Lawdog: The Life and Times of Hayden Tilden

by J. Lee Butts

  “Do somethin’, Hayden. Do somethin’.” He made little ushering motions at the girl and bobbed his head in her direction.

  I put my hand on her shoulder, leaned down, and whispered in her ear. “They’re all dead, Miss Talbot. Billy and I killed them all. They’ll never hurt you or anyone else again.”

  She leaned heavily against me and clutched at my arm till she hung from my shoulders. I sat on the ground with the sobbing girl attached to me until she wept herself to sleep. Billy covered her with a blanket. Later that night, as he snored away, I sat with my back to the fire and bit my fingers as tears streamed down my own cheeks.

  The girl’s experience sounded so like that of my mother and sister that when the full impact of what confronted me finally came, I found it almost too much to bear. In an effort to keep from stepping over the boundaries of my own sanity, I found comfort in the knowledge that I might not have been able to save Rachael or my mother, but at least I had saved Missy Talbot.

  When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed of my home in Kentucky. My family gathered for supper. The table had been moved outside beneath a tree in the front yard, because of the summer heat. I sat across from my mother, who smiled at me and said, “I see you’ve made a new friend. You must take care of her. I want you to promise me that you’ll always look after Missy. Will you promise me that, Hayden?”

  “Yes, Mother, I promise.”

  “I’m so pleased, son.” She reached across the table and touched my fingers. I awoke, and found Missy Talbot sitting beside me, clutching my hand.

  “Am I right here? You’ve just said that you became Judge Parker’s secret bounty hunter. His own personal assassin?”

  Over our heads, the ceiling fan lazily pushed air around, but the rising heat of the day required something more forceful to really help cool us down. I pulled my private set of Brown’s Funeral Home fans from the stock I kept in the magazine rack beside my chair and pitched one into the boy’s lap.

  “Use that, Junior. Have to get it going pretty good as the day goes on. Big magnolia tree there behind you will get mighty fragrant pretty soon. Sometimes the odor is almost overpowering.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, Mr. Tilden. When you and Billy shot Duer, Pratt, et al., hadn’t you become Judge Parker’s bounty killer?”

  Let that one hang there over the table for a minute before I answered. “Yes. But don’t act all surprised and stunned on me here, Junior. Told you from the start that I performed a special job for Judge Parker. Duer and Pratt just happened to be the first of a long list of snakes I took pleasure in stomping for him.”

  “You took pleasure in killing people?” He said that like he wanted to hock up a gob of something and spit it out on the table.

  “Duer and his bunch weren’t people. They were the closest thing to animals you can be and still wear boots and walk upright. Between the five of those men, Billy Bird and I estimated they’d slaughtered something in the neighborhood of fifty people. Some of those folks died in ways too awful to describe. But just for the record, I’ll tell you about a couple of their better efforts.” Took a big sip from my glass before going on.

  “Not long after those two joined forces in the Territories, they broke into the ranch house of a man named Duckworth out in the Creek Nation. They nearly beat him and his wife senseless, but stopped so he could watch the whole gang take turns going at his wife for two days running. Then they shot her and cut off her head while he watched. Just for giggles, they set him on fire and laughed while he burned. We know all this because one of Pratt’s bunch, a murdering slug named Jimbo Kitchens, got caught not long after that little party and confessed to the whole thing like he was proud of it. I read his sworn statement in the package the Judge gave me on the gang. Kitchens should’ve hung, but tried to escape and got accidentally shot thirteen times in the process. That’s just one of the numberless reasons I would have helped Billy kill them whether he actually wanted me to or not.”

  Junior swallowed hard. “Jesus,” he mumbled under his breath.

  “Don’t get all soft and mushy brained on me here, boy. The worst people living in North America found their way to the Nations. No other place like it ever existed in the history of this country. Personally rubbed out a bunch of them evil skunks and won’t be made to feel guilty about it by the snot-nosed likes of you. Duer, Pratt, and that bunch should’ve been drawn and quartered, set on fire, hung, and shot—best I could do was shoot a few of them a time or two. They were just as dead. Thank God.”

  His eyes blinked so fast, thought he’d take off and fly around the porch. “Okay. Look, I don’t want to get into a bare-knuckled debate with you about capital punishment.”

  He got this puzzled look on his face when I started laughing at him. “Good thing, Junior. Might be eighty-eight years old, but I’d still give you a pretty good fight and just might put a black-’n’-blue butt-kicking on you. If it came to pistols and knives you wouldn’t stand any more chance than a grasshopper in a tornado.” Slapped my knee and laughed out loud.

  “You don’t have a gun on you now . . . do you?”

  “Oh, absolutely not, son. Well . . . maybe just a little one.”

  He shook his head and said, “Lord almighty, old man, you are full of surprises, aren’t you? Do the nurses know about that?

  “Well, no, Junior. Never had any need to shoot a nurse—at least not yet. However, Leona Wildbank has tempted me every once in a while.”

  7

  “YOU CAN’T SAY NO”

  I PUT MISSY Talbot in a room near mine at the Hotel Pines. For the first few days after our return from the Nations, didn’t see the raven-haired girl at all. I fell into the routine of court appearances and listening to the testimony and horror stories of the other marshals. Checked on her every day, but she refused to open the door when I knocked and would often mumble excuses through the tiny crack she allowed when we spoke.

  Then one afternoon about three or four weeks after our arrival in town, I pushed open the frosted glass door of the hotel and almost ran over her in the vestibule. Her black hair swung freely down her back and her face glowed in a way I never expected possible. She wore a new cream-colored dress that had a stand-up lace collar whose frilly top tickled her chin and a hat that matched her dress with white gauze that came down over her eyes. She looked every inch the well-bred, sophisticated lady.

  “I just couldn’t bear to have you see me until I was presentable,” she whispered as she pressed herself against me at the stair landing. The deep voice and southern-fried accent dripped of swampy bayous, cotton fields, and white-columned homes. For some reason I hadn’t noticed that sound during our return from the Nations.

  The cuts and scratches on her face had all but vanished. Any fine lines left were disguised with the skilled use of a pearl-handled fan. Scrubbed and cleaned, she smelled wonderful. I recognized her perfume as that used exclusively by some of Elizabeth’s more prominent and wealthy female friends.

  My lack of worldly experience with women did not change when my quickly made relationship with Elizabeth manifested itself. She kept me on the straight and narrow and also eliminated any reason for visits to the saloons and houses where women who practiced the same trade as Missy worked. That didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of them and where they could be found. Every man who lived on the edge of the wildness knew where to find whores.

  “I had to look my best for you.” She reached for my hand and took it in hers. “I’d like to take you to dinner, Marshal Tilden. Think that’s the least I can do for the man responsible for my deliverance from that vile beast Schmoker Pratt.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Missy.”

  She smiled as I glanced nervously around the hotel lobby. My face flushed and my ears burned from the rush of blood that colored them.

  “Why, Mr. Tilden, I do believe you’re blushin’. You’ve never been taken to dinner before by an appreciative female, have you? Well, there’s always a first time, and tonight’s th
e night.” She firmly grasped my elbow and guided me through the door and onto the boardwalk.

  Figured the best method to deal with the situation was the unvarnished truth. “Missy, I’ve been seeing someone ever since my arrival in town. I don’t think it would be proper for me to mislead you about such things.” She squeezed the muscle of my arm as she escorted me down the boardwalk.

  “Ah, yes, Miss Elizabeth Reed, I believe. The lovely blond whose father owns the dry goods store across the street.” She waved in the direction of Reed’s Mercantile as though it was a nuisance insect. “You needn’t worry, Hayden. I’m not out to steal you away from your lady. I know my place. But that shouldn’t keep us from being friends. You saved my life. I owe you more than I can ever repay. A meal won’t hurt anything. Besides, Miss Reed will understand. I know you’ll tell her, and if you don’t, someone else will. It’s just an innocent dinner between a famous marshal and the woman whose life he saved.” Her voice dripped of magnolia trees and mint juleps. She squeezed my arm again, fluttered her eyelashes, and smiled.

  Turned out to be a marvelous dinner. She’d already made the arrangements at one of Fort Smith’s finest restaurants. Place named Le Coeur Rouge. Frenchy feller named Paul LeMat owned it. On the way to New Orleans, he fell off a riverboat after someone hit him in the head and robbed him. Washed up in Arkansas. Despite the primitive condition of the place, he decided to stay. My sweet Lord, but that man could cook.

  His restaurant had eight tables covered with white linen. Each decorated with a glass vase that held a single red rose. Always wondered where he got those roses. He served good wine, fine food, and exceptional cigars. Altogether, Le Coeur Rouge smelled better than any eating joint I’ve been in since. There’s just something about French pastry that stays with you once you’ve got a whiff of the real stuff.

  Found the beautiful Missy Talbot charming, gifted with a quick wit, and when she laughed everyone around her smiled. Men turned bright red if she paid them any attention. About halfway through the meal, I realized it wouldn’t take much to be attracted to her in a way I didn’t want . . . and had given no thought to until that moment.

  On the way back from the Nations, she’d slept next to me on the ground. Allowed it because I felt sorry for the shattered girl. Now, there seemed to be nothing left of the broken creature who had clung to me like she was drowning in the horrors of Kingfisher Creek. What sat across the table that night was an astonishingly confident woman who focused all her attention on no one else in the room but me. Any man who can say he wouldn’t be flattered by such attention is a liar, and I’ll tell him that to his face.

  Over the after-dinner wine, she said, “I arrived in Dallas, Texas, barefoot and starving. My father left me in a wagon and went out to hunt for food. He never came back. To this day, I still don’t know what happened to him. After Mother’s death, friends had encouraged our move from New Orleans to Texas. They called it ‘the Promised Land.’” Every time she spoke I got this image of sagging bayou trees draped with Spanish moss.

  She twirled her wineglass around between her fingers and called for the waiter to refill it. “I’d just passed my fourteenth birthday at the time and, within a week, was taken under the wing of a kindly man who promised me everything I could ever want—oldest story in the book. Herby Fallon had worked his trade long enough to know he had something special in me. I got treated accordingly.”

  Her perfume, mixed with the wine and another fragrance I couldn’t identify, excited me in the most unexpected way. I sat, stared into her eyes, and wondered what she had in mind for dessert.

  “Herby always saw to it that his girls were educated, clean, and well-dressed. He took us to different towns around the country at various times of the year. We visited Kansas City, Memphis, or New Orleans and, occasionally, one of the large cow towns in Kansas. No matter where we went, Herby always tried to get us back to Dallas before hard cold and winter set in. He loved Dallas winters. That obsession with warm weather brought him to the banks of the Canadian—and his death—at a time of the year when we would normally have been in Texas for a month.”

  I wondered, but didn’t question, how she’d come by enough money to afford this obviously expensive evening. The meal, wine, and after-dinner drinks had cost a great deal. But there was never any mention of a check.

  When the last ashes from my cigar were crushed out, she said, “I think it’s time to go now.”

  The waiter bowed as he pulled her chair back. “It is always a great pleasure to serve you, Miss Talbot.” He clicked his heels together, bowed again, then kissed the back of her hand.

  “I have been to Fort Smith once or twice.” She took my arm again and smiled as we left our table. Every man in that room watched as she swayed her way out onto the boardwalk.

  I stood aside when she opened the door to her room. “Please come in, Hayden. I have something special in mind to finish off our evening.”

  I hesitated. Elizabeth might understand dinner. Not this. But the temptation proved too much for me. She was beautiful, and I was young and weak. Stood there for so long, she offered the invitation again.

  “I promise not to bite.” She took my hand and pulled me inside. “At least . . . not too hard.”

  Almost every place a garment could hang in that room was decorated with something lovely and feminine. She led me to a chair beside the only table and poured me a glass of wine from a bottle that waited in a silver bucket. Her glass touched mine, and she slid into my lap as she sipped the deep red liquid.

  “What’s about to happen is as much for me . . . as it is for you. I need you tonight, Hayden. You can’t say no.” She leaned forward and kissed me. When our lips parted she said, “We can continue the story of my life some other time.”

  “But, Missy, I—I . . .”

  “Don’t speak,” she whispered. Then, she kissed me inside out. My toes almost chewed a hole in the soles of my boots.

  I made something a bit more than a half-hearted effort at resistance, but the wonder of that evening and the spell cast by Missy Talbot’s beauty made it impossible to push her away. We clung to each other, immersed in the raw need of the moment. I fell into her bed and watched, unbelieving, as my clothing flew toward the ceiling then dropped to the floor in a heap.

  “Missy, I knew girls back in Kentucky, but, in spite of all the things that have occurred recently, we’re about to enter an area where I have no experience.” Didn’t know for sure if it was the thing to say or not. And in the end it didn’t really matter. Once she got me going in the right direction, my excitement—and her skill—led me into an encounter I never expected and gypsy palm readers couldn’t have foretold.

  She pulled my head down on her breast and whispered, “I know you wanted this to happen on your wedding night in the arms of the lovely Miss Reed. But here it is, Hayden. Close your eyes and enjoy it.”

  I jumped headfirst into a fiery web of passion spun by that black-haired gal. She made love like sunrise would be the end of us.

  About ten minutes into the heat and fire of her, she hissed, “No other man will ever see me like this.” When we finished, she slept curled around me as though her mission in life was to protect me from the future.

  The next morning, we took breakfast in her room. While we ate, she detected the confusion of my mind. “I don’t love you the way your Miss Reed does, Hayden, but I do love you. Make no mistake of it. You and I are forever linked in a way others will never be able to understand. For the rest of your life, I will always be somewhere nearby, and I will be there for whatever you might need.”

  “Missy, I don’t know what to say.”

  “You needn’t say anything.” She paused, and went into deep thought for a moment before continuing. “As you’ve probably detected, I have no concerns when it comes to money. I found out early on where Herby kept his, and how to get it if anything ever happened to him. What he had is now mine. I got it all, and I don’t think anyone even knows yet that he’s dead.”


  “Are you trying to tell me something here, Missy?”

  She stared at me for a moment. “I plan to settle in Dallas. There’s a hotel down on Houston Street I’ve always admired. I think I’ll buy it. I’ve always liked room service, and there’s no better way to get it that I can think of than to be the owner of a good hotel.”

  “What about your life before we met?”

  A frown brought hard creases to the edges of her lips. “I don’t plan to ever go back to the life I led before we met, but I can’t yet deny the past.” She stood, went to the window, and peeked at the street below. Light poured through her transparent gown. “I’m leaving for Texas in the morning. You can reach me at . . . let me see . . . yes, the Empress. I’ll call it the Empress Hotel. I’ll be back this way as soon as I can, but for now I have business that needs my attention.”

  Blood thundered through my eardrums. I couldn’t believe it had all happened to begin with, and now it was over. I felt like a man trying to ride two horses at the same time that gets thrown and kicked to pieces.

  “I know this is all very sudden, but it can’t wait. I have to go now. You could come with me, but I would never ask such a thing of you because I know you wouldn’t do it.” She took my hand and kissed the palm. No one had ever kissed me in such an intimate manner. It brought me to tears. “At least we have one more night,” she whispered in my ear. “The stage doesn’t leave till tomorrow.”

  The next morning, I stood in the street and watched her coach dissolve into a cloud of gritty Arkansas dust. As suddenly as she’d appeared in my life, she vanished. Nothing left but the faint smell of her perfume on the front of my shirt.

  Next time I saw Elizabeth, she misinterpreted the change she detected in me. “I understand,” she said. “It’s just the Nations. Although you came here with a readymade reputation, Hayden Tilden, nothing could prepare a man for the realities of that devilish place.” My guilty feelings for what had happened kept me from making any effort to change her mistaken belief.