Sathow's Sinners

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Sathow's Sinners Page 3

by Marcus Galloway


  “On that,” Deaugrey said, “we can agree. There’s nothing for us in this town anyway. Shall we take our leave?”

  Frank threw an easy wave at the group of men who were now looking in his direction. “Sounds like a good idea,” he said quietly. “And if you could resist the urge to raise your voice until we’re gone, I’d be very appreciative.”

  “I suppose I can do that.”

  Both men strolled toward Nate at a brisk pace without appearing to be in a rush. “Since you’re feeling so agreeable,” Frank said, “perhaps you could answer a question for me.”

  “Depends on what the question is.”

  “Where were you keeping all of that silverware?”

  Deaugrey looked over at Frank with a vaguely surprised grin on his face. Draping an arm over the other man’s shoulders, he said, “There are some questions with obvious answers and some with answers you truly don’t want to know. That question, my friend, is both.”

  Frank accepted that with a slow nod, which quickly built into heartfelt laughter. By the time they’d reached the spot where Nate was standing, Deaugrey had joined in the merriment as well. Nate took one last pull from his cigarette, flicked it on the ground and stomped it out beneath his foot. “I see you two are getting along better than usual,” he said.

  “At least he’s good for a bit of conversation,” Deaugrey said. “You’ve barely said two words to me since I agreed to come along.”

  “‘Agreed’?” Nate grunted. “I suppose you’d rather be rotting in that sanitarium.”

  “Not hardly.” Stepping up to the tired gray mare standing next to Nate’s gelding, Deaugrey patted the animal’s flank and said, “She’s not much to look at, but I suppose she’ll do. I like the color.”

  “Thanks,” Frank said. “Hopefully you like that one’s color as well.”

  Glancing in one direction and then the other as if he didn’t even see the mule, Deaugrey asked, “Which now?”

  Frank pointed at the mule, but Deaugrey grimaced as if he’d just been asked to eat it raw. When he looked over to Nate, all he got was a nod. “You expect me to ride this out of town?” Deaugrey asked. “This?!”

  “That or walk,” Nate replied, “because you sure as hell ain’t riding in the saddle behind me. The only ones who get to do that are a whole lot prettier than you.”

  “Don’t look at me,” Frank said. “My charity only extends so far.”

  “That’s fine talk from the two of you. Especially since you expect me to offer my assistance on whatever treacherous outing you’ve lined up.”

  “You don’t have to offer your assistance,” Nate said while climbing into his saddle. “I’m taking it all the same.”

  “There’s not even a saddle.”

  “We’ll pick one up in the next town we find. This one’s about to get too hot for us. There’s a posse forming to hunt down the lunatic that escaped from McKeag’s earlier today.”

  “Imagine that,” Deaugrey mused. “Almost as frightening as the prospect of a man needing to ride across this great sprawling land of ours on the back of a mule.”

  “We’re not crossing the country,” Nate told him.

  “Still . . . no saddle?”

  “Do you have a blanket?”

  “No.”

  Nate made a sound as if he were trying to suck something out from between his teeth. “Then I guess there’s no saddle. Come along with me like we agreed or stay behind to face the music. Your choice.” Without another word, Nate pointed his horse’s nose away from the hitching post and flicked his reins. The spotted gelding took even less interest in Deaugrey’s predicament than his rider had and ambled down the street with a casual swish of its tail.

  “Here,” Frank said, tossing a bundle to the man who stood watching Nate in disbelief.

  Deaugrey caught the bundle as it unfolded to reveal itself as the dressing gown that had been wrapped around his body when he’d started his very eventful day. Despite all the hard times that utilitarian piece of clothing had seen him through, Deaugrey was none too appreciative for its return. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  “You take what you’re given,” the preacher said, “and be thankful you weren’t forgotten altogether.”

  “Aw, to hell with this.”

  Shifting in his saddle, Frank swept aside his coat to show one of the .38s holstered at his hip. “Watch that tongue of yours, boy. Some of the Lord’s servants are more forgiving than others.”

  Frank got his horse moving at a pace that would catch up to Nate’s in roughly two miles. The expression on Deaugrey’s face was a mix of aggravation and smugness. The latter threatened to overtake the former when it became clear that neither of the other men was going to turn around and force him to follow them. Elsewhere in town, a commotion was brewing that had the promise to become quite a storm. Among the shuffling of hooves against packed dirt, the words “capture” and “drag back” could be heard interspersed with “beat him to a pulp.”

  “God da—” Wincing as he looked at Frank’s back, Deaugrey threw his old gown across the mule’s back and climbed onto the tired animal. “Damn it,” he grunted. “Just . . . damn it.”

  4

  Kansas

  Two days later

  The clatter of shod hooves against dusty rock sang out behind Nate in an uneven staccato entwined with heavy, grunting breaths. By the time Deaugrey’s mule caught up to his horse, Nate swore the sorry thing was going to flop over and die on the spot. At first, it overshot him. Then, after several frantic tugs on a set of old reins that had been coiled at the bottom of Frank’s saddlebag for the better part of a year, Deaugrey fell behind once again.

  “Jesus H.— Sorry, Reverend,” Deaugrey said.

  “I’m not a reverend,” Frank said.

  “Whatever. Will you let me catch up, Nate?”

  “I’m not trying to stop you, Grey.”

  Finally pulling alongside Nate and then matching his speed through concerted effort and sheer force of will, the mule plodded next to the gelding like a duck trying to keep pace with a bobcat. “How much farther to that town you mentioned?” Deaugrey asked. “I think this animal you provided is about to drop.”

  “Shouldn’t be far now.”

  “I hate to sound contrary, but didn’t we pass a town just before we made camp last night?”

  “That’s not being contrary,” Nate said. “That’s just asking a question.”

  Flustered, Deaugrey twisted around to get a look at Frank. The man in the black coat and shirt nodded. “He’s right. Being contrary means you go against most everything that’s being said.”

  When Deaugrey looked back to him, Nate said, “You can look it up if you like.”

  “If you ever wonder why I sometimes lose my mind, all you’ll have to do is think about moments like these.”

  “Speaking of that, how’d you wind up tossed into the bin this time, Grey?” Nate asked. “I heard about Jefferson City, but that would have landed you in a jail cell. What’d you do to convince folks you were too crazy to roam free? Burn down another restaurant?”

  “I’m not talking about that. And in case you’ve lost your memory, my name isn’t Grey. It’s Deaugrey. Dooooh-graaaay.”

  Nate shifted back and forth in his saddle, expertly acclimating to every movement of the horse beneath him. His head swayed ever so slightly and when it swung back toward Deaugrey, he raised an eyebrow and said, “Talking to me like that, like I’m an idiot child, it’s a real good way to get yourself hurt.”

  “So’s taunting a man who was, until very recently, considered dangerously unstable.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “So what’s the job that was so important you came all this way to break one Virginian out of incarceration?”

  Nate Sathow had seen many different brands of incarceration. Not one of t
hem included renovated mansions, clean dressing gowns and rocking chairs. Rather than debate the finer points of misery with Deaugrey, Nate said, “I’d rather not get into it until we’re all in one place.”

  “Can you at least tell me who ‘we’ are?”

  “Sure. You, me, Frank and Pete.”

  After thinking for a few seconds, Deaugrey asked, “Pete who?” Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Not Pete Meyer.”

  “The same.”

  “That oaf knocked me unconscious the last time we were forced to work on the same job!”

  “Which is something damn near anyone who knows you has wanted to do at some time or another,” Nate said.

  When he glanced back at Frank, Deaugrey got an affirming nod from the preacher. Since he was getting no help there, Deaugrey said, “Well, I can’t guarantee I won’t lose my normally cheery disposition once we’re in too close of a proximity.”

  “I’ll roll those dice.”

  “What’s the pay?”

  “You’ll like it just fine,” Nate said.

  When Deaugrey pulled back on his reins, he nearly slid out of the saddle they’d purchased the previous day. They hadn’t been able to find anything priced within the pittance Nate had been willing to spend, so Deaugrey wound up sitting on a collection of leather scraps stitched together with twine. He didn’t know the materials for certain, but the sore spots on his rump told Deaugrey that they surely hadn’t been chosen by a true craftsman. “We’ve known each other a long time, Nate,” he said. “And yes. I do owe you for getting me out of McKeag’s but I’m not an indentured servant! I insist on knowing what I’m in for.”

  Since it was clear that the mule’s rider was even more stubborn than the animal itself, Nate brought his horse to a stop and turned it around. He approached Deaugrey, glaring down at him with enough fire in his eyes to make the mule shift nervously on its tired hooves. Finally, he said, “You’re right.”

  “Yes,” Deaugrey said in a valiant effort to keep from looking as if he’d dodged a bullet. “Of course I am.”

  “The pay is guaranteed to be at least two thousand each.”

  “Two thousand? I would think it would take a bit more than that for you to go through all the trouble of collecting me.”

  “Plus bonuses,” Nate added.

  Deaugrey’s smile would have been just as fitting for a starving wolf. “Now you’re talking! What kind of bonuses?”

  “The man we’re after has been on the run for a time and has plenty of men who want him brought back. If we can make a list of the names of anyone willing to help this son of a bitch, we’ll be paid extra. If we bring in the sons of bitches themselves, that’s even more.”

  For the first time in quite a while, Deaugrey didn’t have a response cocked and loaded. Far from stunned, he merely nodded slowly as the wheels inside his arguably derailed mind began to turn.

  “And then there are the acquaintances,” Frank said from the rear of the small procession.

  “Acquaintances?” Deaugrey asked.

  “Oh yes,” Nate replied with a similarly wolfish smile. “Between the man we’re after and the bastards lending him a hand in remaining free while killing anyone he pleases, there will be plenty of assholes trying to join up with them. The sorts of assholes who commit their own list of sins.”

  “The kind of sins that put a price on a man’s head,” Frank said.

  “Well now,” Deaugrey said as he turned in his saddle to get a look behind him. “That’s something you’d know all about, Preacher.”

  “Indeed it is.”

  “Is that enough to get your ass moving again?” Nate asked.

  Deaugrey reached out to pat his animal’s neck. “Oh! You mean the mule?”

  “Whatever floats your boat.”

  When Deaugrey snapped his reins, he barely caught the mule’s interest. After a few taps of his heels against its sides, the mule started walking again. “How long will we be out and about looking for these miscreants?”

  “As long as it takes to find ’em.”

  “And I don’t suppose you know where to find Pete . . . exactly?”

  “He should still be in a town called Marlonn no more than another half day’s ride from here.”

  Deaugrey’s avarice lit him up from within like a candle inside a lantern. “What are we waiting for, then?” he said while snapping his reins. “Let’s proceed!”

  Although the proclamation would have been more dramatic if his mule clopped forward at more than a purposeful walk, Frank and Nate still followed his example.

  5

  Marlonn, Kansas

  By the time they arrived in town, the sun was nowhere to be found. Its warmth had remained for a short amount of time before being dispersed by the shadows that had rolled in to claim the barren Kansas landscape. Marlonn was a simple cow town and not a very impressive one at that. As he rode from one street to another, Nate barely took time to look at the darkened windows or take notice of the faces staring out from behind them. Frank rode close to Deaugrey where he could occasionally tell him to remain calm and keep his mouth shut.

  “Don’t you tell me to stay calm,” Deaugrey snapped. “There’s eyes watching us from everywhere and they’re not the sort that them doctors tell me about. You should be able to see ’em too!”

  “I do see them,” Frank assured him. “So long as they keep their distance, they offer no threat.”

  “You may be accustomed to the presence of unseen spirits, but I assure you they don’t all answer prayers and turn water into wine.”

  Under most circumstances, Frank could let Deaugrey’s words roll off his back. This wasn’t one of them, and the preacher reared up to unleash all the fire and brimstone he could muster. Knowing all too well what was coming, Nate cut him off in a hurry. “Enough of that, the both of you,” he said.

  Frank and Deaugrey bit their tongues.

  “We’re to meet Pete at that saloon right there,” Nate said while pointing to an establishment that had more activity flowing in and around it than the rest of the town combined. “If you’re gonna insist on squabbling like children, then go rent a room and stay in it!”

  “You’ll let me go into the saloon?” Deaugrey asked.

  So far, Nate had insisted that the crazy man stay away from any of the saloons they’d passed. There were plenty of good reasons for that, the least of which was Deaugrey’s tendency to flap his gums.

  “Yes,” Nate said. “You can go into this one. Just try not to get too drunk too fast.”

  “I’ll need a gun,” Deaugrey said. “In case things get rough.”

  “Give him a gun, Frank.”

  Drawing one of his .38s, Frank spun the pistol around to slap the grip into Deaugrey’s hand.

  That kept everyone satisfied for the time it took them to ride up to the Three Dog Saloon and tie their horses next to a water trough. As the animals slaked their thirst, Nate walked inside the saloon. When Deaugrey started to walk forward, he was stopped by one of Frank’s outstretched arms.

  “Hang back for a spell,” the preacher said.

  Deaugrey nodded and stared at the front window as though he could see all the way through to the exact bottle he meant to bring to his lips.

  The Three Dog was a large place with a bar taking up one wall and a small stage situated against the opposite wall. In between were at least two dozen tables, the largest of which were being used for card games of all sorts. Clusters of drunken cowboys bucked the tiger at one of three faro tables near the back and women of all shapes and sizes wandered through the crowd until they were summoned by a wandering hand or hungry stare.

  Nate strode to the bar and was jostled along the way by a stumbling drunk. “Watch where you’re walking, asshole!” the drunk snarled. When he got a good look at the gruesome promise etched into Nate’s eyes, the drunk was all too happy t
o turn his attention elsewhere and stagger away.

  Upon reaching the bar, Nate rapped his knuckles against the polished wooden surface to catch the ear of one of the two tenders on duty. The woman who responded to his summons was a stout lady in her late forties with long dark hair and a bosom that spilled up and slightly over the top edge of her corset. She smiled warmly at him and asked, “What’s your pleasure, mister?”

  “I’m looking at it,” Nate said.

  Although she clearly wasn’t new to being propositioned in any number of ways, the lingering smile on her face showed she didn’t exactly mind it this time. “Why don’t you start with a drink?”

  “Gladly. Set me up with the house specialty and a cigar.”

  She turned around amid the rustle of skirts so she could reach for a bottle on the shelf behind her. When she bypassed the expensive labels for something with a handwritten label, Nate suspected she might actually be filling his request instead of passing off a brand of liquor that would demand the highest price. Once she poured the drink, she reached beneath the bar to give him a lingering view down the front of her dress.

  The whiskey was smooth and cut nicely through the trail dust that had gathered in the back of Nate’s throat. He exhaled as it continued to burn all the way down to his stomach. Before he could lift the glass again, another scent caught his attention. It was the combination of a fine cigar and the perfumed hand holding it. “Thanks,” he said while taking the cigar from the bartender.

  She was quick with a match and snapped her wrist to extinguish the little flame as soon as the tip of Nate’s cigar began to glow. “Anything else I can get for you?”

  “Sure. You wouldn’t happen to know anyone named Pete, would ya?”

  “Can you be a little more specific?”

  “Pete Meyer.”

  Her eyes widened a little and she nodded. “Oh yes. I know him all right. If you’re a friend of his, you might want to loan him some money. He needs it.”

 

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