Brady took her arm and led her back to the table and shoved her at Deke when he stood.
“Here’s your girl. Thanks for the loan.”
With a feeling of anger and frustration Brady strode back along the booths toward the bar. As he approached it, he was suddenly knocked off his feet by a meaty fist that slammed into his face.
Chapter 14
WHILE BRADY WAS DANCING WITH MARGIE, two men had come into the PowWow and moved down the bar to stand behind a big, rough man in a billed cap.
“That was a shitty thin’ to do,” one of the men said to the other. “Slashin’ a man’s truck tires is low as ya can get.”
“Yeah, ’specially when he’s got a load in the back.”
The man in the billed cap turned slowly around. “Whater ya talkin’ ’bout?”
“We was sittin’ out front and seen that feller there dancing with the blonde in the blue dress come out and slash a tire on a Model A truck with a side door off. I was sayin’ it was a shitty thin’ to do.”
“Sounds like my truck.” The big man slid off the stool. “If it was, I’m tearin’ his head off. Back in a minute,” he said to the barkeep.
Homer and Chester followed the man outside and heard his roar of rage when he saw his tire.
“That’s a damn shame,” Chester exclaimed.
“Can we help ya change the tire, mister?” Homer asked. “I’ll change the damn tire after I take the head off that son of a bitch!” The big man headed back into the bar.
Homer and Chester followed. The trucker waited until Brady left the dance floor and approached the bar before he stepped out and planted his heavy fist in his face.
The unexpected blow caught Brady flat-footed. He scarcely saw the man as he backpedaled to gain his balance. The next blow knocked him to the floor. He bounced to his feet like a cat.
“What the hell is the matter with you?”
Brady threw up an arm to weather the windmilling attack of arms and fists. He sidestepped and swung a jarring right to the mouth of his assailant. The blow would have stopped a bigger man, but it merely slowed down the trucker, who let out a bellow of rage and came at Brady again.
“Out! Get the hell out!” The shout came from the bar-keep, Booger, who waded in between them swinging a shotgun. “Take your fight outside.”
“I don’t know what’s got his ass up, but if he wants to fight, we’ll fight.” Brady wiped the blood from his mouth on his shirtsleeve.
“Ya know, ya goddamn tire slasher!” the trucker shouted.
Brady backed out of the doorway and into the space in front of the honky-tonk. While he eyed the man who wanted to whip him, a fierce love of battle welled up inside him. It had been a year or two since he had a good fight, and he was in the mood for it. He didn’t know and didn’t care what the man’s bitch was. If he wanted a fight, he’d get one.
The trucker, tall as Brady but outweighing him by forty pounds, rolled up his sleeves. His friends gathered around him shouting encouragement.
Deke, Jody behind him, spilled out the door and hurried to him. “What’s going on?” Deke asked Brady.
“I’ve no idea. The man wants a fight.”
“Get outta the way, Deke. No need you gettin’ hurt.”
“Brady’s with me, Booger. Ya think I’ll stand back and let that bunch beat him up?”
“It’ll be one-on-one. We’ll see it’s a fair fight—fer yore sake, Deke, ’cause he came here with ya.” Booger cradled his shotgun in his arms. “If it was my tire he slashed, I’d stomp his ass in the ground.”
“Whatta ya mean? Slashed whose tires?”
“The low-down polecat was seen slashin’ Miller Evans’s tire.”
“That’s a damn lie.” Brady stepped out and pushed Deke behind him. “Who says they saw me?”
“Two fellers came in and told me they saw ya doin’ it,” Evans said, “and I’m taking the price of that tire outta yore hide.”
“They lied, but if you want a fight, come on, ya big blowhard.” Brady’s eyes blazed with a leaping light, and his teeth bared a little.
“Wait, Brady! Wait!” Jody was tugging on Brady’s arm. “Your tires have been slashed too.”
“What?” Turning his back on the trucker, Brady went to where he had parked his car. All four tires were flat. The car was sitting on the rims. “Son of a bitch!”
“Here’s the sheriff. Take over here, McChesney,” Booger called. “I’ve got to get back inside.”
“What’s the problem?”
“How ya doin’, Rex?” Deke said. “Miller Evans come plowin’ into my friend here accusin’ him of tire slashin’. His truck wasn’t even here when we got here. Brady was in the PowWow with me all the blessed time. ’Sides, his tires were slashed too.”
“What makes you think this fellow slashed your tire, Evans?”
“He was seen doin’ it, Sheriff. Some fellers came in the bar and told me.”
“Loaded pretty heavy tonight, aren’t you?”
“No more than usual. Got some feed to take to the ranch.”
“Got anything under the feed, Evans?”
“Ah, hell, Rex. Maybe a bottle or two. Ain’t nothin’ to get in a sweat over.”
“Where are the men who told you they saw this man slash your tire?”
“I don’t know. ’Round here somewheres.”
“Find them.”
“Hell, Rex. You takin’ his side?”
“I’m not takin’ any side. Find the men.” The sheriff, a tall, thin man with sharp blue eyes, focused them on Brady. “Who are you?”
“Brady Hoyt. Just passing through.”
“He’s staying at the campground, Rex,” Deke said.
“Yeah? Don’t suppose anyone saw who slashed his tires. It isn’t likely he did it himself.”
Miller Evans came out of the bar. He eyed Brady but spoke to the sheriff. “The fellers who told me left when the fight started.”
“Someone around here got a grudge against you, Mr. Hoyt?”
“I only got here today. I don’t know anyone except Deke.”
The sheriff took off his hat and scratched his head. “What’d these fellows look like, Evans?”
“I don’t know. One was young, other’n a little older. Offered to help me change the tire. Seemed nice.”
“If they were pulling a fast one, they would be. It appears to me that they wanted to stir up a little excitement, and both of you got suckered into it.”
“Suckered, hell! I’m out four good tires and tubes,” Brady said angrily. “And I owe that hotheaded dungheap a sock in the mouth.” He glared at the trucker, who stood slightly behind the sheriff.
“Then come on and give it your best shot!” Evans stepped out, stood on spread feet and glared at Brady.
“Calm down.” McChesney stepped between the two men. “You should have asked a few questions, Evans, before you started swinging your fists.”
“Well, hell. You’da done the same. Fellers said that they saw him do it.”
“I wouldn’t have gone off half-cocked like you did. You owe the man an apology.”
“Apology? Hell, I’ll not be belly-crawlin’ for nobody. But … I’ll help ya change the tires if ya got any to change to.”
“I’m not be needin’ help from the likes of you,” Brady growled.
“Evans, I’ll help ya put your spare on, then ya can take me back to the garage,” Deke said. “We’ll pick up some tires for Brady.”
“The son of a bitch even ruined my spare,” Brady exclaimed.
Now that the excitement was over, the onlookers wandered back into the bar. The sheriff was speaking to his deputy, who had driven up. When he finished, he turned to Brady.
“My deputy said that two fellows in a coupe hightailed it out of town a while ago. If they are Evans’s witnesses, they’re long gone by now. Sorry this happened to you in our town, Hoyt.”
“Yeah, well, so am I.”
McChesney turned to the trucker. “This settle
d, Evans?”
“Hell no. It won’t be settled till I get my hands on those two shitheads that did this.”
“Good luck.”
While Deke helped Evans get his spare tire and wheel out of the truck, Brady squatted beside his front tire and wondered if any of the tires would be usable even with a heavy boot placed inside over the hole. If he had to buy four new tires and four new tubes, it was going to take a big bite out of his travel money. When he stood, Margie was beside him holding out a wet towel.
“Thanks.” He held it to his face, wiped his cut chin, then his hands. Margie avoided his eyes. He continued to wipe his hands and look at her.
Thinking that she must say something, she said, “I asked the bartender for it.”
“You went up to the bar?”
“Sure,” she said, raising her chin. “I know my way around bars and speakeasies. Even brothels.”
In spite of his cut lip, Brady had to grin.
“Don’t go back in there by yourself.” He waited a minute, his eyes holding her defiant ones. “You’re not going to argue?”
“No. I’ve taken care of myself for a long time. I don’t need your advice.”
“Where’s Mona and Rusty?”
“Over there.” She jerked her head to the side of the building where the couple were standing face-to-face, Rusty’s hands on her shoulders.
“Smoochin’?”
“And if they are?”
“I’m jealous.”
“Of … Rusty?”
“No, because I’m not smoochin’ with you. Don’t,” he said when she turned away. “Give them a little time alone. Do you want to wait in the car?”
“We’re goin’ back to the garage, darlin’,” Deke said before she could answer. “Do you want to go or stay here?”
“I’ll stay with Mona and Rusty.”
“Keep an eye on her, Brady. I’ll bring back boots for the tires and tubes that will get you back to the campground.”
“I’ll jack up the front end and get the wheels off.”
“The trucker is taking Deke back to the garage. Jody’s helping Brady take the wheels off the front of his car.”
“Anyone paying attention to us?” Rusty whispered close to Mona’s ear.
“Brady and Margie looked our way a while ago. But he’s busy now, and she’s watching him and Jody.”
“Will you scream if I kiss you?” Rusty leaned against the building, drew her close and buried his nose in her hair.
“You won’t know unless you try.”
“I think I will.”
“I’ll not argue …” Her voice was a mere whisper against his mouth.
The warm pressure of his lips sent her senses spinning. They covered hers lightly, his tongue caressing the edge of her mouth. Her arms slid around his neck.
“Soft, sweet, delicious.” His voice was no more than a sigh.
“Hummm …” A sweet, almost unbearable pain unfolded in Mona’s stomach.
“Did you like that, sweet girl?” “I love it. I’ve only kissed one other boy, and I … didn’t like it much.”
“He probably wasn’t as good a kisser as I am.”
“I suppose you’ve had a lot of practice.”
“Yeah, lots.” He laughed. “One time. I missed the mark and kissed her eye.”
She giggled softly. “I’m glad you’re not an expert. I might not be able to stand it.”
“I never thought I’d ever meet a girl like you. I hoped I would.”
She lifted her palms and caressed his face. “Then you like me … a little?”
“More than a little, sweet girl. But I don’t want you to get too fond of me. I’m never going to see, Mona.”
“I wish you could, even though you might not like me if you could see me and compare me to other girls.”
“Don’t say that,” he scolded, and hugged her tightly to him. “I see you in my mind. Sweetheart, fifty years from now when I’m bald and have lost my teeth, you’ll look the same to me.”
“Do you think we’ll know each other then?”
“I would like to think so. Do I dare kiss you again? Is anyone looking?”
“Jody, but he knows—”
“Knows what?”
“That I … like you.”
“Do you go around kissing fellows you don’t like?”
“All the time.”
They laughed joyfully and decided that this was the happiest night of their lives.
“Let’s get out of here. If that cowboy sees yore face, he’ll know it was you who slashed his tires.” Chester drove down the dusty road and pulled out onto the highway five miles west of town.
“All right. I’ve had my fun for now. We’ll wait for them in Amarillo.”
“I’m not going to Amarillo,” Chester said angrily. “I’ve got to get this car home to Mama.”
“We’ll send her a telegram. Tell her that you had a call to come to Amarillo. Gordon needed you.”
“Gordon? Hell, we’ve not heard from him in ten years.”
“That’s why I said Gordon. She said at Grandpa’s burial she had a longin’ to see her oldest boy.”
“Gordon’s probably dead by now.”
“Don’t matter. It’ll give us time in Amarillo to hit a few places and wait for the cowboy. Granny’ll think yore out doin’ good work helpin’ her long-lost boy.”
“I shouldn’t’ve took her car.”
“You still moanin’ ’bout that?”
“I ain’t anxious to be robbin’ more stores either. I ain’t wantin’ to do no jail time, and I ain’t wantin’ to get shot.”
“Christ, Uncle Chester. What money we got in Elk City ain’t goin’ to last hardly no time a-tall.”
“Ya got more’n fifty from that grocery store.”
Homer laughed. “That was slicker than snot. The fool never knowed what hit him. I was in and outta there like a scalded cat.”
“Ya’d better not hurt nobody too bad. I ain’t for hurtin’ anybody.”
“Shitfire, Uncle Chester. Ya got no more guts than a crawly worm. Ya got to hurt folks once in a while, or they ain’t goin’ to respect ya.”
“Yo’re crazy.”
“Might be, but I’m havin’ a hell of a lot of fun. After I get a bit more money in my pocket, I’m goin’ to find me a woman and have me a high old time. I ain’t forgot the cowboy’s blond babe, mind ya. I can wait. When the time is right, I’ll screw her into the ground.”
“All ya got on yore mind is that cowboy and screwin’ women. Beats all I ever did see.”
Chapter 15
SHE HEARD A ROOSTER CROWING.
Margie flipped the sheet up over her head. She didn’t want to open her eyes and start another day. They had returned to camp last night after midnight, and sleep hadn’t come until several hours later. She had lain wide awake for what seemed hours trying to sort out the emotions that were pressing down on her. The events of the past few days were crushing her spirit.
She was disgusted with herself. She was a fool. She was so mad she could scream. She stifled a groan as her mind began summoning back, in feverish detail, the feel of Brady’s breath on her face, his arms and how she had melted into them, letting the music wash over her. She had wanted to stay there in his arms forever.
How she could have these thoughts about a man who thought so little of her was the most demoralizing of all.
Margie’s common sense told her what she should do, but she seriously doubted that she had the nerve to do it. When they reached Amarillo, she should ask Elmer to let her off in the downtown area. She had no doubt that he would do it. She’d take a bus to California. Then let him explain where she was to the Putmans and to Brady, if they should ask.
She thought briefly of asking Deke if she could stay a few days, help his mother in the garden, then take the bus to California. On second thought, she realized that she couldn’t impose on their hospitality.
Right now she had to figure out how to get through the da
y while avoiding Brady and keeping the others from knowing how really desperate she was.
After breakfast she approached the back of Deke’s house, where Alvin was heating water in the iron pot for Grace to do her washing. Margie was relieved to learn that Brady had driven with Deke and Foley to Elk City to find a radiator for Foley’s car and tires for his. Jody and Rusty had been left in charge of the gas pump and sat on a bench in front of the garage. Rusty was brushing the burs out of Blackie’s thick coat of fur.
After washing her own clothes in a bucket and hanging them on the line, Margie pitched in to help Grace, who had not only her family’s wash but Anna Marie’s and Brady’s as well.
Grace washed the clothes in the iron tub with a scrub-board, all the while chatting with Mrs. Bales.
“My watermelon pickles are good. I won a blue ribbon at the fair one year, a red the next. I’ll be hornswoggled if I know what happened that time. Do you soak the rind in lime and cold water to crisp them up before you cook them?”
“Always. Do you add ground cloves or whole?”
“Whole. Stick cinnamon too.”
The two talked as if they had known each other forever. After she had washed a piece of clothing, Grace wrung it out and dropped it in the rinse water. Margie rinsed each piece, wrung it out and hung it on the line.
Anna Marie played happily on the porch, basking in the attention of Mrs. Bales, who had cut a string of paper dolls out of newspaper.
“I saw the chicken with three legs,” Anna Marie called out to Margie. “One leg is little and just hangs down. Wanna see? I know where it is.”
“As soon as we get through here, honey, we’ll take a look at it. Are these yours too?” Margie asked Grace, indicating a pile of clothes on the end of the porch.
“They’re Mona’s. She’s washing for herself and Jody. There was a fuss raised when Miss Sugar tried to add hers to the pile. Mona told her daddy in no uncertain terms that she was not washing Sugar’s clothes. That man has sure got himself into a mess with that one.”
“Good for Mona. I’ve not seen Sugar lift a hand to do anything but primp.”
“She was honeyin’ up to Brady this morning. I think she wanted to go to Elk City with the men.”
Dorothy Garlock - [Route 66] Page 16