, for the sheer pleasure of seeing the smiles on their faces. To me, that is showing love to their fellow man.”
Christmas in Whispering Pines Page 6