She gripped his shirt. “Reilly, why don’t you get out!”
“Give me a reason.”
“The shot that missed you tonight,” Tess said. “That would be all the reason I’d need.”
He grunted in disagreement. “I need more than that, Tess.” He studied her and the lamplight fell softly across her cheeks. He touched her bare arm and she didn’t pull away. “Would you come with me, Tess?”
She turned her face away, presenting her profile. The silence in the room was like a shout. Finally she asked, “Why did you say that, Reilly? Because you’re lonely?”
“Everybody’s lonely,” he said. “You’re lonely living here. It isn’t what you want.”
Suddenly she seemed angry again. “I wouldn’t marry a man because I was cold and needed blankets!” She made a move as if to get up, but he gripped her tighter and pulled her toward him.
“Can’t you see what I’m trying to say to you?”
She looked into his good eye, as though trying to see past and into his mind. “How can I say what I see? Do you think I dare to read into your actions and words what I want there? Reilly, you never knew I was alive for a long time and now you’re hinting—” She stopped. “I don’t know what you’re hinting.”
Again she tried to twist free. He pulled her across his lap and held her against his chest. “Tess,” he said. “Tess, you’re different.”
She slid her hands along his back and tried to kiss his bruised lips gently, but after they touched, she lost control and hurt him. He felt pain but he ignored it, and for a long moment they stayed locked in each other’s arms.
After their lips parted, Reilly held her and she seemed content to lie quietly, her fingers moving slightly along his neck. They sat that way, not speaking, and then Tess glanced up as the lamp flickered. She pushed herself away from Reilly, staring at the open door.
Sally leaned her shoulder against the upright and a faint, mocking smile curved her lips. “Well,” she said, closing the door, and stepping into the room. “I always come at the most inopportune times, don’t I?”
“What do you want?” Tess asked. Spots of color tinted her cheeks and her eyes had sharp, dancing lights in them.
“That’s a good question,” Sally said. “Maybe I want the same thing you do. You’ve been after him for six years. Don’t you ever give up?”
“Get out of here,” Tess said. “I mean it, Sally. I’ve had enough.”
“You get out,” Sally said. “Let me tell you something, honey. You’ll never do Reilly Meyers any good. He’s not your type. Get yourself some shoe clerk and scrub his floor. That’s your speed.”
Reilly stood up, hard and angular in the light. He said, “Shut your mouth, Sally.”
“What for?” Sally said. “So you can blow out the lamp?”
“That’s enough of that talk!” Reilly said.
“Is it now?” Sally’s smile grew. “I saw the way you were when I came in.” She faced her sister. “Get out, please.”
“Don’t order me around, Sally. This is my home and you’re the one who’s going to leave.” Tess took a step toward Sally and Reilly put his hands on her shoulders, stopping her.
“You’ve always been a little fool,” Sally said. “Your home? You’ve been fooling yourself. Do you think the place is paid for?” She laughed softly. “Tess, Burk bought this place a year ago. He gave me the deed, all signed and delivered.” Her smile faded. “Now you get out. Close this up tomorrow and find yourself another place to bring your men.”
Tess Isham stood stock still, the color drained from her face. “You’re lying, Sally. This place is mine. Dad owned it outright.”
“He didn’t own the shirt on his own back,” Sally told her. “Burk Seever paid off everything, even the house we lived in.”
“I think this has gone far enough,” Reilly said, and stepped around Tess. “Whatever you want, Sally, you’ve come to the wrong place at the wrong time. Now we don’t want a squabble, so just leave.”
“She’s going to leave,” Sally said flatly. “Damn you, Reilly, why didn’t you finish the job when you had the chance?”
“Burk?”
“Who else?” Sally reached up and removed her hat, laying it on the table. She stripped off her gloves, then shrugged out of her cape. Crossing to Tess Isham’s bed, Sally tested it with an outstretched hand, then looked at her sister.
“Are you going to leave, or will I have to make you?”
“Make me.”
“All right,” Sally said. She reached behind her, unbuttoning the row of buttons up the back. The pale blue dress fell away from her arms and she kicked her legs free. She wore a thin white petticoat under it and unfastened the band at her waist. When she bent over to free her legs, lamplight threw deep shadows between her breasts.
She stood there, clad in only a brief shift that ended high on her thighs. She looked at Tess and smiled faintly. “Why don’t you pull up a chair if you want to watch.”
For a moment, only shock appeared on Tess’ face. Then tears broke through and she ran blindly for the door, slamming it behind her. After the outside door closed, Sally sat down on the bed and said, “You’re very angry, aren’t you, Reilly?”
“I didn’t know you could hit that low, Sally.”
“Why not?” she said. “You’re tough, Reilly and you fight your way. Why can’t I be tough too? Or isn’t that fair?” She raised her arms, drawing her shift tight across her breasts. “Do you want a soft woman, Reilly? I can be soft.”
“Tess pulled you out of a tight one the other night,” Reilly said. “You forget those things damn easy, don’t you?”
“She didn’t save me from anything,” Sally snapped. “That was for you, Reilly. She’s so crazy about you, she’d have walked out in the altogether if she’d thought it would help.” She stood up, moving toward him. “Don’t use an old saw on me. I know you too well for that.”
She stood with the lamp behind her, letting the light come through the fabric. She watched the tightening of his jaw muscles. “You’re not rid of me,” she said. “Deny it, do anything you want, but we’re for each other. Shall I prove it to you?”
“You don’t have to prove anything,” Reilly said. “I can admit somethin’ and still stay away from it. You’re under my skin, Sally. I never made no bones about that. You got somethin’ I like and with all your meanness, that’s what I want. But not the way you like to have it. I’m not goin’ to kill Burk to get you.”
“I ran Tess out of here,” Sally said. “I can bring you into my arms the same way.”
“Don’t try it,” Reilly said.
“A dare, Reilly?” She unlaced the drawstring that held up her shift and let it drop. Her hands were at her sides and she waited with the lamplight falling against her. There was no shyness in this woman. She knew what she was doing and did it boldly, aggressively.
Reilly walked to the table and bent down, to pick up her dress from where she had kicked it. He came back to her and threw it at her. “Put it on,” he said without emotion. “You remind me of a two-bit whore I knew in Stock-ton.”
He heard her gasp, but his back was turned. He went out, closing the door behind him, and once in the alley with the cool night wind blowing against him, he realized that he was sweating. Farther down, he saw a shifting movement. He reached for his gun, but let his hand slide away when he saw Tess Isham.
He walked toward her, wondering what he could say. When he stopped before her, she did not offer to speak. Finally he said, “I’m sorry, kid. She’s willful.”
“Mean too,” Tess said. “But you’ve always overlooked that. I’m sorry I pushed myself on you, Reilly. I ought to have known better.”
“You’re sore,” Reilly said. “Sore at me. Did you think I—” He jerked his thumb toward the bakery, then shook his head. “You’re wrong, Tess. Dead wro
ng.”
“I’m not going back there now,” Tess said. “She’s been on the bed and I’d never be able to get it out of my mind.”
“Now wait a minute—”
“You don’t have to apologize, Reilly.” A poor imitation of a smile passed over her face. “She’s right. I was after something I couldn’t have.”
“Tess,” he said, “why don’t you shut up and listen?”
“Listen to what?” She drew a shaky breath. “I was just fourteen, Reilly, but I knew about the buggy rides. I used to lie awake at night and wish I was there instead of her. But even then I knew it wouldn’t work. I’m just not enough woman for you, that’s all.”
“You goin’ to talk all night?” He wanted to laugh at her, but he knew he would not. He thought how different she was from her sister, and wondered what kind of a wife she would make. He knew she would work beside her man and share his troubles, but he thought of another thing. That part of her he didn’t know.
“I’ll get me a place at the edge of town,” she said. “There’s some abandoned shanties left behind by the railroad survey crew. I’ll get along.” The facade ruptured and she buried her face in her hands and cried.
He stood there for a moment, then touched her shoulder and walked down the alley, emerging on a side street. At the corner he crossed over and turned left, walking slow and easy toward the saloon. There was not much light now for the business houses had closed for the night. Doorways stood dark and sunken and as he passed a crack between buildings, a voice said softly, “Reilly!”
He wheeled and drew his Remington in one motion, the click of the hammer loud in the stillness. Then he saw a pale face and put the gun away. He stepped into the gap, pushed Jane Alford back a pace and held her arm.
“What are you hiding here for?” Reilly asked.
“I had to see you,” Jane said. “Keep your voice down if you don’t want to get killed.” She took his sleeve and pulled him close so she could whisper. “Elmer Loving was the one who fired that shot.”
“How do you know?”
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, Reilly. I’m telling you. That’s enough.”
He sighed. “I guess that figures all right.”
“That’s not it,” Jane said. “You guess he’s getting even, figuring you’ll do him in some day, but that’s not it. Seever had orders to pick a fight with you. You remember what happened to Hank Walling eight years ago. He never came to after Burk hit him enough times.”
“So-o,” Reilly said.
“Burk didn’t make it this time,” Jane whispered, “so Loving was supposed to finish the job.”
“Who paid him?”
“I’ve said enough.” She tried to sidle away but he held her fast. Across the street, boots echoed hollowly on the boardwalk. Ernie Slaughter came into view and Milo Bucks turned up a minute later. They stood together over there.
“You’ve said too much,” Reilly murmured. “I’m going after Elmer and when I do, the man who paid him will know you talked. Who was it, Jane.”
She said slowly, “Max Horgan. It was Ben Cannoyer’s rifle.”
“Max the big boy?”
“You know better than that,” Jane said. “Max is tough, but not smart enough.”
“How do you know these things?”
“I just know them,” she said. “Let me go, Reilly. I’ve been gone too long now.”
“Goin’ back to the saloon’s no good now,” Reilly said. “Seems to me not too many’d know of this. Once I go after Elmer, your neck won’t be worth a nickel. You’re gettin’ out of the saloon business now, Jane.”
“You’re insane!” She began to struggle, but he wrapped an arm around her and held her almost motionless against him. Ernie and Milo Bucks still teetered on the boardwalk across the street so Reilly took a match from his pocket, wiping it against the building.
The cell of light flared for a moment, attracting their attention. Reilly said, “Ernie!” and both men came across, loose-legged and easy.
“What the hell?” Ernie said when he saw Jane Alford.
“Elmer tried to tag me,” Reilly said. He nodded toward Jane. “Get her out of town, Ernie, and do it quick.”
“Where?”
“She’ll be safe at Jim Buttelow’s,” Reilly said.
“This is crazy,” Jane said. “I won’t go.”
“Put her on a horse,” Reilly said, as if he hadn’t heard her. “Be careful of Ben Cannoyer. He’s in this somehow. Just get her out and don’t let anything happen to her.”
“Nothin’ will happen to her.”
“Ernie,” Jane said, “please. You’re getting yourself in trouble and I don’t want that. Can’t you see I’ve never wanted you to get mixed up in it?”
“Is that why you keep slappin’ my face an’ tellin’ me to stay the hell away from you?”
“Yes,” she said in an intense whisper. “Oh, Ernie, don’t be a fool now. Forget about me.”
“Maybe you’ve been lyin’,” Ernie said. “Maybe you never did stop bein’ in love with me. Is that how it is, Jane?”
“Yes. Yes, I love you, you blind saddlebum. Now will you leave me alone?”
Ernie spat on the ground. “You sure as hell are goin’ with me now—nice and easy, or across my shoulder.”
Her shoulders sagged. She said, “All right, but I’ll have to get some clothes.”
“You’re dressed fine,” Ernie said, and took her arm.
As he pulled her to the boardwalk, Jane turned her head to Reilly. “What do you do with a man like that?”
“Marry him,” Reilly said.
He stood there while Ernie and Jane Alford hurried down the dark street. After the night swallowed them he said, “Feel up to some rough stuff, Milo?”
“Hell, you bet,” Milo said, and followed Reilly toward the shanties east of town.
The shanties were not much: tarpaper shacks mostly, left behind by a railroad crew that came through but did not build a railroad. Reilly saw no light anywhere as he led the way down a narrow lane. The shacks were small one-room affairs and in the night they resembled squat rocks. A Mexican swamper at the saloon lived down here, and so did two saddlebums in town for the winter. Reilly made up his mind that he’d burn this section out before he’d let Tess move here.
Reilly stopped near the last shack. Milo crossed over behind him and stood on the other side of the door. He drew his Frontier and cocked it, holding it ready as Reilly raised his foot.
The door splintered and fell flat. He got inside with one bound. He collided with a table and upset it. The lamp on the table shattered. He stopped, but heard no sound.
After a moment he wiped a match alight, holding it far away from his body in case he drew fire.
The shack was empty.
Milo backed through the door and Reilly flipped the match. The spilled coal oil caught with a whoof. The dry boards of the shack burned quickly.
Half a block away they looked back at the red glow. They heard some yelling from that quarter as the Mexican and the two saddlebums rushed around trying to keep the other buildings from catching.
Burkhauser was locking his saloon when Reilly and Bucks came down the street. He said, “Don’t you two have a home?”
“Where’s Elmer Loving?” Reilly asked.
Burkhauser looked surprised. “Loving? He went home an hour ago.”
“That’s a batch of—” Milo began, and Reilly cut him off.
They walked on down the street. Once out of earshot, Milo said, “I got a loose mouth.”
“Forget it,” Reilly said, and stepped into the harness maker’s doorway. His shoulder collided with something soft and a woman let out a frightened bleat. The man tried to push Reilly out of the way, but Reilly brought up a forearm and cracked him across the mouth. Then he wiped a match alive
and looked into four startled eyes. Jon Reagan, who clerked in the Bon Marche, swallowed heavily and felt of his bruised mouth.
“Get out of here,” Reilly said. The woman tried to cover her face with her arm, but Reilly pulled it down. “What’s the matter with your husband, Mrs. Cox? He getting old?”
“Now see here,” Reagan said, but Reilly whipped the match out, took him by the coat collar and pitched him sprawling onto the sidewalk. The woman cried out and tried to go to him, but Reilly held her.
“Get a little sense,” he said. “Jules find this out and Reagan’s a dead man.”
“It’s never happened before,” Mrs. Cox began in a run-together voice. “I swear it’s—”
“I’ve got troubles of my own,” Reilly said. He stepped through the doorway. Bucks waited nearby, his face inscrutable. Reilly started to walk away, then said as’ an afterthought, “Let Reagan go first. Wait a couple minutes.”
“You’re a real gentleman,” Mrs. Cox said, relieved and yet still worried because she had been caught.
Reilly walked down the street. He turned at the corner and looked back, but Reagan was gone. Milo said, “You’re sure a virtuous cuss.”
“A man ought to have better sense than to get caught.” Reilly scanned the darkened street. Ben Cannoyer’s stable made a huge dark shadow on the left side and he gave this a long study.
“That was Ben’s rifle,” he said. “I’m just wonderin—” He let the rest trail off and began to walk toward the stable.
The lantern over the archway had long been extinguished, and a deeper night outlined the open doors. Cannoyer’s quarters were off to one side: a bare room with stove and cot, the stark necessities for a man who lived alone.
Entering the stable, Reilly moved along cautiously until he touched the wall, then shifted left until he found the door. “Go light the lantern hanging over the door,” he said, and Milo drifted away.
The Sixth Western Novel Page 67