Town Tamers

by David Robbins

  “I never would, Weldon.”

  “When this is over I think I’ll take out the switch,” Knox said, and had the satisfaction of seeing stark fear grip her.

  “Not that. Please.”

  “You need to be reminded every now and then of your proper place.”

  Esther was quiet a while and then said softly, “I never expected this when I married you. You were nice when you courted me. You never once let on that—” She stopped.

  “Finish it.”

  “No.”

  “I will by-God beat you black and blue if you don’t.”

  “Very well. You never once let on that you’d treat me as you do and beat me as you do.” Esther sadly gazed out over their ranch and gave a mild start.

  “What?” Knox asked, looking in the same direction. “Do you see Bull and the rest?”

  “No. I thought I saw—” A peculiar expression came over her and Esther said, “I’m not sure what I saw.”

  “Females,” Knox spat.

  Esther clasped her small fingers and unclasped them and remarked, “I remember hearing you menfolk talk once.”

  “Just once?” Knox said sarcastically.

  “You were in the kitchen. Bull Cumberland and that awful Jake Bass and Old Tom and you.”

  “We talk a lot,” Knox said.

  “It was about riding the high-lines, as Bull Cumberland called it, and how he always had to be on the lookout for lawmen and hostiles and whatnot.”

  “I’m sure there’s a point to this.”

  “He mentioned how he watched for flashes of light. He said the sun shining off a rifle barrel always gave his enemies away. Do you think that’s true?”

  “Of course it is.”

  “Did you send all the men into town?”

  Knox had his full attention on the road and was annoyed by her babble. “Listen to your chatter. You bounce around all over the place.”

  “Did you?”

  “Some of the men are out on the range with the herd.”

  “Can you think of any reason they would point a rifle at us?”

  Knox turned his head. “Have you been drinking? I know you sneak a nip now and then.”

  “Every day,” Esther said. “It helps get me through the nightmare of being married to you.”

  Knox couldn’t credit his ears. “Do you want to be beat worse than ever?”

  “What I want, what I pray,” Esther said, “is for that flash to mean what I think it means. Foolish of me, I know. I don’t believe in miracles.”

  “What flash?”

  Esther jumped at the loud thwack that preceded by a heartbeat the crack of a far-off shot. Her husband’s head smacked against the rocker and some of his hair and bits of bone and gobs of brain splattered the wall. She sat perfectly still as the husk that had just a few seconds ago been the man she’d said “I do” to oozed out of the rocker onto the porch.

  “My word,” was all Esther said.

  She looked toward where she had seen the flash and was taken aback when a rider appeared. She gripped the chair arms to rise and was shocked to realize the gender of the rider and sank back down.

  “My word,” she said again.

  An attractive young woman with raven hair on a fine bay and a rifle across her saddle came as casually as you please up to the porch. “How do you do,” she said.

  “My word,” Esther replied.

  “You’re not in hysterics, are you?”

  “Why would I be?”

  The young woman nodded at Weldon.

  “Oh, him,” Esther said. She stood and stepped to the rail. “How about if I invite you in for tea or coffee?”

  “I just shot your husband.”

  “And I thank you for that.”

  The young woman studied Esther and then said, “I should head back.”

  Esther pointed at the body. “For twenty-seven years I’ve been married to that man, and not once in all that time did he let me have a female friend over.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “I would be ever so pleased if you would visit for a bit. And don’t you worry. I’ll never tell a soul that I saw you here. I’m Esther Weldon, by the way, but I imagine you already know that.”

  The young woman considered a few moments, then said, “I’m Noona Carter.” She seemed to catch herself. “Sorry. Noona Delaware.”

  “You’re kin to that Town Tamer?”

  “He’s my pa.”

  “Which is it? Carter or Delaware?”

  “It’s complicated,” Noona said.

  “I have all day,” Esther said, and a slow smile brightened her haggard face. “I can do as I please now.”

  “The short of it is that Carter is the family name, but given what we do for a living, our enemies might track us down if they know who we really are. So Pa picked a name he hates just for town taming.”

  “I think I see.”

  Noona raised her reins. “I’m sorry I can’t stay, ma’am. My pa wanted to be sure it was over. He expects me back, or he’ll get worried and come after me.”

  “Good day to you, then. And thank you, young lady. You have made me happier than you can possibly know.”

  “It’s nice to make someone smile for once. Usually killing someone doesn’t do that.” Noona wheeled her bay. “Adios.”

  Esther stood and watched until the attractive young woman dwindled in the distance. “What a sweet girl,” she said. She started toward the screen door but stopped to look at the body. “I was wrong, Weldon. Miracles do happen. Good riddance to you, you piece of shit.”

  Humming to herself, Esther went inside.

  28

  The town council met in what they called their Municipal Chambers, a room above the general store with a high platform for the council members and chairs for everyone else.

  Asa Delaware sat in the front row with Byron and Noona at his elbows. The Winchester was propped against his chair.

  George Tandy rapped with a gavel and announced, “This meeting is now in session.”

  Over a dozen townsfolk had turned out. The other hundred or so couldn’t be bothered.

  “Now, then,” Tandy said. “Our first order of business is to extend our appreciation to Mr. Asa Delaware for the splendid job he did cleaning up our town.”

  “I’d appreciate the other half of my fee,” Asa said.

  Thaddeus Falk wagged a bony finger at him. “You’re lucky we’re paying you another red cent, the mess you made. A mess, I might add, we had to clean up ourselves.”

  “It’s your town,” Asa said.

  “Show a little respect,” Horace Wadpole said.

  “I show as much as I’m given.”

  Wadpole turned red and opened his mouth to respond, but just then Asa picked up the Winchester shotgun and set it in his lap. Wadpole closed his mouth and glowered.

  “As for your money,” George Tandy said, “the treasurer will pay you when this meeting is adjourned.” He gazed at the townspeople. “Our second order of business is a new marshal. We intend to put out the word that we’re seeking a new lawman and expect to interview qualified applicants over the next month or two.”

  “The sooner we have a new marshal, the safer everyone will feel,” Falk said.

  “That leaves the last item on our agenda,” Tandy said. “We’d intended to call Weldon Knox before this body and inform him that as soon as we have our new marshal, we would have him arrested on a variety of charges. But as all of you have probably heard, he committed suicide. We sent a man out to the Circle K with our demand for him to appear, and his wife informed our messenger that he shot himself after he heard that his desperados had met the fate they deserved.”

  Asa Delaware looked at Noona.

  “So with that out of the way, and due to the long hours w
e’ve been putting in, we’ll cut this meeting short and adjourn unless someone has something pressing they must bring to our attention.”

  No one did.

  Tandy rapped the gavel, and the council rose and filed out. The townspeople trailed after them. Several smiled at the town tamers, and an older man came over to Asa and said, “I’d like to shake your hand.”

  Last to go was the treasurer, after giving Asa a poke with the five hundred dollars. Asa never took a bank draft or a check. It had to be real money. Jingling it, he stuck it in an inside pocket of his slicker.

  “‘The dragons are dead, the slayers have triumphed,’” Byron quoted.

  “You slayed your share,” Asa said.

  “Don’t remind me.”

  Noona changed the subject by asking, “Why do you reckon the widow did that—lie about Knox shooting himself?”

  “I don’t rightly know,” Asa said.

  “She knew it was me. She was right there. She talked to me.”

  “You told us,” Asa said.

  “She took it so calmly. I’ve never seen the like.”

  “Live to my age and you’ll see a lot of strange things,” Asa predicted. “People are always full of surprises.”

  “Coming from you,” Byron said, “that’s almost profound.”

  “Keep goading me,” Asa said.

  “What will you do? Hit me?”

  “I’ve never struck you in your life, boy, and you know it. You don’t hurt family, ever.”

  “You turned my sister and me into killers before we were mature enough to realize what you’d done.”

  “Keep me out of this,” Noona said.

  “I taught you to be town tamers,” Asa said to Byron. “That’s not hurt.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, Pa,” Byron said, “I’m hurting like hell.”

  “What hurts is that you’d like to live in the clouds with your poems and you hate being brought down to earth.”

  “You are damn right I hate it.”

  Asa rounded on him. “Watch your tone around your sister. If you took some pride in your work, you’d be better off.”

  Byron laughed. “First, it’s not work. It’s killing. And second, you’re a fine one to talk about pride. You don’t even use your real name.”

  “And you know why.”

  “So the kin and friends of those we exterminate can’t come after us. But that’s only part of it.”

  “How so?”

  “You could have picked any fake name. But you chose Delaware. And the reason you did is to rub your Indian half in the faces of those who hate Indians.”

  “I’ve never been a cheek-turner, boy,” Asa said. “If some folks are going to hate me for something I’m not, I’m going to hate them right back.”

  “Your whole life has become about hate.”

  “That’s going too far,” Asa said, “and we’re done talking about it.” He shouldered the Winchester and strode out.

  “Must you goad him so?” Noona said.

  “I’m sorry, sis,” Byron said. “I can’t seem to help myself.”

  “Did you ever stop to think that he can’t, either?”

  Byron appeared shocked. He was slow to answer with, “No, I didn’t.” He stared at the empty doorway. “Hell,” he said.

  29

  A letter was waiting for Asa at the boardinghouse. Ethel gave it to him, saying, “This came about half an hour ago.”

  Asa had his mail forwarded by his sister in Austin. He had post office boxes for both Asa Carter and Asa Delaware, and his sister had access and made sure any letters caught up to him.

  He didn’t open the envelope until he was in his room. He was supposed to pack so they could head home, but after reading it he sat on the bed and pondered until a knock on his door roused him.

  “We’re ready when you are,” Noona said as she and Byron entered.

  “I’d like my share of the money first,” Byron said.

  Asa always gave each of them a third. Noona was saving hers and had quite a nest egg. He didn’t know what Byron did with his.

  “I’ll be heading east soon after we get back,” Byron said, jingling his poke.

  “Any chance I can interest you in one last job?” Asa said.

  “No.”

  “What was in the letter you got?” Noona asked.

  Asa unfolded it. “How about I read it to you?”

  “Go ahead,” Noona said.

  “I don’t care what its says,” Byron declared. “I’m not changing my mind.”

  “It’s from a Cecilia Preston in Ordville, Colorado,” Asa revealed.

  “Isn’t that a mining town?” came from Noona.

  “Silver,” as Asa recollected. “A man by the name of Ordville struck one of the richest veins ever found. The mine produces tons of it a year.”

  “Colorado is a long way from Texas,” Noona said.

  “Let me read it.” Asa wet his throat. “‘Mr. Asa Delaware. Dear sir. My name is Cecilia Preston. I’m writing on behalf of Ordville. We would like for you to come and tame our town. There are bad men here. Come in person as soon as you can. Thank you. Cecilia Preston.’”

  “That’s it?” Byron said, and laughed.

  “She sounds sort of simpleminded,” Noona said.

  “Postscript,” Asa read. “You will be paid five thousand dollars to tame Ordville. Please come quick.”

  Byron whistled.

  “That’s more than we’ve earned for any job, ever,” Noona said.

  “It is,” Asa said.

  “Will you take it or not?”

  “I’ve been sitting here thinking,” Asa said. “Five thousand is a lot of money. With your brother wanting to go off on his own—”

  “Don’t involve me,” Byron interrupted.

  “—I was thinking I would take my usual three hundred and you two can split the rest.”

  “No,” Byron said.

  “That would come to over twenty-three hundred dollars for each of you,” Asa calculated.

  “I don’t do this for the money,” Noona said. “But that is an awful lot.”

  “Damn it,” Byron said.

  “We’ve never been to Colorado, though,” Noona noted. “Wyoming, that once. And Arkansas that time. But mostly we work in Texas.”

  “Colorado’s no different than any other place,” Asa said. “A town is a town.”

  “It’s a long way.”

  “Wyoming was farther.”

  “I’m not objecting,” Noona said. “I’ll do it if you do it.”

  “Thanks.” Asa looked at his son.

  “No,” Byron said, with a lot less conviction than before.

  “Twenty-three hundred to bankroll your new life,” Noona said.

  “I don’t care,” Byron said.

  “One last taming.”

  “Don’t do this.”

  “If he doesn’t want to,” Asa said, “leave him be. He’s a grown man now, as he keeps reminding us.”

  Noona placed a hand on her brother’s arm. “If you won’t do it for him, do it for me.”

  “I hate you,” Byron said.

  “Twenty-three hundred,” she said again.

  “I’m not you, sis. I don’t like blowing people’s brains out anymore.”

  “I’ll help Pa blow out the brains if that’s what bothering you. I just want your company.”

  Byron stepped to the window and stared down at the street, and sighed. “‘But ever and anon of griefs subdued there comes a token like a Scorpion’s sting,’” he quoted.

  “Is that a yes or a no?” asked Noona.

  “I’ll go,” Byron said. “For you, not for him. But I won’t kill. I am done with killing, now and forever. Whatever else I can do, I will.”

&n
bsp; Noona grinned, went over, and pecked him on the cheek. “Thank you. You won’t regret it.”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  “Honestly, boy,” Asa said, rising. “You are gloom itself. We’ve done this how many times? We’ll take the usual precautions.”

  “Nothing will go wrong,” Noona said.

  “I hope not,” Byron said and turned to Asa. “But if it does, I have your epitaph.”

  “I don’t need one.”

  “Listen,” Byron said, and quoted with, “‘Thy days are done, thy strains begun. Thy country’s strains record the triumphs of her chosen Son, the slaughters of his sword. The deeds he did, the fields he won, the freedoms he restored.’”

  “I just don’t understand you sometimes,” Asa said.

  “Enough of that.” Noona raised her hand as if she held a glass. “To Colorado,” she said happily, “and the last hurrah of the Delawares.”

  30

  They took a train to Denver. Or, rather, a series of trains, since they had to switch a couple of times. It was only possible because earlier that year the Fort Worth and Denver Railway had completed their line and commenced service.

  Noona was delighted. Usually they rode horseback to the next town or took stagecoaches if it was far off. She liked to ride a horse but not for days at a time, and she could only take the confines of a bouncing stage for so long before she wanted to jump out.

  The train cars swayed a little now and then, and there was the constant chug of the engine and the clack of the rails, but all in all, it was as comfortable as could be compared to horseback and a stage.

  “This is grand,” she said as they took their seats in the dining car. “This is awful grand.”

  “Unusual for you,” Byron said to Asa, almost as if it were an accusation.

  “If it’s to be our last time together,” Asa said, “we might as well make it special.”

  “No if,” Byron said. “It is.”

  “What will you do? How will you make a living?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Byron said, “but anything is better than blowing out brains.”

  “Not that again.”

  Noona smacked the table so hard, their glasses of water shook. “No, you don’t. I won’t put up with it. Byron, you keep what’s eating you to yourself. Pa, don’t bring up how he feels. We’re going to get along if it kills us.”