Maggie O'Bannen 1

by Joe Slade

  Conscious of a dozen eyes on her, Maggie followed Doc up the creaky staircase and along a narrow landing with rooms off one side. Bart pushed one of the doors open, steadying it as it swung on one hinge. He ushered them inside, rebalancing the door before stepping in after them. The dimly lit interior smelled stale, of sweat, sex and cheap perfume. A gaudy yellow dress hung from the bedpost, a discarded garter sat in the middle of the floor beside a single heeled shoe.

  Bart lengthened the wick in the lamp on the nightstand, brightening the room with flickering light. Maggie winced at the sight of the girl asleep in the bed. Only her face showed above the blankets pulled up under her chin. Cut and bruised, her lips split and nose smashed to a pulp it was easy to see she was in a bad way.

  Doc checked for a pulse. ‘She’s alive but barely. Do you know what happened?’

  As usual, he didn’t wait for an answer. Maggie held her breath as she watched him start to work. The girl didn’t stir.

  ‘One of those bastards we ran out of town, that’s what happened.’ Bart made no excuse for his language. ‘I look after my girls. I don’t allow any funny business, you know that, Doc. I made that clear to him when he offered me five dollars to spend the night with her. Didn’t stop him though. Bastard. I thought adding Flo to the deal would keep him quiet. Seemed to work for a while. Heard the girls laughing, the usual, you know and then Jesus Christ Almighty we heard that screaming.’ He pulled in a long breath as he wiped a hand across his forehead. ‘I thought she was dead when we found her.’

  ‘How long has she been like this?’ Doc asked calmly.

  He shrugged.

  Maggie heard movement in the hallway and tensed as the red head slipped into the room behind her.

  ‘What did he do to her?’ Maggie asked.

  Bart wrung his hands together. ‘Pistol-whipped her first then started cutting on her with a big knife.’

  The red head wailed.

  ‘Shut up, Flo. This is your fault. You shouldn’t have left her alone with him.’

  ‘My fault? I saw that big knife and I panicked. Anyone would have.’

  Bart slapped her hard across the cheek. ‘Guess you thought it was just a bit of fun when he was beating her senseless.’

  Maggie ignored the drama playing out beside her, watching as Doc uncovered more bloody gashes crisscrossing the pale skin on Sue-Anne’s breasts and belly.

  Flo started to sob, gradually leaning on Maggie for support. She shrugged her off, feeling her skin crawl where the woman’s hand had touched her arm.

  Bart shook his head and left.

  ‘What h-happened to you?’ Flo whispered.

  Maggie turned and stared at her. Flo pointed to the bulge in Maggie’s shirt where her arm was still strapped across her chest. With Sue-Anne clinging to life, it seemed a senseless question but Maggie refrained from a cruel rebuttal. Pale and shaking, it was clear Flo was barely holding it together.

  ‘A man shot me,’ Maggie said, keeping it simple.

  ‘W-why?’

  Maggie looked at the girl in the bed. Small and slim, she would have been no match for the strength of a madman. Maggie recalled how Walt McLean, a much smaller man, had been able to overpower her. If she hadn’t had the knife, she could have suffered the same fate as this poor wretch.

  ‘Because men are …’ She searched for the right word, surprising herself with the choice. ‘Bastards.’

  Doc turned his head to look at her and frowned. ‘Present company excluded, I hope.’

  She didn’t answer. She couldn’t in good faith. All the men she had ever known had wronged her in some way. Her father. Frank. Walt McLean. Rick Talbot. It was a short list but it formed her opinion with absolute certainty.

  ‘Not all of them,’ Flo corrected her. ‘Rick’s a good one. He busted in here like the place was on fire when he heard me screaming.’

  ‘Rick?’ Maggie asked, as if she had misheard.

  Flo grimaced as Doc rinsed a blood soaked washrag in a bowl on the nightstand. Instantly, the water turned a deep red.

  ‘I ain’t never seen such a look as he had on his face when he ripped the door clean off its hinges and busted in.’ Flo jammed her fist against her mouth. ‘If he hadn’t waited for Braddock to turn around, I reckon he might have killed him.’

  She had Maggie’s full attention now. ‘What do you mean he waited?’

  ‘He pulled his gun and told Braddock to turn around. That’s what done it for him. He didn’t see the knife until it was too late.’

  Maggie had a feeling she was missing something. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘If it hadn’t been for the others come running up the stairs … I reckon Braddock would have gutted him.’

  ‘Doc?’ Maggie said, making it a question.

  He shrugged without stopping his ministrations on the girl ‘You’d better go and take a look at him,’ he said. ‘Damn fool’d be just about dumb enough to die to impress you.’

  ~*~

  Rick was where they had left him, slumped over the table. Flo ran ahead and wrapped her arms around him, whispering in his ear. Savagely, Maggie pushed the woman aside.

  ‘Rick, are you hurt?’

  His face was white as milk and when he spoke his words were breathless and stilted.

  ‘It’s just a scratch.’

  She shoved him back in the chair, ignoring his gasp, and yanked open his black jacket. Beneath it, his shirt was slick with blood.

  Flo sobbed and made a move towards him, but a threatening look from Maggie warned her against it and she recoiled, instead screeching for the doc.

  ‘You fool, Rick,’ Maggie scolded him. ‘Why didn’t you say something?’

  His mouth twisted in the semblance of a smile. ‘I didn’t want you to think less of me than you already did.’

  ‘So you decided to bleed to death to prove a point?’

  She plucked at the shirt, easing it away from the wound, stopping when fresh blood coated her fingers.

  ‘I told you, it’s just a scratch.’ He tried to pull his jacket back over it, but his movements were awkward and he grasped at nothing. ‘The blade went straight through the fat. It’s noth—’

  ‘I’ll be the judge of that.’ Coming out of nowhere, Doc moved Maggie aside and examined the wound. ‘He’ll live but he’s going to need stitches. A couple of you men take him back to my place. Maggie, you clean him up and stop the bleeding. I’ll be there as soon as I’m finished here.’

  He left no room for doubt or argument and was already mounting the stairs two at a time before he finished issuing his orders. Without question, two volunteers yanked Rick to his feet and dragged him out. Flo tried to follow but Maggie pushed her back. She fell against the table, rubbing her hip.

  ‘What did you do that for?’ the whore moaned.

  ‘He doesn’t need your help.’

  Flo laughed derisively. ‘Are you afraid I might take him away from you?’

  Now it was Maggie’s turn to chuckle. ‘He doesn’t belong to me. I just thought maybe you’d be worried about your friend upstairs, especially since you stood by and did nothing while she was beaten half to death.’

  The girl shrunk back as if Maggie had slapped her then slowly her lips curled back from her rotten teeth in an ugly snarl. Perspiration beaded on her forehead and ran down her temple. She started to tremble with rage.

  Maggie knew she had said too much but something about Flo aggravated her. She tensed, ready for whatever the woman decided to do.

  ‘Sit down, Flo,’ Bart shouted from behind the bar. ‘You’re a whore not a nurse.’

  Flo pouted. ‘That’s where you’re wrong, Bart. As of now, I quit.’

  He laughed uproariously. ‘You can’t quit. I own your skinny ass.’

  ‘I’m buying it back and I’m getting out of this nothing town.’

  She reached inside her bodice and pulled out a wodge of paper money. Triumphantly, she held it up so that everyone could see. When every eye in the place was on
her, she tore off several notes and tossed them across the room.

  The place erupted into a frenzy as men who had been standing at the bar enjoying the show, jostled with each other to collect the money that floated around the room.

  ‘Rick and me are getting out of this place.’ Flo sneered in Maggie’s face. ‘I’ll make him forget about you, bitch.’

  Maggie’s heartbeat surged sending a rush of anger pounding against her temples. Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard the voice of reason telling her it was a bad idea with one useless arm. She refused to listen, relishing the prospect of a fight. If the woman wanted a tussle, she was welcome to have it with no quarter given.

  A single gunshot brought stillness to the mayhem. Bart placed a smoking gun on the bar and stamped into the centre of the room. He grabbed Flo by the hair, yanking her with such force she lost her footing and fell to her knees with a crack.

  ‘Where did you get that money from?’ he shouted.

  She struggled to free herself but Bart wrapped his fist in the mass of red curls, tightening his grip until she bent under his will, screeching.

  ‘Where?’ he demanded.

  ‘I found it.’

  ‘Found it my ass. Where did you get it you thieving little whore.’

  ‘I took it from his saddlebags.’

  ‘Whose saddlebags? Rick’s?’

  Maggie felt her gut clench. Somehow, she knew what was coming.

  ‘That big feller’s. The one that did for Sue-Anne. He won’t notice it’s missing. They were stuffed with money.’

  ‘Jesus, Flo.’ Bart shoved his hand inside her bodice and rummaged around, bringing out fistful after fistful of cash and dropping it on the table.

  ‘Is that it?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah, but it’s mine. Don’t you—’

  He slapped her across the face, freeing his hand from her hair and flinging her away.

  ‘There’s got to be at least three hundred dollars there.’ He kicked her where she lay cowering on the floor. ‘Did you really think they wouldn’t miss it?’ His boot struck her in the stomach and she doubled up, crying for mercy. ‘Or did you just think you and your golden haired lover would be gone when they came back for it?’

  He raised his hand to strike her, but Maggie stepped between them.

  ‘That’s enough, mister. She sees the error of her ways now. There’s no point making more work for Doc.’

  He held his arm high as his gaze dropped to the knife in her hand, the tip pushing against his belly.

  ‘I’m not one of your girls, and yours won’t be the first man’s blood on this blade, so don’t do what you’re thinking of doing,’ she warned barely above a whisper.

  ‘Bart!’ Doc shouted from the balcony overlooking the barroom. ‘I need to speak to you—now.’

  Bart eased back. ‘I don’t know who you are, lady, but you’re crazy, do you know that?’ He shoved her arm aside. ‘Get out and don’t come back. No women ’cept whores and paying guests allowed in my saloon.’

  Doc stood at the top of the stairs staring at Maggie. His expression, always hawkish, gave nothing away.

  ‘Maggie, go to Rick, before you do something you’ll regret.’

  His tone brooked no argument, acting like a wakeup call and snapping her out of the inexplicable rage that had incensed her. She noticed the faces of the men around her who stared with a mix of shock and curiosity. They didn’t frighten her. It was her own reflection in the mirror behind the bar that brought her up short. Lean and tanned, her sun-bleached hair rough cut to shoulder length, her eyes like chips of flint above a mouth that relaxed naturally into a thin unforgiving line, she hardly recognized herself as she fled.

  Twelve

  The men from the saloon had dumped Rick on Doc’s bed. By the yellow light of a flickering lamp, he looked sweaty and pale. Despite Doc’s steady hand, Rick grimaced with each stitch. Maggie squeezed his fingers and felt pressure in return. It didn’t help to ease her conscience.

  ‘You’re quiet, Doc,’ she said to distract herself.

  He shrugged.

  ‘The girl was in a bad way. You did what you could to save her.’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘Or is something else on your mind?’

  His scowl deepened.

  ‘Are you worried about Braddock and Harris coming back or are you wondering if I’ll cut your throat while you’re sleeping?’

  She meant it to sound light hearted, to ease the tension, but it didn’t. Doc tied off the end of the thread and trimmed it with a scalpel, placing the sharp blade back in its protective case and returning it to his bag. For a minute, he stared at the dozen stitches holding Rick’s side together.

  ‘Bit of both, I guess,’ he said at last.

  It wasn’t the answer she wanted but at least now she had a chance to explain. She pulled the knife from its sheath tucked inside her right boot and held it out to him.

  ‘Take it.’

  ‘I don’t want it.’

  ‘You want something from me. You might as well tell me what it is so we can get past this … awkwardness.’

  ‘Awkwardness? That’s an interesting way of putting it.’ He threw up his hands. ‘All right. I want to know who I’m dealing with.’

  An image of the woman in the mirror fleeted through her mind. ‘The truth is, I don’t know who I am anymore.’

  ‘Well, that’s just great. You ride in here, involving me in your troubles and then you can’t even answer a straight question.’ Doc started pacing. Short, angry steps. ‘Great! Just great.’

  Rick opened his eyes and struggled to sit. ‘Lay off her, Doc.’

  The medic shot him a look of surprise then shook his head.

  ‘For the record, we were riding through,’ Maggie said. ‘You were the one who took my gun and threatened to shoot Rick.’

  Doc waved his hand dismissively.

  Maggie felt her irritation coming back to the boil. She didn’t want to think about the past, much less talk about it, but she didn’t want to be wrongly judged either.

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘You want to know who I am. I’ll tell you what I know but it might not help.

  ‘First of all, I don’t know what I’m capable of. For years, Frank told me what to do and what to think. It was only in the last year or so, when he knew he was dying, that he started to … to prepare me.’

  Doc stopped pacing. ‘Prepare you for what?’

  ‘Freedom. I wasn’t honest when you asked about Frank and me. I let you believe what you wanted because it was easy. The truth is, I was Frank’s captive not his wife.’

  He didn’t say anything and she was glad about that. Now that it was out in the open she wanted to tell him everything. Or maybe she wanted to get it clear in her own mind.

  ‘I was sixteen when Frank and his gang rode into Flamstead to rob the bank, my father’s bank. They’d heard there was a big payroll in the safe but it was late arriving and there was just a bit of cash in the drawers, a few hundred dollars. Frank was mad as hell and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. They took me with them and asked for a ransom of five thousand dollars or they’d kill me.

  ‘Frank never got the money. In the end he just took his payment in other ways.’

  Doc’s expression gave nothing away. Rick’s eyes were closed, but she knew he was listening. His expression was too tight to be that of a man seeking refuge in sleep. It didn’t matter. He had a right to know too.

  ‘Frank was a hard man but he treated me well enough once I learned the rules. The only thing he didn’t tell me was what to do when he was gone.’

  The room was silent for a long time. She didn’t feel a need to fill the void. She had said her piece. The next move was Docs.

  ‘It sounds like you’ve got a clean slate,’ he opined. ‘You can do whatever you want.’

  Rick stirred and opened his eyes. ‘Doc’s right. You should ride away, Maggie, and never look back.’

  She chortled. ‘And leave you alon
e? You’d never survive without me.’

  In truth, she didn’t know if she could survive on her own. Being around people was harder than she had imagined. Her violent behavior in the saloon had surprised her. It had seemed out of character, but what if it wasn’t? What if killing Walt McLean had unleashed a darkness in her?

  ‘Why don’t you go home, back to your family?’ Doc suggested.

  ‘Home? To someone who wouldn’t pay five thousand dollars to get me back?’

  It didn’t hurt anymore. It just made her feel angry.

  ‘Maybe he didn’t have it,’ Doc argued.

  ‘Don’t make excuses for a man you never met. He owned most of Flamstead. He could have paid five times that amount without leaving his office to do it.’

  ‘All I’m saying is that maybe everything Frank said wasn’t true. If no one was looking for you, how come he never let you leave that cabin in the hills? How come he never mentioned you to me? To anyone?’

  They were questions she had asked every day in the beginning. Like everything else, their importance had dwindled with time. She had stopped asking and stopped believing. It was as though life before Frank had never existed.

  ‘People knew I was there,’ she said, springing to his defense. ‘His men. I cooked for them and did their laundry. They knew I was there.’

  Rick winced as he shifted his position. ‘We were his men, Maggie,’ he said. ‘He knew he had our silence. No man in his right mind would have crossed Mad Dog Frank O’Bannen.’

  There was a ring of truth to that. Frank ruled because he instilled fear in other men. She had seen him shoot a man in the face because that man argued about his split of a job they had done in Texas.

  ‘What are you saying? That I should go home and pick up my life where it left off?’

  ‘Probably not,’ Doc conceded. ‘You’ve been gone a long time but it might help you make peace with whatever it is that’s eating at you.’

  ‘Eating at me?’

  ‘There’s an anger in you, Maggie. I felt it when you shoved that gun in my face that first night and I saw it again in the saloon today,’ Doc said. ‘I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. It gave you the strength to kill two men in self-defense but you need to learn to control it or your freedom will be short lived.’