Sins of Summer

by Dorothy Garlock

  Kraus had removed his duster. He was a big-boned man, weighing about two hundred pounds, most of it in his chest and shoulders. His thick, sandy hair was neatly trimmed, as was his handlebar mustache. A big silver star was pinned to his vest. Ben congratulated himself on reading the man right.

  “Loggin’s a hell of a lot easier now than in George’s time.” Wiley paused to spit. “Waller, here, brought in the donkey engine and set it up. That bugger’ll snake a log big around as a wagon wheel into a flume. Sure do wish old George had lived to see it.”

  “I’ve seen John Dolbeer’s snorting donkey operate. It’s a awesome sight to see a log six feet through and forty feet long come bounding through the woods, breaking off some trees as if they were twigs. The machine has been a boon to the logging industry.” Kraus’s sharp eyes honed on Ben. “Is that what brought you to the Bitterroot, Waller?”

  “Partly. Miss Callahan asked me to invite you to the noon meal,” Ben said, hoping to steer the conversation away from himself. “It will be ready soon.”

  “That’s very kind of her.” The marshal’s eyes were sharp but cautious. Ben had the impression that they saw everything, read everything, and that the man was well aware of the discord among the Callahans. Could he know, too, that Ben was an ex-convict?

  “Air ya here seein’ about the murders of the whores?” Wiley asked.

  “Among other things. The way I see it, the women killed were whores, but their murderer should be caught as well as one who murders a parson.”

  “Ain’t had nothin’ like it go on since I been here an’ that’s been a spell.” Wiley leaned over the side of his chair to spit in the can.

  “How long is that?”

  “More’n thirty year.”

  “There’s been a lot of new folks moving in, but you must know about all the old-timers.”

  “I do. The good ’uns as well as the bad ’uns.” Wiley spit again.

  “Hummm. How about you, Waller? You staying in the Bitterroot?”

  “Maybe a few weeks.”

  “Where you from?”

  “North of Spokane.”

  The door opened and Dory stepped out onto the porch. Her head up, her shoulders back, and she looked directly at the marshal.

  “The noon meal is ready. Come in and wash up.” She stepped forward and held out her hand to Marshal Kraus. “Marshal, I’m Dory Callahan. Welcome.”

  When Norm Kraus stood and looked at Dory, he blinked rapidly. Ben wanted to smile. Dory’s composure, in spite of her battered face, shook the man.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, as he took her hand.

  Dory led the way into the kitchen. Odette was pulling pans of hot bread from the oven. Meat, swimming in brown gravy, was cooking in the heavy iron skillet. The room was filled with the delicious aroma of the freshly baked bread.

  The cloth-covered table was set and fresh towels were at the washstand.

  “Marshal, this is Odette Waller, Mr. Waller’s daughter.” Dory made the introduction.

  “Howdy, miss.”

  “Happy to meet you, sir.” Odette smiled.

  “And this is my daughter, Jeanmarie. Honey, say hello to the marshal.”

  “Howdy, young miss.”

  “Hello. What’s that?” Jeanmarie pointed to the star on his vest.

  The marshal was taken aback for a minute. He looked at the tight short curls on the child’s head and then at the mother. The child’s curls were as red as a sunset, the mother’s soft brown like the pelt of a young otter.

  “It’s my badge,” he finally said.

  Dory indicated the washbench. “After you wash, please be seated. Come, I’ll set you on your stool. I’ll explain to you about the badge later.”

  Norm Kraus had a hearty German appetite. He ate large helpings of sauerkraut, boiled potatoes, venison and fresh bread. Odette waited on the table. She and Dory communicated by eye contact and hand signal even as Dory spoke the words aloud. Ben doubted the marshal was aware that Odette couldn’t hear. He caught him looking first at his face then at Dory’s, and knew that sooner or later he would ask the question.

  The table conversation centered on the heavy winter snow and the flooding in the lowlands due to the runoff. Dory and Wiley were eager for news. Kraus was a good talker. He told them about the fire that had almost destroyed Idaho City, formerly called Bannock, and about the clashes between the Mormons and several other Christian denominations. He explained that a group of men were working on making Idaho one of the United States and the capital would be down in the Boise Basin.

  “Wal, now. Wouldn’t that jist be somethin”? Ideeho, a state with a gov’ner an’ all.” Wiley seemed pleased with the idea.

  “It isn’t going to happen right away,” Kraus cautioned.

  Ben was content to listen. He was having trouble eating because his jaws were sore, and he couldn’t chew the venison. He noticed that Dory was having trouble too. She ate only potatoes and the soft part of the bread.

  Odette set the cobbler on the table. The pie was golden brown with juice bubbling in the slits she had cut in the crust. She set a pitcher of cream beside it and looked up to see the admiration in Ben’s eyes. She blushed prettily and winked.

  “This is your favorite, Papa,” she said, touching his shoulder. Then to Dory, “Sit still, I’ll get the coffeepot.”

  Ben was proud of her. What had become of the shy, almost speechless girl he had brought here? That she had blossomed was due to being with Dory. She even looked older, more woman than girl.

  The meal ended. The men pushed back their chairs, went to the porch, and then walked out toward the barn.

  CHAPTER

  * 19 *

  The marshal stopped to light a thin Mexican cigar.

  “Which one of you wants to tell me what’s been going on here?”

  “Harrumpt!” The sound came from Wiley.

  “What makes you think something has been going on?” Ben grinned a lopsided grin.

  “I’m not blind. Someone tried to beat the hell out of that woman in there, and not long ago either.”

  “Last night. Any other woman that I know of would have stayed in bed. I don’t think there’s a bone in her body that doesn’t ache.”

  “If it was you who did it, she gave you as good as she got,” the marshal said drily.

  “It sure as hell wasn’t me. I have plenty of faults, but beating women isn’t one of them. It was her half-brother, Milo Callahan.”

  “Why?”

  “The bastard had a low-down skunk with him who wanted to… ah… use her,” Ben told him angrily. “When she refused and stabbed the skunk with a fork, Milo beat her. He might have killed her if Wiley hadn’t stepped in.”

  “Verdammen! Her own brother was going to let a man rape her?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Where do you fit in all this?”

  “Because a woman killer is on the loose, James Callahan and I have been taking turns spending the night at the homestead. Wiley watches during the day. Last night was my night to come down.”

  Ben told the marshal the events of the night before and that he had gone to the mill site this morning and had given Milo the beating he deserved.

  “Can you prove what you say about the killing?”

  “Talk to Steven Marz and a man named Tinker. They heard two shots fired. Sid shot me in the arm; I shot him in the head.”

  “I’ll do that. I plan on riding on up to the mill.”

  “There’s one more thing,” Ben said, and glanced at Wiley. “I served six years in Washington Territorial prison. Another man confessed to the killing or I’d still be there. I don’t go around talking about it because some folks think once a convicted murderer always a murderer.”

  “I know about that. I recognized the name Ben Waller. I was a young deputy at the time of your conviction and a marshal when you were freed. For what it’s worth, more than a few lawmen thought you’d been railroaded.”

  “It would have been ni
ce to have known that at the time,” Ben said drily.

  “Is Milo Callahan at the mill?”

  “The last time I saw him he didn’t appear to be in any shape to travel.”

  “What about the brother, Louis Callahan?”

  “Mean and ugly. The only thing on his mind is how to clog the river and irritate Chip Malone.”

  “Who else is up there? How about the man who keeps the books? Is he there?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “How long has he been working for Callahan?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve only been here a few weeks.”

  Later Ben was to remember that Wiley hadn’t answered any of the marshal’s questions.

  “One more question. My aim is not to raise any hackles, and I’m half ashamed to ask the question after meeting the lady—but it’s my job to find out as much as I can about people. I’ve been told that Miss Callahan is a prostitute.”

  “You want to know if she’s a whore.” The words came from hard-clamped jaws. Ben felt himself stiffening, his chest getting tight. The emotion rioting through him was not wholly concealed behind his usually noncommittal expression.

  “Damnation!” Wiley snorted. “Them bastards has spread that stink ’round since Dory was knee-high to a pup. She had a young’un an’ warn’t married ’cause one of them cusses kilt her man. She ain’t no more a whore than I am.”

  “A crazy man looking for whores to kill wouldn’t know that. It’s believed, and I was told several times, that Dory Callahan is a whore. You’ve got to admit that you don’t see many bobbed-haired women in this part of the country that aren’t in the business one way or another.”

  Ben stood on wide-planted legs, his gaze locked with that of the marshal. When he spoke, his angry words were ground out from between clenched teeth.

  “What the hell has bobbed hair got to do with it? I’m telling you that she isn’t that kind. She’s a good, decent woman caught in a hell of a mess. Her two half-brothers hated her mother and for some ungodly reason hate her. They’re determined to ruin her. They’re the ones who’ve spread the stories about her.”

  “Nice family.”

  Ben snorted. “You don’t know the half.”

  “The main reason I rode up here was to check out Miss Callahan.” Marshal Kraus swung into the saddle and sat looking down at Wiley and Ben. “Now I want to see what kind of man tries to force his sister into degrading herself.”

  “I don’t think he’s too much to look at right now.”

  The marshal cracked a smile. “As far as I can find out, there’s only a half-dozen women in the pleasurin’ business left within a twenty-five-mile area. Until this killer is caught. I’d keep my eye on Miss Callahan.”

  “I intend to do just that.”

  Ben and Wiley watched the marshal ride away.

  “Harrumpt!” Wiley snorted. “I ain’t got much use fer lawmen.”

  “He seems to be a good, steady man doing his job.”

  “Wal, he ain’t goin’ ta catch no body ridin’ round with that star on his chest askin’ fool questions.”

  “I’d say he knows what he’s doing. Wiley, I’d like you to keep what I said about being in prison under your hat. I’ll tell Dory when the time is right.”

  “I ain’t ‘bout ta go blabbin’ what ain’t none a my business.”

  Two hours later James rode in on a lathered horse. Ben and Wiley were working on the tin chute that carried water from the well to the horse tank. Because Ben’s hands were in such bad shape, Wiley was doing the work and Ben was telling him how.

  “Hellfire! Here comes trouble, Ben. Hope ya can talk sense inta that boy.”

  James jumped off his horse and left the reins dragging.

  “Where’s Dory? By God, if that bastard’s hurt her I’ll kill him.” James stepped around his horse, stopped, and stared at Ben. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “It’s a long story. Come on into the bunkhouse and I’ll tell you about it.”

  “I’ve got to see Dory.”

  “She’s all right. There are things I want to tell you before you see her.”

  “Go on, son. I’ll take care a yore horse.” Wiley limped over and took the reins.

  James didn’t move. He stood as if his feet were planted in the ground.

  “Odette? Did he hurt Odette?”

  “No. She and Jeanmarie were upstairs. Dory got them out of the way.”

  “I’ll beat the living hell out of that sonofabitch. I’ll stomp his guts out!”

  “I’ve already done it. Well, I didn’t stomp his guts out, but you can bet your bottom dollar he knows he’s been in a fight.”

  “I should have been here. I’ve done a piss-poor job taking care of her.”

  “Stop whipping yourself. What’s done is done. Dory is worried you’ll go off half-cocked and get yourself killed. How did you find out so fast? I didn’t expect you until tonight.”

  “Tinker sent a man up to tell me as soon as they got back to the mill last night. I was up in the high timber and didn’t get back to camp until about noon.” James reluctantly followed Ben to the bunkhouse.

  For the second time that afternoon, Ben related what had occurred the night before.

  “You’d better know this, too. Louis blames Dory because she stabbed Sid. He drew back his fist to hit her. If he had, I’d a killed him. I came within an inch of it. Tinker stepped in and Louis backed off. He ordered me off the place—again.” Ben’s grin had no humor in it.

  “He’ll set the law on you for killing Sid.”

  “That’s been taken care of. The marshal rode in just before noon today. I explained, and he’ll talk to Tinker.”

  “I didn’t know there was a marshal within a hundred miles. Is he the one McHenry sent for?”

  “I expect so.”

  “I’d like to have seen you beat the shit out of Milo. Why did you do it? It was my job.”

  “Think a minute and you’ll figure it out. Part of the men would have sided with you, part with Milo. They have to go out as a team and work together. If I’ve learned one thing about working a crew, it’s that they don’t work well together if they’re at loggerheads with one another. It’s too easy for accidents to happen.”

  “Did many of the men side with Milo?”

  “A few. Tinker kept them in line. I had counted on him doing that.”

  “This blows the lid off. I’ll never work a crew again for Callahan and Company.”

  “A couple of your men have worked with a donkey engine before. I don’t think they’ll have any trouble if Milo and Louis leave them alone. It’ll handle just so much pressure. Over that, it’ll blow.”

  “I don’t care if the thing blows clear to hell.”

  “I do. I don’t want to see a man killed.”

  “Shit! I should have taken Dory and got out of here years ago.”

  “Dory told Louis that she was going to ask the judge to divide the company property in half, part for you and her and part for Louis and Milo. Louis got so angry he frothed at the mouth.”

  “That would kill him. He lives to best Chip Malone. I’ve never figured out why it’s so important to him. I wish it were possible to divide the company, but it isn’t. One part can’t make it without the other. The only thing we could do with our half would be sell to Malone. I don’t give a damn about the company right now. I’m worried about Dory. I never thought either one of them would go so far as to… hit her.”

  Ben stood looking down at James’s bent head. He was a good man. It was hard to believe that he and Dory were kin to Milo and Louis.

  “I’m breaking my promise to Dory when I tell you this. What happened here last night has been coming on for a while. The night Odette took sick, Milo had been here. Dory fought him to keep him away from Odette. He slapped her. Hard. I was surprised you didn’t notice her face. He has been hitting her for a year or two. She didn’t want you to know. She was afraid you’d end up with a bullet in the back.”

>   The eyes James raised to Ben’s were remarkably like Jeanmarie’s. They were filled with smoldering anger.

  “He wanted Odette? The bastard! Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t Dory tell me what had been going on?”

  “You were all she had… then. She was scared to death that she would lose you.”

  “Are you in love with my sister?”

  “I don’t know what being in love means. I like her a hell of a lot. Do you have any objections?”

  “No.” James stood, went to the window, and looked out. He was far more calm than Ben had expected him to be. “Chip Malone sent word that Marie had died. The funeral is tomorrow. I think he’s hoping Dory will go and take Jeanmarie.”

  “She won’t,” Ben said. “You’ll know why when you see her.”

  “Are you going to stay around for a while?”

  “I should take my daughter and get the hell away from here, but I’m staying. I have money coming and my tools are still at the mill.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  “No. When I’m dealt a hand, I play it out. If you decide to take Dory and pull out of here, you’ll never get a cent of your inheritance. If you stay, I’ll stand with you. If you go, I’ll help you as much as I can. I owe your sister a lot for what she’s done for Odette.”

  “I’m obliged to you,” James said quietly.

  Ben stood by the window and watched James walk across the yard to the house.

  “The boy’s settlin’ down,” Wiley said from behind him. “I seen the time when he’d a gone tearin’ up there and done somethin’ foolhardy. He ain’t never had no fear a nothin’, even when he was a tyke. He’s changed. He’s scared a leavin’ Dory all by her ownself.”

  “Maybe he’s learned to use his head for thinking instead of ramming.”

  The cook’s helper took warm water to Milo’s room and cleaned the blood from Milo’s battered face and hands while suffering the man’s insults. When he finished, Milo demanded a looking glass and the boy took him one. When he saw himself with a missing front tooth, he threw the glass across the room, and obscenities of every description rolled from his swollen mouth.