The Sixth Western Novel

by Jackson Gregory

  The room contained several chairs, a bed and two dressers. There was a familiarity here: the pictures on the walls and the curtains covering the three windows. Then he remembered them being in her room in the old house on Wells Street. Sometimes when he was waiting for Sally to dress, he would talk to her, sitting on the edge of her bed while she cut clothes patterns on the floor. Now that he thought about it, he remembered spending a great deal of time waiting for Sally. And while he waited, he had talked to Tess.

  He heard her footsteps and then she came back, toeing the door closed. “I ordered you a meal from the restaurant next door.” She motioned toward the bed. “Sit down, Reilly.”

  He smiled, for she always said this. Indicating the furniture, he said, “Did she throw you out of the house, Tess?”

  A pained expression crossed her face but she covered her feelings with a laugh and sat in a deep chair. “Reilly, there never was enough room in one house for two women, especially when they both figure they own it.”

  “There was plenty of room before Burk married her.”

  “That was before,” Tess agreed. “I knew it wouldn’t work, Reilly, so I took my things and moved in here.”

  “After she asked you to?”

  She gnawed her lower lip for a moment, jumping up when a knock rattled the back door. She seemed relieved with the interruption and went out of the room to admit a man bearing a large tray. The wall hid them from Reilly’s view, but he heard her soft voice say, “Just set it on the table, Mose,” and a moment later the man went out.

  Carrying it into her room, she placed it on a low table between them, whisking off the white towel. “Steak,” she said, and reached across the table to touch him on the arm. “Reilly, things really do change and it does no good to worry about them. Just forget about what has happened and think about tomorrow.”

  “A nice trick if you can do it,” he said, and began to eat.

  After the meal, Tess rose to fix a pot of coffee on the small stove in the corner. She kindled a fire and placed the pot on the back by the pipe. Tipping his chair back, Reilly watched her while rolling a cigarette to top off his dinner.

  “You sure are trying hard to keep me from seeing her, aren’t you?”

  “I’m trying to keep you out of trouble,” Tess said. She gave him a sharp glance. “You have a temper like heat lightning and if you didn’t shoot Burk, you’d try to fight him with your fists and you’ve done that before, but always lost. Beating Burk in a fight is something no one has done, Reilly. He’s built up a nice reputation around here, believe me.”

  “You’re wrong if you think I’m looking for trouble,” Reilly told her. “I said that I’d learned a lesson. From now on I’m leaving people alone. I meant it when I said I didn’t want trouble from anyone.”

  “It sometimes comes looking for you.”

  “This time I’ll step aside,” he promised. He leaned forward then, his manner changing. “What made her do it, Tess?”

  The girl shrugged. “She never liked to wait, you know that. It pleased her to have people wait for her, but never the other way around.”

  “She knew I’d come back,” Reilly said. “I promised her, Tess. You were there. You heard me promise her.”

  “You promised a lot of things and some of them didn’t come out,” she said. The coffee pot began to gurgle. She lifted the lid, then stood with her arms crossed under her breasts. “You’ve changed, Reilly. I think you’d fulfill a promise now.” She gave him a wide smile. “See how canny I’ve gotten since I’ve grown up? I’m not the little girl you can tell tall stories to any more.”

  He smiled at her in spite of the seriousness of his thoughts. She was like mercury, never still. Her mind raced ahead, touching things, liking some, rejecting others. She had a natural exuberance that no amount of unpleasantness could dim for long.

  “I’ve been noticing,” Reilly said, “that you’ve filled out some. It seems that Burk Seever’s been noticing it too.”

  “Then you can see why I couldn’t live under the same roof with Sally and him.” She switched the subject deftly. “What was it like, Reilly? Bad?”

  “Prison? Pretty bad. Once a man’s in jail he becomes just another animal.” He stared at the ash on his cigarette, then rose to throw it in the stove. “Tell me, is Harry Peters still the U.S. marshal?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I think he was genuinely sorry about the deal you got, but you did the shooting in California and there was nothing he could do about it.”

  “Sure,” Reilly said. He stared at the fire through the damper opening. “I get four years breaking rocks for trying to get back what was stolen from me in the first place, and Winehaven, who has a stockyard full of stolen beef is still in business. That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Harry Peters has made three raids on Winehaven’s place and never found a thing that wasn’t covered with a bill of sale. You figure it out, Reilly. No one else can.”

  “It’s not my problem any more,” he said flatly. “I had four years to think this thing over and I made up my mind that I wasn’t going to try to get even with anybody.” He turned his head and looked at her. She remained half-turned toward him as though inviting his appraisal. Finally he pulled his eyes away and filled two coffee cups. “You used to sit like that, watching me” he said. “I often wondered what you were thinking, less,”

  “Did you?” She stood up, a half-smile lifting the ends of her lips. When she came near him she set his cup aside and he took her arm, pulling her against him. She did not fight him, but answered the pressure of his lips and the pull of his hands around the curved hips.

  After they parted she studied him gravely. “Were you thinking of Sally?”

  “I was thinking of you,” he said.

  “Then it’s all right,” she said. The sun was down now and gray shadows began to invade the corners of the room. She moved about, lighting the lamps. Finishing his coffee, Reilly stood up and walked back and forth as though a deep restlessness pushed him.

  Tess Isham watched this for several minutes, then said, “You don’t have to stay.”

  His pacing stopped. “Tess, it isn’t that at all.” From her expression he was sure that he hadn’t convinced her.

  “I understand, Reilly. Give me credit for it.” She began to stack the dishes on the tray. Gathering a shawl from the closet, she moved to the door, pausing with her hand on the knob. “Wait here.”

  “Where are you going?”

  She regarded him levelly. “Out. Just wait here.”

  He listened to her heels on the hardwood floor and then the back door slammed and quiet came into the building. The sounds of the street filtered through the walls muffled and seemingly from a great distance. He crossed to the side window to look out but the night was thick and he could see nothing.

  Rolling a cigarette he smoked it short and built another. There was some coffee left and he finished it by the time the back door opened and closed. Reilly put the cup down, feeling uncertain. He was like a man visiting in a strange house when the doorbell begins to ring. He knew that moment of uncertainty; should he answer it or not?

  He stepped away from the table and moved across the room. Flinging the separating door open, he stepped through and to one side so that the shaft of lamplight would cut the darkness of the back room. A breath of perfume touched him and a familiar voice said, “Aren’t you going to kiss me, Reilly?”

  “Sally!” He was more shocked than surprised. “What are you doing here?”

  She moved past him, into her sister’s room. With the lamplight on her she turned slowly toward him as though conscious of her beauty and wanting to give it to him in small doses. Her hair was golden and piled high in a bun on the back of her head. She had full lips and dark eyes with lashes that touched her cheeks when she offered him half-veiled glances.

  “Do I pass inspection?”
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  “You haven’t changed,” he said softly, his eyes traveling over the soft curves revealed by a flowing dress, tight at waist and bodice.

  “But you have,” she said. “I can see it, Reilly. More serious, I think, and not quite so impulsive.” She studied his face as though attempting to read his thoughts. “You’re angry because I married Burk, aren’t you?”

  “You want a silly answer to that one?”

  “Sorry. Both to the question and not believing you when you said you’d come back to me. What was a girl to do? Sit and wait?”

  “I had to sit and wait. They put bars around to make sure I didn’t run off.”

  “I don’t want to quarrel with you,” she said. “All right, so I made a mistake. What do I have to do to prove that I’m sorry—draw blood?”

  “Forget it,” Reilly said, and studied the pattern of the rug. “You’re sorry. I’m sorry. Let’s forget it.”

  “Don’t be that way,” Sally said. She clasped her hands together. “I know you think it was foolish of me to come here like this, but when Tess came to the house and said you were here, I just had to see you again. Don’t ask me why.”

  “I don’t have to,” Reilly told her. “You always had a tough time making up your mind who you liked. You had to come here because you’re remembering how it used to be with us and you’re wondering if it will be that way again. I’m not going to sneak off behind Burk’s back, Sally. Don’t think you can make me. You’re trouble to me now, so you go your way and I’ll go mine.”

  She tipped her head back and laughed at him. “I can see right through you, Reilly. You’re jealous. Every time the sun goes down you’ll begin to sweat, and whatever you’re doing, you’ll stop, wondering about me and Burk. Go ahead and think, Reilly. Make up a lot of pictures, but remember that they’ll only be pictures.” Her smile widened and something sly moved into her eyes. “I’ve always wanted a child. I think I’ll take the subject up with my husband.”

  “You can hate like a Piute,” he said softly.

  “You’re the Indian,” she said, her temper exposed now, “and the sign’s on you. Winehaven is still in business, and with the agency buying beef, you’ll be back with the wild bunch where the easy money is. You’ll go back because without me that dirt pile you call a ranch will be unbearable.”

  “Are you finished?”

  “No. Not until I have you back. You’re going to take me back, aren’t you, Reilly?” She came close to him and slipped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him. She could use her body and her lips, and her fervor reached a fever pitch before she released him. In the beginning he resisted her, and when his emotion became too strong he tried to break away. But he ended with her crushed against him and all resolution gone.

  When she pushed herself away she raised her hands to straighten her hair, the cloth of her dress pulling tight over her breasts. She wore a slightly superior smile and she said, “It isn’t over between us, Reilly. It isn’t even beginning.”

  Her casualness shocked him. He said, “Sally, I think you’re trying to get me killed.”

  Her hand pressed against the butt of his Remington. “Perhaps I’m trying to get my husband killed.”

  “Get the hell out of here,” he said. “What did you come here for? To pull me apart?”

  “Don’t make this any harder for me than it is,” she said. “Reilly, we used to make a lot of plans. What happened to them?”

  “They’re dead,” he told her. “Sally, keep away from me. You’re married and no matter what I wanted, I couldn’t have it now.”

  She turned again quickly, facing him, her mouth full and warm with pleasure. “Ah, it is that way. You do want me and Burk won’t stand between us. Not up to you, he wouldn’t. Reilly, you haven’t changed, I can see that now. You always took what you wanted. Take me. Do you think I really love him?”

  “You married him. Sally, I don’t want trouble with Burk or anybody.”

  “Why? Are you afraid of him?”

  He shook his head. “That won’t work any more, Sally. Once there was a time when that would have made me fight him, but not now. I have changed. The pen did that to me. You made a deal with Burk and you’d better go back to the house and sleep with it.”

  “I’ll go back,” she agreed, “but the other I won’t do.”

  He reached out and touched her on the arm. “What do you want, Sally? Do you really know?”

  Smiling, she turned her back to him. Her voice was silky. “I’m a selfish person. Maybe I don’t want Tess to have you.” She seemed to sense his coming protest and raised her hand. “Let’s not pretend, Reilly. We both know she’s been making calf-eyes at you since she’s been thirteen.” She laughed uneasily. “Once I was quite jealous because she rode double with you and always wanted to tussle. At times I wondered if you were taking her into the hayloft.”

  “Did that worry you?”

  Her shoulders rose, and fell slightly. “At the time it might have, but I’ve learned a few things since then. Now the competition doesn’t bother me.” She shot him a quick glance. “She’s a little fool, coming to the house after me. Burk’s up town with Jane Alford and he won’t be home until morning. What he does doesn’t concern me one way or another, Reilly.”

  “That’s a coincidence,” he said. “I don’t give a damn either.”

  “I told you he wouldn’t be home until morning,” Sally said and gave him a bolder look. “We have lots of time, Reilly.” Moving closer to him, she touched him lightly on the arm. “Tess is probably standing out in the alley. Turn the key and blow out the lamp and she’ll go away. You really don’t want me to leave, do you?”

  “The sooner the better,” he said.

  She offered him a short, brittle laugh. “And here I had it all figured out.” She dropped her hand and stepped away from him. “I believe I am sorry that I came here, but I’m not giving up.”

  “Don’t come back,” Reilly said, and took her arm, steering her to the door.

  She offered no protest, but stopped in the doorway. “I’ve heard of people being thrown out, but I’ve never had it happen to me before.” Reaching out, she put her arm around his neck, pulling him close. “Look at me, Reilly, and tell me that you don’t love me.”

  “You’d better go.”

  Her laughter teased him and she came against him suddenly, her lips searching for his. Her arms held him with a new power and at last she pulled away, laughing and pleased and composed.

  “I’ll be back,” she promised. “You won’t stop me, Reilly. No matter what you say, you won’t, because you want me with you.”

  She moved through the darkened back room. He listened to the back door open and close, and then he was alone. His coffee was cold but he lifted the cup anyway. When he glanced down at his hand he saw that it was trembling.

  Tess came in a moment later and closed the door, leaning her back against it. She searched him with her eyes. She said, “Nothing’s changed, has it?”

  “You’re talking like a fool,” Reilly said, but he didn’t look at her.

  “Am I?” She pushed herself away from the door and took the cup from his hands, taking a long drink while watching him over the rim. Handing it back, she said, “From now on you’ll do everything wrong because she won’t let you do otherwise. She never lets go of a thing until it’s ruined or destroyed. You think I’m horrible for talking about my sister that way? Maybe I am.”

  “She did all the talking, Tess.”

  “I know,” Tess Isham said. “I know how it goes because I’ve heard it all before. She’s heading you straight for trouble, Reilly.”

  “Not me,” he maintained. “I’m not going to bother her.”

  “No,” she said, “I don’t suppose you will, but she’ll bother you and then you’ll forget which is which and nothing will matter but you and her being together
again. I can remember, Reilly. She taught all the tricks to me and I saw her work ’em on you.” She turned her back to him suddenly. “You’d better go now, Reilly.”

  “Will I see you again, Tess?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I shouldn’t have let you kiss me.”

  For a moment he stood there as though hoping she would turn around. When he saw that she was not going to, he picked up his hat. He paused at the door and looked at her. He said, “I wasn’t lying, Tess. It was you I was thinking of.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re thinking of Sally now and that washes everything out.”

  “Does it?”

  “Please go, Reilly.”

  “All right,” he said and went into the darkened back room. Retrieving his rifle from the bench, he let himself out the front way, testing the door to see that it had locked behind him.

  His horse was still tied in front of the hardware store and he led it to the stable at the end of the street. He off-saddled and eased the stud into a stall just as Ben Cannoyer came in.

  “Better take that stud out back,” Cannoyer said testily. “I got a mare that’s horsin’ and I don’t want my stable kicked to pieces.”

  Without arguing about it, Reilly led the horse through the stable and bedded him down in a small out-building that once had served as a carriage shed. When he returned he found the old man waiting in the stable arch, puffing contentedly on his pipe.

  Only one lantern hung on a stanchion. Reilly raised the lantern off the hook, setting it on a cross board to cast light onto the ground where his blanket roll lay. Cannoyer said, “Careful with that. I don’t want no fires in here.”

  Reilly unrolled his double blanket, took a clean shirt from it, then peeled out of his coat. A watering trough sat a few feet from the stable archway and he walked to it, taking off his shirt to wash.