The thin women turned and faced her with her arms crossed, “Because if you had one and knew how to use it you can easily sit in front of the little ones and follow their progress as they go through their lessons.”
Anne looked at Bob and then at her and said, “I-I, well right now I have a job in Bransville with the newspaper…” She covered her mouth momentarily then said, “It’s such short notice…I-I’d have to see.”
“I understand, dear,” the schoolmarm said as she looked at Anne through her pinched glasses, “You take your time as right now we have two ladies who can help out, but tell me, do you, by any chance, speak a second language?”
“Yes,” said Anne nodding, “French. Not great, but good enough to order French food. Why do you ask?”
“Well,” she said excitedly, “ it would be great for the children of our town to learn another language. Don’t you think?”
“Y-Yes, of course it would.”
“And,” added the teacher, “I do think that you could be quite good at it, too.”
Anne smiled and said, “That’s funny because when I was going to college I thought that I might go into teaching. What a coincidence. Please let me think on it.”
“Well,” Anne said to Bob as they rode away, “Looks like the school is just about to open and if I play my cards right I could be the next French Teacher.”
“You’d make the cutest teacher since Miss Crabtree in ‘The Little rascals’.”
She pinched his cheek, “And I want more than just an apple from you…I’d expect the entire apple pie.”
Riding slowly down Main Street Bob said with a perplexed look on his face, “Lots of coincidences lately.”
“Really?” asked Anne shading her eyes, “How so?”
“Not sure,” he said as he adjusted the top cover against the sun’s rays, “It just seems funny that Kay’s Diner is now being run by a Kay from the tour. So is Harim’s Bakery.” He looked at her and shrugged, “I mean, Harim isn’t a common name, is it? And O’Henry’s Law Office now has the O’Henry family living in the rear and open for business. In fact, Cal says that O’Henry is looking into us lowering the tax payments that we have to pay each year. And there are more. It’s just strange.”
She shrugged her shoulders and said, “Like you said: a coincidence. That’s all.”
Two men rode by on horseback and both tipped their hats at them bringing Anne to say, “Bob, this is just the perfect place to be. I mean not only is it easy-going, but the townspeople all seem to have adopted the mannerisms of the old west. I love it.”
Seeing a half dozen more horses tied to hitch rails and a man and boy loading a buckboard with cut wood, Bob said as he nodded, “Boy, you are right. They all seem to embrace the old ways. It’s fantastic and I love it too.”
They continued their tour and as they approached the Dust Off Tavern, Anne said, “Hey, let’s stop in for a drink.”
Agreeing, Bob tied the horse to a hitch outside of the tavern and they went in. It was cooler inside and the tables were half full with men playing cards while others were repairing a few of the warped stairs. At the corner table, there were six women from the dressmaking store who had a lunchtime meeting. The piano player was doing ragtime and the bartender waved them over.
He was a big man in his mid-forties and sported a head of thick, blond hair and mustache that drooped below his lip line but this time it was arched up in a smile as he offered his hand.
“Mayor McKillop. Welcome to the Dust Off. I don’t believe I’ve seen you in here before. I’m Joe Sergi.”
They shook hands and Bob said, “Pleased to meet you, Joe and this is Anne Dallas.” The big man shook her hand as Bob went on, “This is the first chance I’ve had to stop in since opening the front door a bit back. How’s business?”
“Well,” answered Joe as he did what all bartenders do as they chat with a customer: wipe the already-clean bar in front of them, “there are no alcoholic drinks allowed yet. Sherriff Sullivan says that before that happens, we need to have a town meeting and set some rules up.”
“Okay. Then tell me what’s good to quench a thirst?”
“We got root beer and orange crush with chipped ice.”
Anne took off her hat, placed it on the bar and shaking out her hair said, “I’ll try the orange crush.”
“Me too,” added Bob as they stood at the bar with one foot resting on the brass rail as Joe made their drinks. Their drinks arrived and they enjoyed both the piano player’s music and their drinks. They were impressed with the way the sunlight came through the clean glass windows, reflected off the mirrors behind the bar then bounced off the gleaming brass and highly polished wooden furniture and floors.
They were chatting away when the sound of motorcycle engines seemed to fill Main Street. The engines were shut off in front of the lounge and all conversation ended as heavy footfalls sounded on the wooden sidewalk and three heavily tanned, middle-aged men dressed in well-worn jeans and sleeveless leather jackets swung open the two swinging doors. They stood and looked around the lounge as all looked back. The three wore red bandanas on their heads with ponytails sticking out the back and had wild, untrimmed beards and mustaches. Still looking around, they approached the bar and settled at the center, to the right of Bob and Anne.
“Beer,” demanded the six-foot plus, heavyset man who obviously was the leader.
“Sorry, sir, we don’t serve beer,” answered Joe with a smile as he wiped down the bar in front of them.
The man’s two large hand’s grasped the bar as his face reddened with a scowl that made his red hair and beard seem to stick straight out, as he said with a growl, “Ya mean that ya ain’t gonna serve us?”
Joe calmly answered as he continued to wipe the bar top, “No sir. As I said: we don’t sell beer. We’re still waiting for our liquor license, so to speak. However I can offer you Root beer or orange…”
“That means,” the man cut in angrily, “that ya got beer but ya just can’t sell it yet. Right?”
Joe shrugged his big shoulders and obviously getting peeved said, “Could be. But even if we had some, I wouldn’t serve you anyway.”
The biker opened his leather jacket and let all see that he was wearing a six-gun on his hip. “Hey Clem, Slim,” he called to his cohorts with a grin that showed missing teeth. As if it were rehearsed the other two men opened their vests and revealed that they too carried six-guns. The leader went on as he put his back to the bar and rested his elbows on it, “What do ya say, boys? Why don’t we just stick around this town a bit? Why I bet the locals will even feed and lodge us for free.” He looked down and spit in one of the spittoons then continued, “Why, I bet they would even pay us ta leave when we see fit ta go.” His two friends nodded in agreement.
“Good day, gents.”
The voice came from the doorway and the three men turned to see Cal standing in the open doorway with the sun behind him. He appeared as a wide silhouette standing with both hands resting on the open swinging doors and the men tried to block out the sunlight behind him with their hands on their foreheads to better see who it was addressing them.
“Town’s ordinance,” the dark outline said, “no guns allowed.”
The leader squinted as he tried to see the man whose voice told him that he was the authority, “This here’s a ghost town, mister, an’ in a ghost town a man carries a gun ta protect him from getting snake bit. Now, come on in where we can see ya.”
The silhouette’s head shook from side-to-side as the voice answered, slow and deliberate, “This ain’t no ghost town, fellas, an’ as sheriff, I’m sayin’ take them guns off an’ lay ‘em real easy on the bar.”
“Ha!” the big man laughed, as he looked at his two, not-so-sure friends, “what towns got a sheriff these days?”
“This town does,” said Bob standing in front of Anne.
“I got this, Mayor,” said Cal. Then turning his attention to the big, man went on, “If ya don’t lay them guns down,
I’m gonna take them from ya an’ run ya outta town three men on one bike.”
“Come on, Duffy,” said one of the motorcycle riders.
“Hey Slim,” Duffy answered without taking his eyes off of the silhouette; “I always wanted ta try my hand at an old fashioned shootout. Why don’t you and Clem stand down and watch.” He addressed Cal again, “Hey, sheriff, if ya got any guts meet me out in the street.”
He was shocked when Cal quickly stepped away and called out, “Come on out, scum, an get yer dues.” Duffy looked around and not sure what to do, said, “Sheriff, ya could get dead real fast if I come out there.”
“You either come out with no gun or face me.”
Just then, two elderly women carrying folded linen walked in, both oblivious of the ongoing confrontation. Bob grabbed them both and pushed them into Anne’s hands. The smallest one broke away and said, as she realized what was happening, “Come on Maybell. Let’s leave. We can come back later.”
Bob made a grab for her again but she was spry and said as she and her friend walked out of the bar, “Mayor, don’t you fret non. Its sheriff Sullivan these goons are up against. He’ll soon have his way.”
Reassessing their situation, Duffy’s two friends placed their six-guns on the bar and ran out with their hands held high. “It ain’t us, sheriff. We don’t want no trouble.”
Furious at his friend’s deserting him and knowing that all eyes were on him, Duffy stomped out into the bright sunlight with one hand hovering over his gun and the other shading his eyes. “I’m coming out, sheriff, and heaven help ya as I ain’t about ta lay my gun down.”
Both men squared off in the main street and while the big biker was tense and fidgety, Cal was calm and cool. In a second, Duffy’s grabbed his gun and shots rang out as Bob saw what the elderly woman meant: Duffy’s gun flew up in the air and was shot repeatedly in mid-air by the relaxed sheriff. His last two shots were in the tires of one of the motorcycle.
Duffy was on the verge of both crying and fainting when Cal said in a booming voice, “Get on yer friend’s bike an’ go. Come back, an’ don’t blame me fer yer obituary.”
He ran and the three men rode out on two bikes.
Bob and Anne stood in the doorway and she said as she clung tightly to Bob with her eyes closed. “Is-Is he dead? My God what’s happening here?”
“Shhh,” said Bob as he held her tightly. He watched the two motorcycles drive off as Cal approached him, removing the spent shells from his smoking gun.
“That’s the last we’ll see of them,” he said as he took a bullet out of his gun belt and started to reload. He slid the bullet into the empty chamber and saw that Bob was looking at him with an open mouth.
“What’s up, partner?”
“W-What just happened here, Cal?”
The cowboy shrugged and answered, “Well shucks, Bob, didn’t you see it all? I mean you and your lady friend were in the thick of it.”
Bob answered, vigorously nodding his head, “Yes I saw it! I mean, what the heck…? Does this kind of thing happen a lot? I mean, well, you just sort of took it all in, real casual like.”
Cal finished loading, holstered his weapon and then bit his lip as he answered, “Son, I once read a story in the newspaper where a man walked into a store in New York City an’ just robbed an’ shot the owner. Now, if there was an off-duty policeman there he would have been stopped him. Me? I’m in charge of my tour group an’ sometimes have ta make some mighty fast decisions an’ this quickly became one of those decisions. If that man could have gotten his way, him an’ his friends would still be here trying to get more an’ who knows where he’d stop? So, I had ta act.”
Bob placed a hand on Cal’s shoulder and said, “And I’m really glad that you did, it’s just that it happened so fast and what if he had shot you?”
“Ha,” said Cal with a wide grin, “That dumb cuss never had a chance. I let him stare at me in the doorway, knowin’ that the sun was at my back so when he walked out ta greet me in the street he was half blind already. And, in case ya didn’t notice, as he faced me in the street, I had my back to the sun and once again he was at a disadvantage by havin’ ta look into the sun over my shoulder.”
“Well,” said an impressed Bob, “You seemed to, to, well, to be in charge. I mean that lady calling you sheriff and all.”
“Miss Delany? Ha! She been with the tours a long time, partner, an’ maybe she saw me pull rank on a drunk or two over the years, that’s all.”
“Pull rank? From where I stand, you were the sheriff keeping law and order.”
Now Cal put his arm around Bob’s shoulder and said, “Son, this town of yours is so nice and pretty that sooner or later some bad varmints are gonna try their hand at getting’ something for free. They carry guns to protect them from snakes but can just as easily turn them on an easy target an’ if there’s no law and order, they’ll have the upper hand.”
Bob nodded, “So, is there something I should do?”
“Yep!” answered a smiling Cal with a slap on the back, “You hold a town meeting and we all vote for a sheriff and while we’re at it we might as well vote for the banker, the butcher, the carpenter.”
“What do you mean, the butcher and all? Why do we need to vote on them?”
“Because your town needs a charter. A charter that says you are open for business and recognize that Derma Jensen is the schoolmarm, that George and Amy Hampton are legal citizens of this town, that Hap can run the Horse and Grain Supply business and that the town folks are living here legal like.”
Bob nodded his agreement as Anne stepped to his side and added her thought, “Cal is right, Bob. You have to make Rattlesnake Haven as legal as possible because before you know it some political type person will try to get their hand in on it. Believe me I’ve seen it happen many times.”
“And step one is?” he asked with an open-handed shrug.
“Town meeting,” answered Cal. “Not with everyone, just a handful of the elders. I’ll have them gather up any questions the others might have an’ we’ll have a sit down, you, Anne and us.”
“Me? Why me?” asked Anne.
Cal answered, “Well, first off you an’ the mayor are kinda joined and the second thing is the fact that you got a foot in each side o’ this situation: A member of both Bransville, a town with a charter, and Rattlesnake Haven, a town without a charter.” Cal turned to Bob, “What do ya think, mayor?”
“I agree! When do we meet?”
The sheriff took off his hat and wiped his brow, “Tonight’s as good as any. I’ll have the elders start right away and get back to ya with a time. Okay, partner?”
“Okay with me, Cal. We’ll see you later on.” He escorted and helped Anne up onto the rig’s seat and they drove off.
“Would you like to eat out tonight?” he asked her as they rode away from the tavern.
Anne pursed her lips as she feigned deep thought and said, “Mmmm, Chinese or Italian food?”
He grinned as he said, “I thought maybe Kay’s Cuisine?”
They laughed as he drove the rig back to the barn.
After an outstanding, pork chops and potatoes dinner at Kay’s, Bob put a doggy bag together and back at home they fed the puppy. At eight o’clock Bob answered the tap at his door and greeted Cal as he led the small group of elders into the living room. Besides the fireplace, four oil lamps illuminated the area around the couch and easy chairs set up in a semi-circle and Bob added the kitchen chairs so all could sit.
Cal did the introductions: “You folks all know Bob McKillop, the mayor of Rattlesnake Haven and this here’s Anne Dallas his lady friend. They nodded and although Bob had met a few of them, Cal went through with the intros. “This is Lew Thredsen,” he said pointing at the thin, gray haired man. “He is an undertaker and would like to run the small parlor in town,” he looked at the man and went on, “Not that anyone looks forward ta his services, but needed sooner or later.” Lew grinned, nodded and sat as Cal continued, “
Next we have Jane Barnes, who is hoping to open Jane’s Vegetable and Seed shop down the street a bit,” the smiling, pudgy woman waved with her fingers and sat as Cal went on. “Next is Aaron Herkizen, who would like ta run Aaron’s Home and Business Wallpaper, somethin’ he did fer years before retirin’.” Bob nodded at the heavyset man with a thick black beard and mustache that bobbed as he walked. “Then we have the man that nobody wants ta see professionally, Dr. Chuck Bain, our dentist. He would fit in real nice in the town’s Dentist office.” The man was black with pure white hair and sideburns that went up as he gave a big toothy smile. “Next is our schoolmarm, Derma Jensen, and besides me and Jean there is Tim Holden, our resident, cowboy, horse whisperer, barn fixer-upper and all around nice guy who don’t hardly ever smile.” He grinned as they all sat.
Anne stood and said as she went to the kitchen, “Coffee for all?” and with nods all around, she and Jean poured mugs and placed them on a sideboard. After all were settled, Cal opened the meeting by passing it to Bob by saying, “Being this is the first official meeting of the town of Rattlesnake Haven, I say that Mayor Robert P. McKillop should start by saying a few words.”
All agreed with “Ayes.”
Bob was caught unprepared and looked at Anne who winked and tilted her head in the universal sign of, ‘go ahead, you can do it,’ and he stood shakily, both hands resting on his cane in front of him.
“Uh, well, good evening everyone. I’m not sure what to say, but as I see it, the town of Rattlesnake Haven is lucky to have you all here. Now, I’ll take a seat and let’s see where this all goes.”
He sat at the polite applause and Anne’s gentle pat of approval on his hand.
Once again Cal stood and said as he addressed his wife, Jean. “Folks, Jean here has generously volunteered ta take the notes of this meeting. Now,” he said still standing, “I think the first thing on the agenda is ta agree that Rattlesnake Haven is a for-real town that has needs just like any other town as the only difference between us and any other town is that this town is a hundred years older than most.” All smiled their agreements as he went on. “I wrote down a list of things that the good folks of this new town has wished us ta think about an’ would like ta read them to ya’all for a vote.” Looking around at the nodding group, he went on.
Romance in a Ghost Town Page 29