A Town Called No Hope (A Steampunk Western)

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A Town Called No Hope (A Steampunk Western) Page 3

by Izzy Hunter


  ‘I’m sorry,’ Mona told the remaining teacher. ‘I didn’t mean for him to quit.’

  The teacher waved a dismissive hand. ‘Oh, don’t worry, Sheriff. He’s had it coming for a long time.’

  ‘But you’re without a teacher.’

  ‘We’ll manage. We’ve done before, and we’ll do again. And I’d just like to say, I disagree with him; it was a fine day when you became Sheriff. When I think back to how it was before...’ the woman paused and shivered.

  ‘Thank you,’ Mona smiled. ‘I need to speak to Jimmy. Is it all right if we take him outside for a few minutes? For some privacy?’

  ‘Jimmy, the Sheriff would like to speak to you. Come straight back when you’re done, all right?’

  ‘Yes, Miss,’ the blond boy said, rising to his feet once more.

  After their talk with Jimmy, Mona and Connor were a lot wiser about Matthew Reedus and his reasons for leaving No Hope with a bag full of other folk's money.

  The Reedus family lived on the outskirts of the town. Mrs Reedus' death by pneumonia three years earlier, left the boy in the sole care of his father, Gregory. According to Jimmy, Mr Reedus barely treated his son like a human being. And when he did treat Matthew with anything resembling fatherly affection, it was to teach his son that everyone was sons of bitches; that Gregory was the only one Matthew should listen to. It was a wonder the man let his son come to school. But, according to Jimmy, Matthew only attended school so Gregory could spend his days drinking or in the whore house without his son getting under his feet. With each new piece of information, Mona’s dislike of Matthew Reedus had begun to vanish. The boy's behaviour was a result of his environment. She and Connor walked through the main street. Mona had decided they would visit Mr Reedus. She wondered if he'd even noticed his son had run away.

  ‘Mattie said he was running away to New Moray,’ Jimmy had told them earlier. New Moray was the nearest city to No Hope. It would take someone on horseback four days to get there, and Matthew wasn’t much of a rider, Jimmy had said.

  ‘What do you know about Gregory Reedus?’ Mona asked Connor.

  ‘He’s a bastard,’ the young man offered. ‘Not in the biblical sense. He’s a nasty man. Handy with the belt if he finds kids playing too near his place.’

  ‘So why haven’t I run into him before now?’ Mona asked. She’d been Sheriff for just over two years and thought she knew almost everyone in the town.

  ‘I think a lot of folk are scared to report him,’ Connor confessed. ‘He’s the kind of man who seems to know secrets. Folk are scared that if they report him, he’ll reveal them.’

  ‘Should I be concerned about these secrets? Do you know them?’

  Connor’s grin confirmed that he did. ‘A couple. Keep my ear to the ground and to the walls,’ he added, his grin widening. ‘And no, they’re not things that should be brought to the attention of the town’s Sheriff. It’s mostly adultery, or bad-mouthing someone behind their back. Trivial things.’

  She glanced at him through the corner of her eye. Was one of these trivial things the truth about Henry?

  ‘Morning, Sheriff.’ Two men were leaving the brothel. The one who had spoken was the same man she'd encountered last night. He walked across to her, his friend staying back, idly kicking up the dusty terrain as he waited.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said, coming to a stop. Connor copied her. Mona briefly looked back at the three-storey building that belonged to the town's Madam. ‘I see you returned to Mrs Fontaine's,’ she commented.

  The man broke into a smile, slight crow’s feet appeared by his blue eyes. ‘Yes, we did. Well, my friend did.'

  ‘You didn’t spent time with one of the girls?’ Mona asked. ‘What’s wrong with them?’

  The man raised his eyebrows. Still grinning, he said, ‘Well, I must admit, the ladies are indeed beautiful but I have never used a whore house personally and don’t intend to.’

  At that moment, the green door which served as the entrance to the brothel opened, and one of the girls, Tallulah - all blond curls and heaving bosom - skipped out. She wore a tight, red ribbed corset and matching dress and held something tight in her hand. She moved past the other man and headed towards where Mona stood.

  ‘Oh, Sam,’ Tallulah cooed, reaching them and stroking the stranger’s stubbled chin. ‘You forgot something,’ she went on, smiling coyly, and placing something into his hands. Sam glanced at Mona and then turned to Tallulah. ‘Thank you very much, miss. Much obliged that you should return my dear mother’s wedding ring.’

  Tallulah frowned. ‘But I thought you said it was your grandmother's -’ she began.

  ‘You’d best get back inside, Tallulah,’ Mona said. ‘It’s a cold day today.’

  ‘Oh, Sheriff,’ said Tallulah, as if realising there were other people nearby. ‘Yes, you’re right. It is rather chilly today.’ She reached up and gave Sam a peck on the cheek, leaving a faint trace of lipstick on his left cheek. ‘Do call again,’ Tallulah flirted, and then skipped back inside the brothel.

  ‘So you never use whore houses, huh?’ Mona asked, as Sam pocketed the plain ring.

  Sam shrugged again. ‘I did my best to resist, but when a beautiful young woman stands before you, well, a man starts to have indecent thoughts and sometimes has to act on them.’

  He was flirting with her again. She decided to hold his gaze. Neither spoke. Finally, Connor who had been watching the two, coughed.

  ‘Um, Sheriff, shouldn’t we get going?’ he asked.

  Mona broke off looking at Sam and nodded at her steward. ‘Yes. Well, Sam, it was enlightening to meet you again.’

  ‘Likewise, Sheriff,’ he doffed his hat and walked back to his friend.

  Just as the two men started to head down the main street, Sam stopped. He was gazing up at the sky. Mona followed his gaze, and noticed a small black dot in amongst the clouds, gradually getting bigger.

  ‘Let’s make this visit quick,’ Mona told Connor as they continued onwards to the Reedus house. ‘Looks like the airship’s on its way back.’

  The Reedus residence was just as Mona had imagined it after speaking to young Jimmy. Once upon a time the place might have looked nice. Not anymore, though. Part of the roof caved in, the porch was missing one or two wooden planks, and all the raggedy curtains were closed.

  ‘Ready?’ Connor asked.

  Mona nodded, and the pair approached the run-down house. Before they took a step onto the porch, the front door flew open. A narrow, grizzly-faced man with bloodshot eyes stormed out. The rifle in his hands was aimed directly at Mona.

  ‘Good morning,’ Mona began. ‘Mr Reedus, I presume?’

  The man glared at her through narrowed eyes, never lowering the gun. ‘That’s right. What you doing sneaking round on my property, missy?’

  Mona bristled at the word missy. ‘We've not met, Mr Reedus. I’m the town’s Sheriff.’

  Reedus continued staring at her and then spat on the ground. ‘No, you aint.’

  ‘I’d like to talk to you -’

  ‘I don’t talk to women. They don't have nothing useful to say,’ Reedus interrupted.

  Mona was sorely tempted to draw her own gun and aim it at the man, but she didn't want to make the situation worse. ‘It’s about your son, Matthew.’

  ‘What’s the dumb ass done now?’ Reedus Senior asked.

  Mona didn’t answer right away. She was weighing up her options. What would the father’s reaction be on finding out his son had stolen money and shot at a law officer? Anger? Apathy?’

  ‘Your son shot the Deputy,’ Connor blurted out, ignorant of the glare Mona was giving him. ‘And he stole money from the bank.’

  Reedus frowned. ‘The kid did that? Maybe he’s less than a mouse than I thought. I suppose you got him behind bars?’

  ‘No, Mr Reedus,’ Mona said, taking charge again. ‘He shot Henry and ran away. Word is he’s heading for New Moray.’

  Reedus shrugged. ‘Gets him outta my hair.’

 
Mona had enough of this man. She moved forwards. Reedus raised his gun again, but she didn’t care. She only stopped when the gun was pressing against her throat.

  ‘Not the wisest decision, missy,’ Reedus said. From this close, Mona could see that the man would have been a looker in his younger years. She wondered if he had been this way, before his wife had died. Or was her death what had made him into an asshole?

  ‘Mr Reedus, I assure you that once we find Matthew, and we will - that’s a promise - you will never see him again.’

  Reedus smirked. ‘I’m not one for visiting prison, anyways.’

  ‘Oh, the child won’t be going to prison,’ Mona assured him. ‘He’ll be found a loving family who can care for him and treat him like a human being, not an inconvenience. There’s hope for him. You, Mr Reedus, you can just waste away the rest of your life by yourself.’ There was no reaction from him, so she turned away, and walked back down the steps to where Connor stood.

  As they walked away, Connor whispered to her. ‘You’re gonna do what you said you’d do? Take Matthew away from his pa?’

  ‘I have no choice, Connor. Matthew has grown up with that all his young life. He’s been misguided. A new, caring family is the best thing for him.’

  ‘You think any family round here will take him?’

  ‘We’ll see.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  At the other end of town, the vast airship was coming into landing. The airship had been yet another of Mona’s ideas. No Hope was stuck in the middle of a land-locked region. New Moray houses the nearest train station, so Mona had hit upon the idea of the airship being the town’s transport carrier; food and other trade-able items, passengers. Anything that could be feasibly carried on the ship was.

  When Mona and Connor reached the centre of town again, a glut of townsfolk were making for the other end of town where the ship was finishing its descent. They followed the herd, and fell alongside Wesley who was no doubt on his way to retrieve some order Sanders had placed.

  ‘Morning, Sheriff,’ Wesley stammered and then nodded an acknowledgement at Connors. ‘How’s the Deputy today?’

  ‘Resting,’ Mona told him. ‘Thank you again for you and Sanders’ help last night.’

  ‘Oh, it was our pleasure.’ A blush was forming on the apprentice’s cheeks.

  ‘I still don’t know why you insist on getting Mr Sanders to see to Henry when we have a perfectly fine doctor in town,’ said Connors, bemused.

  ‘Henry doesn’t like him,’ Mona lied.

  ‘Why?’ the Steward persisted.

  ‘Hell, I don’t know, Connor,’ Mona said, wishing the conversation would end. ‘I’d ask him but I doubt he’d say why.’

  They pressed on until they joined the crowd of people clambering to be first in line. The ship's crew were already unloading various-sized crates from a hatch at the back of the airship while a smartly-dressed man stood on a makeshift stage, clearing his voice.

  ‘Please, ladies and gentlemen, you must give these men time to take all the boxes off the airship, and then we shall call out your names and you can come and collect them!’ the man called out in a hoarse voice.

  Near the front end of the airship, people were disembarking down a small set of steps. A small crowd stood before them, people embracing their friends and loved ones. Mona left Connor and Wesley and went to speak to the captain who was the last one to disembark.

  ‘Captain Northam,’ she called out.

  Northam looked up, still wearing her leather goggles and pilot’s cap which hung over her ears. She smiled brightly at the sight of her old friend. ‘Mona, always a pleasure.’

  ‘How was the journey?’ Mona asked, watching Northam take off the goggles to reveal large, blue eyes.

  ‘Fine,’ nodded the captain. ‘No trouble, which makes a nice change.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’

  ‘Henry not with you?’ Northam said, looking around for any sign of the muscular deputy.

  ‘He was shot yesterday.’

  Northam paused. ‘You took him to Sanders straight away, yes?’

  Mona nodded. Bertha ‘Bertie’ Northam had come over to America when she and Henry had fled England, and knew the truth. ‘He’s fine. Sanders fixed him but I told Henry to rest for the day.’

  ‘Listen, I could do with a drink. We can have a proper chat over some Jerky,’ Northam offered.

  ‘I’d like that,’ Mona said with a smile.

  ‘Good. Let me finish up here and I’ll meet you at the saloon. I’m sure it’s your round, if memory serves me correctly.’

  ‘No, it’s yours but since I have a favour to ask of you, I’ll buy the drinks this time.’

  ‘It’s a deal,’ said Northam, then she headed off to help the men unload the cargo, getting many admiring glances as she did so.

  There was no sign of Mr Woods in the saloon. Mona wouldn't have blamed him if he'd come in to drown his sorrows, now he'd quit his teaching post. There was barely any room to move, a usual occurrence when the airship was in town. Most of the crew were in, as were some of the new arrivals. Mona spotted Sam and his friend taking part in a game of cards. Sam played his hand and then caught Mona watching, offering her a smile in return. She hastily looked away.

  ‘Ah,’ Northam said, savouring the taste of the town’s home-brewed liquor. ‘Nothing beats Jerky after a hard day’s work.’

  ‘Amen to that,’ agreed Mona, clinking glasses with her friend in a toast.

  ‘So,’ began the young Irish woman. ‘The fella who shot Henry’s rotting in jail now, I take it?’

  Mona shook her head. ‘He ran away before I could catch him.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Mona pointed to the cut on her temple. ‘This happened. Hit my head on the corner of a desk. Felt dizzy. The kid ran for it.’

  ‘Kid?’

  ‘Matthew Reedus.’

  Northam pursed her lips together. ‘Reedus. I think I’ve encountered his father. Had the misfortune of meeting him in the street. Wondered what I was doing in trousers and told me he could help me take them off if I liked.’

  Mona grimaced. ‘Yes, that’s Mr Reedus.’

  ‘Is his son as pleasant as he is?’

  ‘He can't be any worse. I reckon the kid wanted as far away from his father as possible, just needed the money to do it.’

  ‘I sympathise with the boy. Can't be easy having a father like he does.

  ‘I feel the same,’ Mona said, then she put down her drink and looked at her friend. ‘Actually, that’s where the favour comes in.’

  Northam’s eyes narrowed, peering back at Mona from the top of the glass she was sipping from. She swallowed the liquor then lowered the glass again. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Matthew’s on his way to New Moray. If I find him, we can sort this whole mess out.’

  ‘Arrest him, you mean?’

  ‘Not necessarily. The kid needs a family who cares about him. It’s not too late to save him from a dark path.’

  ‘Hell, Mona, you sound like one of those bloody preachers,’ Northam said, rolling her eyes. ‘Hang on, this favour - you want me to take you to New Moray, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes. You fly over the city often enough. Hell, you don’t even need to land. Just chuck the ladder over the side and I’ll climb down if I have to.’

  ‘You’ve got this all figured out, haven’t you?’

  ‘I wish. Will you help me?’

  ‘Well,’ Northam began, leaning back in her seat. ‘We’re not due another trip until next week. We can’t afford enough fuel to journey more than once a week these days.’

  ‘I can’t wait a week,’ said Mona. She took a deep breath and shook her head. ‘Forget it then. The kid’ll be long gone, anyway.’

  ‘Hey,’ Northam said, laying a hand over Mona’s arm. ‘I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you. If you can wait until tomorrow, I’ll take you. Hell, I’ll even help you find the brat.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Mona said, squeezing her friend’s hand
.

  ‘Not interrupting anything, am I, ladies?’

  The two friends looked up. Mr Woods stood before them, swaying slightly. From the smell of him, he’d certainly been drinking before coming into the saloon. ‘Go home, Mr Woods,’ Mona said, getting back to her drink.

  ‘Why the hell should I?’ the ex-teacher slurred.

  ‘You know this man?’ Northam asked Mona. Mona nodded.

  ‘Yeah, she sure knows me,’ Woods continued. ‘The bitch cost me my job.’

  The place went quiet at the sound of Wood’s raised voice. Everyone was listening. Mona sensed trouble brewing and her fingers flexed, ready to draw her gun underneath the table.

  ‘No, Mr Woods, you quit your job. I only told you to go home and sober up.’

  ‘Shut up, you little whore.’

  ‘Whore?’ Northam said, arms folded, eyebrow raised. ‘Is that the best you can come up with? Hell, Mona here's been called a lot worse.’

  ‘And you can shut up, too,’ Woods spat, turning to glare at Northam who looked not at all threatened. She had dealt with far worse men than someone like Woods, and won.

 

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