A Reason to Die

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A Reason to Die Page 5

by William W. Johnstone

“I reckon not,” Perley answered. “It’s gettin’ along toward sundown. I expect I’d best go on and make camp tonight, unload my horses, and bring the sorrel back in the mornin’.” He was thinking about the time he was going to spend helping Penny and Jenny get settled, and that was most likely not going to happen tonight. On the other hand, Porter might do a better job if he wasn’t trying to hurry in order to get home to supper.

  “That’s a good idea,” Porter was quick to agree, obviously relieved. “I’ll look for you in the mornin’.”

  Penny urged his team of horses on again. Perley held Buck close beside the wagon seat, the better to hear Penny’s rambling introduction of the fledgling town as they rolled past each business.

  “This is Willard Spence’s general store. Willard’s wife, Ellie, helps out in the store. Fine people. The Blue Creek Saloon,” he continued as they passed the only two-story building on the short street. “A fellow from Omaha, named Jim Squires, built it.” Next came the tiny post office and Penny said, “John Blessing is our postmaster.”

  Perley couldn’t help but wonder if Blessing wound up there because of his name, like he did—divine coincidence in Penny’s mind.

  “That’s the sheriff’s office next to the post office,” Penny continued. “The town council hired a young man named Marvin Kelly to be sheriff. He was a deputy over in Ogallala and he moved his wife and three children up here when he heard we were looking for a sheriff. He ain’t called upon to do much beyond haulin’ in a drunk once in a while to sleep it off in his jail cell.”

  They continued out the north side of town until Penny turned toward the creek on a couple of ruts that served as a wagon road.

  “It doesn’t look like anybody’s been here,” Jenny said when they came to a small clearing in the trees that lined the creek. “The cookhouse looks just like I left it.”

  Perley followed her gaze to a small three-sided shed, approximately eight feet square, with a stovepipe protruding through the roof. Evidently, that was where she did the cooking, but he saw no stove connected to the stovepipe. Maybe they were hauling it in the wagon.

  He found out soon enough that she had no stove. The canvas-wrapped object he had glimpsed in the wagon and thought to be a stove, was, in fact, a small organ. She cooked over a fire pit, fashioned with rocks, and the stovepipe merely served as her chimney. He, of course, helped to pitch their tent, which wasn’t as much a job as he had anticipated, having expected a large tent big enough to hold a whole congregation of people. In contrast, it turned out that the tent was to house Penny, his wife, and their two children, and was no bigger than an army squad tent. When he held church services, they were conducted out in the open.

  No wonder their major concern is a building, Perley thought. Especially when cold weather is not that far away. The preacher and his family needed not only a church, they needed a house.

  When the Penny family at least had a canvas shelter over their heads, Perley helped Penny unload the organ and set it up inside the tent.

  With time to finally see to his own needs, he moved a few dozen yards downstream to make his camp. Of major concern, as usual, were the four sacks of seed corn he packed, but there seemed to be little chance anyone might raid his camp. There appeared to be no threat in the small community where everyone knew everyone else. He decided the best thing to do was not to demonstrate any concern for his packs. He didn’t plan to spend much time with his hosts after supper was finished, anyway, so he wouldn’t be away from his camp very long.

  The supper hour lasted a good bit longer than Perley had expected, due primarily to Lawson Penny’s enthusiasm for what he was convinced was his calling—to bring the Word of God to the people of Blue Creek Valley. Contributing to Perley’s extended stay were the biscuits Jenny had baked in the oven Penny had built in the ground.

  After listening to the preacher’s dreams of building his church, Perley had to ask the question obvious to him. “You figure you can raise the kinda money it’ll take to buy the lumber and such for your church? I didn’t see but four or five businesses when we rode through town.”

  “I know it doesn’t look possible when you just look at the town,” Penny replied. “But what you don’t see are the folks workin’ farms around the county. Jenny’ll tell you, we were already gettin’ a lot of those folks at my Sunday services, and they were helpin’ out as best they could when the collection plate was passed.” He looked toward his wife and she confirmed with a nod.

  “As they grow and the town grows,” he went on, “there’ll be more businesses and more folks. They’ll want their church for themselves and their children.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Perley said. “Least I hope so.” He had his doubts, however, but didn’t express them because Penny believed it so passionately. Glancing at Jenny while her husband was talking, Perley could see the same light of faith in her face.

  It was going to take a hell of a lot more than what little bit the congregation could spare in the collection plate for the lumber and carpenters to build his church, however.

  The doubt must have been on Perley’s face, causing Penny to grace him with a patient smile. “It’ll happen. The Lord’s given me enough signs to tell me that. You came along, bringin’ me a message that I oughta stay right here.”

  Perley wasn’t quick enough to hide the skepticism on his face.

  Penny said, “The messenger don’t always know what’s in the message.” He smiled and continued. “Day after tomorrow’s Sunday. We got back before most of our people even know we had gone.”

  “That is a fact,” Perley replied, thinking about his unguarded camp. “I expect I’d best get on back to my horses. I enjoyed havin’ supper with you folks. Except you,” he added and playfully tousled Luke’s hair.

  The young boy had rarely left his side during the supper hour.

  “Can you come to church Sunday?” Luke asked. “You can hear Papa preach.”

  Perley couldn’t remember the last time he had been to church. He’d prayed plenty of times, but seldom inside a building built specifically for that purpose. “I reckon I’d best get along toward Texas. I’m already gonna lose half a day tomorrow while I get my horse some shoes.” There was no chance of missing the disappointment registering on Luke’s face.

  “Luke’s got a good idea there,” Penny said. “I’d consider it a real honor if you would stay over one more day and join us for church. How ’bout it, Perley?”

  “Yes, Perley,” Jenny chimed in. “Won’t you stay over?”

  Perley didn’t know how to tell them that he’d rather take a whipping than go to church, even one that didn’t have a roof. He had a small fortune he was anxious to transport safely to his family in Texas and had already lost two days on the trail. They seemed so genuine in their hope that he would stay, however, that he found it difficult to turn them down.

  Finally, he relented. “I reckon it wouldn’t throw me too far behind to stay here one more day, but I’ll expect some powerful preachin’ outta you.”

  His decision was met with an almost joyous response from all. Little Mary even smiled—Perley had thought that she never did.

  “I’ll be packin’ up all my possibles and ridin’ into town in the mornin’. I’ll put my horses up at the stable and sleep with them tomorrow night.”

  “We’ll be expecting you for dinner on Sunday,” Jenny said.

  “Ah, n-no, ma’am,” he stammered. “I don’t wanna put you out no more ’n I already have. Besides, I don’t wanna cost you any money you might be savin’ to build that church.”

  “No need to worry your mind about that,” Jenny said. “Our congregation always brings a chicken or two, sometimes a ham or some vegetables. There’ll be food enough.”

  Little Mary spoke up then. “Maybe he’ll just ride outta town when his horse is fixed and not even come here on Sunday.”

  That was what I was thinking about doing, until you said it, Perley thought. “Why, that wouldn’t be a very polite thi
ng to do, would it? I’ll be here. I wouldn’t miss hearin’ your daddy preach.”

  * * *

  Perley was waiting in front of the stable when Frank Mosely showed up the next morning.

  “Well, good mornin’,” Mosely greeted him. “You’re up early this mornin’.”

  “Mornin’,” Perley returned. “I’d like to leave my horses with you for a couple of days, and if it’s all right with you, maybe leave my packs somewhere where they’ll be out of the way.”

  “Why, sure,” Mosely said. “Glad to have the business. Did you catch Leonard in time yesterday?”

  “Yes, sir, I did, and as soon as I get ’em unloaded, I’m gonna take the sorrel over to his place.”

  “Come on,” Mosely said. “I’ll show you which stalls you can use and a room for your saddle and packs. You need help unloadin’ your stuff?”

  Perley said he didn’t, so Mosely led him past some stalls and pointed to the ones he should use.

  Mosely then continued beyond them to a door at the back of the stable. “This is sort of a catchall room, odds and ends—mostly stuff that’s been takin’ up room in the tack room.” He opened the door. “There ain’t much in here right now, so you’re welcome to use it.”

  “’Preciate it,” Perley said. “This’ll do just fine and it’ll get my stuff out of the way. After I’ve unloaded my horses, I’ll turn ’em out in the corral.”

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Mosely said. “I’ve gotta go throw down some more hay.” He left to do his morning chores, showing no interest in what Perley had in the packs.

  * * *

  With his seed corn bags in a pile under his cooking pan and coffeepot, his supplies and extra clothes, ammunition, and smoked venison, Perley left Buck and his late grandpa’s paint gelding in the corral and led the sorrel down to the blacksmith shop. As he had at the stable, he caught Leonard Porter just coming to work.

  “Mornin’,” Porter greeted him. “Pearly Gates, right?” he asked as if not certain he had heard right when Lawson Penny had introduced him the day before.

  “That’s right,” Perley answered, “just like the gates in heaven, only it ain’t spelt the same.”

  “Well, let me get my fire goin’ and I’ll have another look at that hoof,” Porter said. “It won’t take long, once I get my forge heated up.”

  “Take your time,” Perley said. “I’m gonna be in town all day. Come to think of it, you might take a look at the other three hooves while you’re at it.”

  “Be glad to,” Porter responded. “I gave ’em a quick look yesterday and they seemed all right, but I’ll look a little closer. How’d you meet up with Reverend Penny?”

  Perley told him about the chance meeting with the preacher and his family when they had happened to pick the same spot to camp.

  “Well, I know I ain’t the only one glad to see him and Jenny come back home,” Porter said. “Folks in Blue Creek know we need a strong church if we’re gonna be a town that lasts. Wonder what changed his mind about leaving?”

  “I ain’t got any idea,” Perley replied with no intention of telling him that Penny decided that their coincidental meeting was a sign from God. Ready to change the subject, he asked, “Anyplace here where a man could get some breakfast? I didn’t take time to cook any myself this mornin’.”

  “Yeah, you can get something to eat in the saloon. It ain’t fancy, but Jim Squires has a woman workin’ for him that’ll cook up something for you that’ll stick to your ribs. Right now, that’s the only place to eat, but it won’t be long before somebody comes along and builds a diner. We’d like to see a hotel in town, but I don’t look for that to happen anytime soon. Blue Creek ain’t really on the way to anywhere.” Porter looked up as if to apologize for rambling on about the town. “Anyway, we’ll get there now that Lawson Penny has decided to stick it out till we can raise enough money to build that church. Now, I’d best quit talkin’ and get to work. You go on over to the saloon. Gussie’ll fix you something to eat.”

  Perley took his time to walk the short distance down the street to the saloon. He had only met a couple of people in the fledgling community, but he already had the impression that everyone saw the importance of a church. In his opinion, they were going to be a long time in building one.

  The saloon was open, but there were no patrons that early in the morning. The owner, Jim Squires, was seated at a table near the kitchen door, eating breakfast. He called out a greeting to Perley when he hesitated at the door. “Good mornin’, stranger. Come on in. We’re open.” He got up from the table and started toward the bar. “What’s your pleasure?”

  “I was just hopin’ I could find some breakfast,” Perley answered.

  “You came to the right place.” Squires looked toward the kitchen door and yelled, “Gussie!”

  After a moment or two, a short red-haired woman appeared in the doorway.

  “Fellow, here, is lookin’ for some breakfast.”

  Gussie cocked an eye at Perley standing there, then looked back at Squires. “What does he want for breakfast?”

  “I don’t know,” Squires answered, then looked at Perley. “What do you want for breakfast?”

  “I don’t know,” Perley replied, not expecting to have a choice. He had assumed the cook probably mixed up some kind of mush to dish out for those hungry enough to eat it. “Can I get something like eggs and maybe some ham?”

  Squires started to repeat the question to Gussie, but she interrupted him. “I heard him. I’ve got eggs, ham, and fresh-baked biscuits, too. Is that what you’re lookin’ for?”

  “Yes, ma’am. That ’ud be more than I expected. If there’s some coffee to wash it down, I’d be plum tickled.”

  She spun on her heel and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving him to pick a table to seat himself.

  “Why don’t you join me?” Squires invited. “This must be the first time you’ve been in Blue Creek. I never saw you before. Passin’ through, or are you gonna be here for a while?”

  Perley pulled a chair back and sat down. “Passin’ through. Least I was till I promised Lawson Penny I’d hang around to hear him preach tomorrow. I had to get one of my horses shod and that’s the reason I ended up in Blue Creek.”

  “You a friend of the preacher’s?”

  “Not till I met up with him about seven miles up the river. We’d both picked the same place to camp. I needed a blacksmith and he knew where one was.”

  “Last I heard, Penny packed up his tent and left town,” Squires said. “You sure he said he was coming back here?”

  “He’s already back,” Perley answered. “I ate supper with him and his wife last night.”

  They paused when Gussie came out holding a cup and a large gray coffeepot. She poured a cup for Perley and warmed Squires’, then she backed away as if waiting for her boss to ask the question.

  He didn’t disappoint her. “You ridin’ with a fellow named Wick Bass?”

  “Nope,” Perley replied. “I ain’t ridin’ with anybody. I’m on my way home to Texas.”

  His answer was enough to satisfy Gussie. She promptly turned and went back to the kitchen.

  “Well, welcome to Blue Creek,” Squires said, extending his hand. “I’m Jim Squires. This is my establishment. Glad you stopped in.”

  Perley shook his hand. “Perley Gates.”

  “Say what?” Squires replied, not understanding.

  “My name’s Perley Gates.”

  “The hell it is,” Squires responded with a chuckle. Then realizing that Perley was serious, he quickly apologized. “No offense. I’m pleased to meet you, Perley.”

  He was saved from further embarrassment when Gussie arrived with a plate of ham and eggs, two large biscuits riding shotgun. She remained long enough to see Perley’s reaction to her cooking. When he showed obvious satisfaction after a couple of bites, she returned to her kitchen.

  When Perley finished eating and asked how much he owed, Squires said, “We charge twenty-five cents fo
r breakfast and twenty-five cents for coffee.” He waited then for Perley’s complaint. When there was none, and Perley reached into his pocket for the money, Squires thought to mention another accommodation. “You say you’re stayin’ overnight in Blue Creek. I’ve got a couple of rooms for rent upstairs.”

  “I reckon I’ll be sleepin’ with my horses.” Perley was thinking the price of breakfast was high enough, although he had not complained. The price of a room might be comparable to that for the food.

  Not one to give up on a customer who appeared to have a little money on him, Squires was quick to offer further inducement. “Gussie ain’t only a good cook. For a little extra, she can see that you have an enjoyable night with us.” When Perley showed no interest, he sought to entice him. “Gussie may be a little older than you, but sometimes a little experience can make a world of difference. It’d be like havin’ your mother tuck you in tonight.”

  Perley was afraid that would be exactly what it would be like, so he quickly declined. “I’ll just finish my coffee and be on my way. Mr. Porter oughta be about through with my horse.”

  Squires had to get up and tend the bar then. Someone had walked into the saloon, so Perley took his time with his coffee.

  * * *

  “Won’t be long,” Leonard Porter sang out when he saw Perley returning from the saloon. “You were right to have me check all the shoes. A couple more of ’em were a little loose.”

  “Like I said, I ain’t in a hurry.”

  “Did Gussie fix you up with a good breakfast?”

  “That she did. I didn’t expect to get ham and eggs.”

  “Gussie can cook up a storm,” Porter commented. “She offers other services, too, but I wouldn’t go so far as to recommend ’em.” He started to comment further, but stopped before he got the next word out.

  Perley turned to see what had captured his attention and saw that he was staring at three men on horses, just pulling up to the saloon.

  “Damn . . .” Porter drew the oath out softly, talking more to himself than to Perley. “I was hopin’ to hell they were gone.”

  When Porter continued to stare at the three men until they disappeared into the saloon, Perley asked, “Somebody you know?”

 

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