Spur Giant: Soiled Dove

by Dirk Fletcher

  "But, Father Teasdale, it does matter, to me. I want you to know that I'm truly sorry for those first four years. I wasn't much help around here. Didn't learn much. Just wasted money and lived a soft easy life in the house you built for me and Louisa Mae. Ain't much I can do about that now."

  Louisa Mae rushed in from the door to the living room. She put her arms around Nate where he sat in the chair and kissed his cheek. "I heard what you told Pa, Nate. I'm just so proud of you that I could bust."

  He turned and kissed her lips lightly. "Meant every word of it, Louisa Mae. Love you more now than I ever did. Trying to make up for them four lost years."

  "Now you hush. Look how well Pa is doing. He walked out here with just me to lean on a bit. We figure within a month he'll be taking walks outside with no more help than a whittled cane."

  "I'm thankful, Father Teasdale. Just so pleased. Wish things could be the way they was, but nobody can get that no matter how much we pray. So I'm real proud of you the way you're getting better."

  "Keep my girl happy," Teasdale said.

  "I'll try with all my heart and strength, Father Teasdale."

  "Help me," the old man said.

  Nate helped the frail old man stand, then he put his forearm under the old arm right up to his shoulder and held the hand in front to help him walk back to his temporary bedroom on the ground floor where the guest room used to be. It was fixed up for easy living for the patient.

  Emily saw them coming down the hall and helped. Soon they had the old man safely on his bed and he settled down for a rest.

  Emily went back to the kitchen with Nate. He sipped at his coffee, poured one for Emily and then looked at her.

  "I've got some bad news," he said.

  "You just come from town," Emily said. "It's about Doug, ain't it? Couldn't be any good news about him. He played me for a fool for so long. But once he touched me, started to move his hands over me." She took a long breath. "Oh Lordy, but he was good making me feel so loved."

  "Right, Emily, the news ain't good. Sheriff says it's all but certain now that Doug planned and set up the robbery on that train. The one where the sales contract for the ranch was stolen from the mail. Also stolen was twenty-thousand dollars in new bills. And he arranged for a fake kidnapping of the governor's daughter. He got some bearer bonds the Sheriff says are just like cash and are worth a hundred-thousand dollars."

  Emily shook her head, then held it with both hands, her elbows propped up on the kitchen table. "My Douglas always was a man who thought big."

  "There's more bad news, Emily. Doug is missing and two men in town got themselves shot dead during the night a couple of days back. Anyway, they think Doug is the one who did it. He took off downriver and that Federal guy is chasing him."

  Tears seeped out of Emily's eyes and ran down her plain cheeks. She didn't try to stop them, just sat there crying without making a sound.

  "I'd say that Doug won't ever be back to the ranch. Leastwise, not for a long time. If he gets away he might come back years from now when nobody remembers what happened. If he gets caught, he might decide to fight it out, which means he could be killed or have a trial before Judge Parker."

  Louisa Mae went to Emily and held her shoulders. She glared at Nate. "You didn't have to be so sudden about it. Bad news goes a long ways."

  Nate drank some coffee and nodded. "Know I ain't the best with words. Figured it had to be said. I best get along. Check with the foreman and see how things are moving. We ain't planned the fall roundup yet. Time we get to doing some figuring."

  "Nate Emerson, don't you dare go out that door and leave us like this," Louisa Mae said sharply. "We got to figure something for Emily. You go wash the trail dust off your face and put on a clean shirt. Then we'll talk again."

  Nate looked at his wife. She usually knew what to do at times like this. She was a year older than Emily and had been a mother to her most of her life.

  Nate stood and nodded. "Reckon I could do with some washing up and whatever. Be back here soon."

  When he left the room, Louisa Mae sat beside Emily, had one arm around her shoulders and their heads were close together. They were talking, cooking up something. He figured they'd been doing that since they were just little girls.

  When Nate came back a half hour later, the two women worked over the stove making a batch of biscuits. Nate frowned. How did they get from tragedy, maybe widowhood for Emily, to baking?

  As soon as Louisa Mae saw Nate coming, she left the stove, handed the hot pad to Emily and walked up to meet Nate. She took his hand and turned him toward the door.

  "You and me need to take a little walk. Got some things to talk over."

  Nate frowned. "Things to talk over?"

  Louisa Mae looked back at her sister and shushed him as she pulled Nate out of the kitchen.

  Outside, he stopped and stared down at his pretty, slender wife. "Don't understand you at all. We just talked. What else we got to talk over now?"

  "Important things. We need to decide something, you and me. We always talk about important decisions, right?"

  "Well, sure. I don't think that I own you the way some men do. It's more of a partnership with us, equal shares, equal work, like that."

  "Good, then we'll talk about it."

  He watched her, knowing that Louisa Mae would get to the point when she was ready. She was the smart one in the family. Had been keeping all the stock records and the account books for years. Her pa wasn't much inclined that way.

  They passed the pump house and went up a little incline and then down the other side to where a small feeder stream chattered its way toward the Arkansas.

  Louisa Mae found the right spot and sat down, spreading her skirt over her legs and patting the ground beside her. When he sat down she leaned in and gave him a serious kiss, licking his lips and urging him to open them. He did for a minute and then eased away.

  "We gonna do it right here, Louisa Mae, in broad daylight where anybody could walk up the slope and see us?"

  She laughed. "No. I just want to tell you that I'm proud of you and so pleased that you fessed up about part of the reason you married me. And I want to be sure that you want my body again and again. But not right now."

  Nate scratched his head. "Sometimes you're a total puzzlement, Louisa Mae Teasdale Emerson. I do swear."

  "It's Emily I'm worried about. She is a highly emotional person who likes to have... I mean, she is passionate, she enjoys being with a man. She likes to get poked. It means the world to her."

  Louisa Mae looked at her husband. "Now don't laugh or titter or make funny faces. This is serious. Here is Emily who hasn't slept with her husband for the past six months, and now she finds out he's probably going to get killed or arrested and spend a long time in prison or be hung by Judge Parker's court. She's miserable and I don't blame her."

  Louisa Mae punched her husband in the ribs. "Don't know what I'd do if I didn't get some loving from you every few days. Six months. God, she must be going crazy."

  "Emily ain't exactly a woman to attract a lot of suitors, say if n she is gonna be a widow," Nate said. "She just don't have many prospects for getting remarried, especially with three young'ens."

  "We talked about that. She knows it. We discussed it for some time. Then I did the only thing that a loving, honorable, concerned person could do for her only sister."

  Nate frowned and looked at his wife. "What's that?"

  "We figured that if the Mormons can do it, we can. I want to share you with Emily."

  Nate scowled. "Don't understand no way. You want to share me with Emily? That means I got to split her wood and take care of her house and...."

  "What it means, Nate, is that I want you to share her bed with her, say once a week, give her a good poking."

  Nate leaned back. Surprise, then disbelief broke across his face like a thundercloud. "Share!"

  "Yes. Why not? She won't use you up. She won't give you no disease. You'll still be making love to me
two or three times a week just like always. Maybe even some Sunday afternoons." Louisa Mae hurried on now, not wanting to let him think too much about it.

  "Oh, it won't be legal or nothing. You won't marry her, just kind of service her once a week and keep her happy. You got to figure out just when so she don't get pregnant again, but we got some ways to help along that line. We talked about it."

  "You talked to her about me fucking her?"

  "Hush, you know I don't like that word. But, yes, we talked about it, and I convinced her that it would be all right. She needs a man real bad, and won't hurt you. You told me once you could poke me twice a night all summer long if n I wanted you to. Well, now here's another want I got for you. Now that you heard the idea, what do you think?"

  Nate shook his head. "Five years ago I would have jumped at the chance. Now, I'm older. I don't know. I can see how it would be a help to Emily." He reached in and kissed his wife's lips, then bent and kissed her breast through the fabric of her dress.

  "Just don't want nothing to come between us. You wouldn't get jealous of me popping your sister regular?"

  "Not a bit. I know what it'll mean to her. In the meantime, we have some parties, get some young men out here to dance with her and get to know her. We go to church every Sunday in town and stay for the socials. We try to get her a beau. This is all supposing that Doug gets dead somehow. Pardon my saying it, but he's a rat and a skunk and a robber and a killer I'd think from what you said. I'd just as soon he was dead."

  They sat there looking at each other. Slowly their lips came together. The kiss was soft and gentle and when they parted, she had a smile on her face.

  "Louisa May Teasdale Emerson, you are the finest woman I've ever heard of or read about. A woman who would share her husband with her sister is a truly marvelous human being. I've never heard of anything so loving and giving before in my life."

  "Then you'll do it?"

  "Just until we can find out about Doug, and then if he's dead, until we can find her a beau of her own."

  "That could take months."

  Nate grinned. "When I was seventeen I once had me a different woman every night for a solid week. Damned near killed me. It was a bet. But-" he held up his hands, "since I married you, I've never parted the thighs of another woman, not once, so help me God. If we do this, it's with your urging, right?"

  "Right." Louisa Mae reached in and kissed him. Her hand pushed down to his crotch and rubbed around until she found the start of a hard place. "Oh, I wish I could have you right here, right now. But I promised Emily if you agreed, that you would go upstairs to that spare bedroom and she'd be waiting for you."

  "Oh, damn, right now?"

  "Darling husband. It's been six months for her. Just as a trial run, a practice. We'll see how it goes."

  "Nobody is going to know about this but the three of us, are they?" Nate asked.

  "Absolutely not, no one," Louisa Mae said. "I'm not about to share you with all the widows in Forth Smith." They both laughed.

  When they got back to the kitchen a few minutes later, Emily was not there. They went up the stairs and to the far bedroom.

  "I want you to come in with me," Nate said. "So we all know what's going on. Then I'll want you to leave. No peeking."

  Louisa Mae smiled sweetly. "Darling husband, I know every trick of lovemaking that you have ever used with me. You just be sure to satisfy this nice lady."

  Nate knocked softly and he heard a voice behind the door. He went in first and Louisa Mae came in close behind him. Emily lay in the big bed with covers up to her chin. There was a question on her face.

  "It's all settled, Emily," Louisa Mae said. "At least for now, and if something has happened to Doug, then until we find you a new husband."

  Emily let out a held in breath. She pushed back part of the handmade quilts. She was fully dressed.

  "I'm not taking off all my clothes," she said. "Not at first. I was three months wed before my husband saw me without any clothes on. Something a man has to earn."

  Louisa Mae went to the bed, leaned down and kissed her sister on the cheek.

  "I'm sure everything will be just fine." Louisa Mae turned and hurried out of the room before she started to cry. She wasn't sure if they were tears of joy or wonder or pleasure or what. She knew it was the right thing to do for her sister.

  They were all strong and could work through it. A year from now she hoped and prayed that her widowed sister would be happily remarried. After all, she had done it once. A woman with a dowry of half of a $750,000 ranch shouldn't be too hard to find a husband for.

  Spur McCoy made it back to Fort Smith almost a full day after he left the two dead men on the road downstream from Bayview. He hated to leave the men on the road, but he didn't have time to bury them.

  It had been a long wait for the boat after he arrived at the tiny village with the sawmill where he and Doug had boarded the riverboat. A deputy sheriff stationed there took Spur's report and his eyes widened as he looked at Spur's credentials. He said he'd take a wagon and go bring in the bodies.

  Spur arrived in Fort Smith a little after noon, had a good meal, then went to see Sheriff Booth Grimm. The local lawman listened to the story and twisted his face into a wry grin.

  "Damn, I was hoping you'd kill that bastard Doug Chandler. County don't have much money for trials. Ends it, far as I'm concerned. He killed three people in my county, now the case is closed."

  "Except for the money, and that Railroad Express clerk, Clancy. I still think he was in on it."

  "Some gent came in from Kansas City with a registered letter receipt that matched the one the post office had here. They authorized me to release the nearly nine-thousand dollars the man said he'd sent along as a down payment on the Teasdale place. So I guess that's all settled.

  "He said he wouldn't think of buying a ranch in an area that had as much crime as we have here. Left this morning on the train."

  Spur began pulling the stacks of money from his pockets. Some of it hadn't dried out yet. The sheriff stared.

  "Be damned. You are a rich man."

  "Don't I wish," Spur said. "First we count it, every soggy dollar bill. Better get a witness in here. Then you give me a receipt for it."

  "Then I can turn it over to the governor's man and the new stuff to somebody from the Railway Express, I'd imagine. I'll do some talking and find out the right procedure. It all here? The fifty thousand?"

  "Don't imagine. Figure Chandler spent some of it. Most of the new bills probably here. Let's get a deputy in here and start counting. Be nice to have a table or something where we can spread out the wet money to dry."

  It took them the rest of the afternoon. The wet bills stuck together like they had paste on them.

  The deputy said he'd fallen in a lake once and his cash money stuck together. He let it dry before he took it apart. It wouldn't work. He had to soak it all again and get it wet to get the bills to separate.

  "So looks like we better finish working before it all gets stuck tight," Spur said.

  Only sixty dollars was missing from the new bills of $20,000. When they at last had a count on the money sent for ransom of Amy Hellman, they could find only $27,470.00.

  "Little over twenty-five hundred missing," the sheriff said.

  "Figure some of it could be floating down the Arkansas and the Mississippi by now," Spur said. "Then he spent some for his passage and I don't know what else. Best we can do." Spur had the sheriff sign a receipt for both amounts of cash and had the deputy witness it.

  Spur headed for the best eating spot in town and had gone only a few rods away from the lawman's office when someone fell into step beside him. He looked over and found Lillian, the hotel maid, part time whore, and spy for Doug Chandler.

  She looked over at him, a frown clouding her pretty face.

  "You heard," Spur said.

  "Yes. You didn't have to kill him."

  "You weren't there, you don't know. You want me to charge you with
conspiracy to rob a train and to do murder and pitch you into jail?"

  "No, but I don't think you'd have enough evidence to do that even if you tried."

  "I have all that evidence. You told me about what Doug said."

  Lillian grinned. "Oh, that. Just some strange woman's fanciful imagination. It would be your word against mine. You can't prove I did a damn thing."

  "At least you didn't get me killed. If you had, I'd be really bitched out about it."

  She looked up quickly and saw him grinning. Her smile came back. It was an extremely interesting face. He saw the pure white blouse she wore that stretched tight over her breasts. White blouses like that had been his downfall time and time again. The white ones with peekaboo lace were the worst of the man traps.

  "You had your supper yet?" he asked.

  "No."

  "I could buy. I still have a couple of dollars of expense money left."

  "You mean it? You ain't whiffed-off at me?"

  Spur chuckled. He could afford to relax a little. He had only one small problem to clear up. Tomorrow would be time enough for that.

  "Lillian, if whiffed-off means mad at you, I'm not. I'd have to say you're just a working girl trying to make a few bucks. So how about supper?"

  "Where we going? One place won't let me in the door."

  "Hey, if you're with me, you can get in any place. What one tries to keep you out?"

  "The Arkansas Royal Cafe."

  "That's where we're going."

  Spur opened the door and let Lillian walk in a step ahead of him. He saw an officious head waiter move toward her. Spur caught him in midstride and tapped him on the shoulder. The smaller man turned and the frown on his face relaxed into an expression of pure duty.

  "My friend here and I would like your best table," Spur said in an icy tone that could bring a chill to the toughest gunman in the land.

  "Yes ...yes sir, Mr. McCoy. I heard you tracked down that Doug Chandler."

  Spur didn't comment, just held out his hand pointing the way into the dining room.

  They ate the best roast beef dinner on the menu and sipped a moderately dry, red wine.