by Ralph Hayes
‘Some folks got clabber for brains,’ Murdoch spat out.
The two cowboys were surprised at the quick turn of events. The noise in the saloon had increased again and the piano player was banging out ‘Dixie’ to the delight of most patrons.
‘Well,’ the second cowboy said brightly. ‘Why don’t I deal out another hand?’
Murdoch gathered in the cash in front of him and looked over at Sumner. ‘I got a better idea. Why don’t you grab your winnings, Sumner, and let me buy you one up at the bar?’
Sumner shrugged, and raked in his money. ‘Sure. That hotel room will wait a little.’
‘Find us some more players!’ the first cowpoke called after them as they left.
Up at the long bar, Murdoch found a place where they would be more private and Sumner joined him there. Murdoch ordered them two Planter’s Rye whiskeys without asking Sumner. In a moment the glasses were delivered, and Murdoch raised his glass to Sumner. He was a brawny man with pock marks on his lower face.
‘Here’s to the death of a snake!’
Sumner drank with him and they both leaned against the bar. ‘Sorry I kind of lost my temper back there. I been cheated by a couple of drifters lately. No offense.’
‘None taken,’ Sumner said. ‘You play a sweet game of poker.’
Murdoch grinned. ‘I been at it a while.’ He looked Sumner over. ‘You’re pretty young to have all that behind you.’
Sumner sighed. ‘It all caught me young.’
‘Now that you’re out, you got plans for your future?’
Sumner didn’t respond for a moment. ‘Not really. There’s a stage line where I’m headed. I might see if they want a driver. Or ride out to one of the nearby ranches.’
Murdoch looked over at him. ‘You’d make a good ranch hand. If you’re heading south, you’ll ride right past a ranch of an old friend of mine. Name of Clay Allison.’
Sumner frowned at him. ‘Clay Allison? You mean the gunfighter?’
Murdoch grinned. ‘He learned to shoot in the Confederate Army. Sure, there’s stories about him. Hot-tempered shootings in saloon fights. They say him and a farmer neighbour argued over a fence line. On Clay’s suggestion, they dug a grave right there and both got into it, and shot it out in that hole in the ground. Only Clay climbed back out of that hole.’
Sumner shook his head, smiling.
‘Some of them yarns might be bull-pucky. But one thing is true. Clay Allison is the fastest damn gun in this whole state.’
‘I’m impressed,’ Sumner said, taking a drink of the Planter’s.
‘Of course, now that he’s got his ranch, he’s settled right down. Although he does raise a little hell now and again.’ He grinned pensively. ‘Anyway, I just heard he’s looking for a couple of new hires for handyman work. I think you might fill the bill and you can say I recommended you.’
Sumner caught his gaze and fixed on it. When that gun was aimed at his chest at the table, he would never have guessed that this rough-looking gambler would be offering to help him with his future.
‘I’m mighty obliged,’ Sumner told him. ‘I might just take you up on that.’
‘You tell him Murdoch sent you,’ the gambler said, swigging the rye. ‘I think you’ll like old Clay.’
Sumner’s thoughts flashed momentarily to the Madison farm, and Corey, and the grim task that lay ahead of him before he could consider his future. ‘We’ll see how it works out,’ he said noncommittally.
The night at the hotel was very necessary to restore Sumner. By dawn the next day, he was on his way south to Blaneyville and the Madison farm. The land was a little more hospitable here in Texas with more cottonwoods and plane trees dotting the landscape. There were also more ranches and he rode through small herds of cattle several times on his way south. As he came nearer to the Madison farm, the weight in his chest grew heavier with each mile he covered.
Around mid-morning, the farm house came into view.
Sumner reined in and studied it for a moment. It looked so peaceful. So idyllic in its tranquillity. And now he was going to destroy all that in a moment. He dreaded this as much as he had dreaded the gallows at Fort Sill.
Sumner rode on up to the house, and saw a horse tethered to a short hitching cost outside. He dismounted heavily and left the roan at the post. He climbed three steps up to the small porch and called inside past an open doorway.
‘Hallo, inside!’
In a moment Jane Madison appeared at the door, her lovely face looking puzzled. Then she broke into a big smile that cut Sumner`s insides.
‘Wesley Sumner!’ She reached up and hugged him. ‘I thought it was about time for you two to be back!’ She looked past him. ‘Where’s Corey?’ Eager expectation on her face.
‘He’s not with me, Jane,’ he said quietly.
‘What? Where is he then?’ she asked, not understanding.
‘Maybe we’d better go inside,’ he suggested.
Now she frowned, and gave another look behind him. ‘Oh. All right.’
They went in together, and there was an elderly man standing in the parlour, eyeing Sumner curiously.
‘This is Wesley Sumner, Gramps,’ Jane announced him. ‘Wesley, this is my grandfather. He’s been staying with me until Corey’s return.’
The weight in Sumner’s chest lightened almost imperceptibly. ‘Glad to meet you, sir,’ Sumner told him.
Her grandfather, Bias Driscoll, stuck his hand out and Sumner took it. ‘Glad to meet you, boy. I hear you’re Corey’s friend.’
Sumner took a deep breath in. ‘Maybe we all better sit down for a moment.’
Now a small concern appeared on Jane’s pretty face. They all sat at a sofa and big chair, Sumner facing them. He clasped his hands before him.
‘What is it, Wesley?’ Jane asked him wanly. She was the only one since his aunt to use his first name.
Sumner realized there was no easy way for them. ‘Corey won’t be returning home, Jane. Your brother is dead.’
Jane’s pretty face drained of color.
‘Good God!’ Driscoll breathed.
Sumner told them the whole story. Slowly, painfully, Jane listened to the entire narrative in silence. Then the three of them just sat there.
Jane finally rose from the sofa, turned and took three steps across the parlour, and collapsed to the floor.
Sumner and Driscoll were over her in a moment, Driscoll patting her cheek lightly. ‘Jane! Janie! Oh, Jesus!’
‘She’ll be all right, Mr Driscoll,’ Sumner assured him. ‘It’s just temporary shock. Let’s get her to bed.’
Sumner carried Jane into a bedroom on the main floor of the big house, and she came around a little. Driscoll brought her a glass of water, which she refused. ‘Just let me rest,’ she whispered.
Jane remained in bed for the next twenty-four hours, taking just a few swallows of broth in the meantime. Sumner helped Driscoll with chores, chopping kindling wood, repairing a window shutter. Washing dishes. On the second day, Jane was back up, making them a late breakfast and then sitting with them quietly at the kitchen table.
‘You look better,’ Sumner offered as they sat drinking black coffee.
‘I feel like I was run over by a conestoga,’ Jane admitted. She stared past them. ‘I can’t get it straight in my head. That I’ll never see him again. Why didn’t I take a longer look at him when he rode off?’
‘They was real close,’ Driscoll confided to Sumner. ‘When they was little, they did everything together. They was joined at the hip.’
‘I never had that closeness with anybody,’ Sumner said.
‘It makes it harder when it’s taken from you,’ Jane murmured, her eyes tearing up.
‘Time will help,’ Sumner said.
‘I can’t run this farm alone,’ Jane said, sipping at her coffee. The aroma of it filled the room, and was a small warm counterpoint to the heaviness that hung over them.
‘I already decided,’ Driscoll told her. ‘I’m going to move
my things in here for a while. Maybe permanent. I ain’t working my little patch of ground anyhow. I might as well be over here where I can do some good.’
‘You quit on your place because you didn’t want to do it any more,’ Jane reminded him.
‘I feel different about it now. This gives me a purpose. A man needs a purpose, you know. Anyway, that Seger boy that hangs around you all the time. I bet he’d be happy as a pig in mud to help out here.’
‘Seger?’ Sumner said.
‘A neighbour not far off,’ Jane said. She gave a slow look at Sumner. ‘One of Corey’s friends.’
‘He’s sweet on Janie,’ Driscoll put in.
‘While you and Corey was gone,’ Jane said, holding Sumner’s gaze, ‘the crazy boy asked me to marry him.’ After assessing Sumner’s reaction, she turned away quickly.
Sumner was surprised. He had to admit that he had thought a lot of lovely Jane while he was away. ‘What did you tell him?’
‘Oh, that’s the third time he tried. I just keep saying I’m not ready.’
‘For marriage?’
‘For marriage to him.’ She looked back at him with those big blue eyes, and he saw something there through the pain for Corey.
He looked quickly away. ‘I see.’
Driscoll looked from her to him, and smiled. ‘I think I’ll just go throw down some chicken feed,’ he said.
No more was said between them, though. In the next few days, Sumner stayed on to make sure Jane was all right. Driscoll gave him some work clothes that fit pretty well, and by the third day Sumner was ready to ride. The young man Hank Seger stopped by that morning and he was a big, strapping man who seemed a good-natured fellow who could make a woman a decent husband. He kept giving Sumner suspicious looks throughout his brief visit. When Sumner and Jane were alone at the kitchen table again, he caught her gaze and smiled.
‘You could do worse,’ he said.
‘Hank?’
‘I kind of liked him.’
Jane narrowed her eyes on him. ‘So you think I should marry him?’ A little hostilely.
Sumner frowned. ‘I didn’t say that. Look, Jane.’
‘I thought you knew when you left here. That there was something between us. That you felt it, too. Was I wrong?’
Sumner sighed. She was right. He really liked this girl. From the first time she had smiled at him. ‘I started to tell you. I have plans that stretch out quite a spell. And it involves those men that killed Corey.’
‘What do you mean?’
He met her troubled look. ‘I better not say much more. I’m heading out today for the Allison ranch.’
‘For permanent work?’
‘Let’s just say it’s a first step in a plan.’
Her eyes were moist again. ‘Today? You don’t have to do anything, you know. If I can handle this, you ought to be able to.’
‘You weren’t there,’ he said evenly.
She turned away from him. ‘Then you don’t care about me.’
‘That isn’t true. I’ll be back. I promise that.’
She rose angrily. ‘All right! Go, damn it! If I’ve lost both of you, I’ll have to live with it!’
Sumner stood up. ‘Jane. I do have feelings for you. And I will come back.’
‘I’ll just fetch your riding jacket,’ she said coolly.
The Clay Allison ranch was an overnight ride, not far from Las Animas. When Sumner arrived in the afternoon of the following day, he was dusty, hungry and tired. He rode through a large herd of cattle on his way in, all with the Allison brand, and finally he found himself in front of a rambling ranch house. He hitched his roan there and noted that the animal was lame. When he climbed the steps of a wide porch, a lanky man was just emerging from inside. He looked Sumner over carefully.
‘Where did you come from, boy?’ In an arrogant tone.
Sumner ignored his manner, wiping a hand across his forehead. ‘I’m here to see Mr Allison. A fellow named Murdoch sent me.’
The other man frowned. He was Tom Bedford and he was Allison’s ranch foreman. He had a lean hard look, and wore a sidearm low on his hip. ‘You know Murdoch?’
Sumner nodded. ‘He said he thought Mr Allison might be hiring.’
Bedford looked him over with disdain. ‘You don’t look like no cowpoke.’
Sumner sighed. ‘I’m not. Yet. Is he here today?’
Bedford grunted. ‘Sure. He’s here. Come on inside.’
They entered and walked down a carpeted hallway to a closed door, and Bedford knocked lightly on it. A deep voice called out to enter. Bedford led Sumner into the big room, which was dominated by a wide fireplace on the opposite wall, with a fire crackling there. A large, well-dressed man with silver in his sideburns and wide brawny shoulders sat at a small desk to their left. He looked up impatiently.
‘What is it, Bedford?’ He sat back and looked Sumner over.
‘This here boy says Murdoch sent him to look for work here.’ A sly grin.
Allison’s face showed curiosity. He rose from the desk and came around it. ‘Murdoch, huh? How’s that old chicken thief looking these days?’
‘He looked like he can handle himself,’ Sumner told him.
Allison grinned, and nodded. ‘That will be all, Bedford. Go see to that lame heifer out back. I want it back out in pasture.’
‘He ain’t got no experience,’ Bedford said, jerking his head toward Sumner.
Allison frowned slightly. ‘The heifer, Bedford.’
Bedford looked a bit frustrated. ‘Yes, sir.’ He gave Sumner a sour look, and turned and left.
Allison came over to Sumner and looked him over openly. He looked very physical for his age. He wore two bone-handled Colts low on his hips, a red shirt, and a flowing blue cravat at his neck. He was known all over Texas and Arizona for his gunplay, and Sumner wondered how many men those guns had sent to hell.
‘How do you know Murdoch, son?’ he asked Sumner.
‘Only through a card game,’ Sumner said.
‘Don’t you ever carry a gun?’
‘I haven’t had a chance to arm myself,’ Sumner said. ‘Since I got out.’
‘Out of what?’ Allison inquired.
Sumner hesitated. ‘Out of State Prison.’
Allison’s face went sober and he looked Sumner over more carefully.
‘I shot three men down that murdered my aunt. The name is Sumner. Wesley Sumner.’
Allison nodded. ‘I remember. Three goddamn piles of cow flop. You rid the world of a wagonload of trash there. I wish I’d done it myself. I hope they’re all in hell with their backs broke.’ He stuck his thick hand out. ‘Pleasured to meet up with you, Sumner.’
Sumner shook his hand, and felt the iron in it. ‘I’m honored, sir.’
‘Call me Clay,’ Allison told him. ‘I think we might be kindred spirits.’
Sumner grinned. ‘All right.’
‘As a matter of fact, I have been thinking of taking on a new hand or two. I don’t care that you got no experience. I can teach you all I know in about five minutes.’ A broad grin. ‘And don’t pay no attention to Bedford. That head is empty as last year’s crow’s nest.’
Sumner smiled. ‘We’ll get along. And I appreciate the hire, Mr – I mean, Clay.’ He paused. ‘But I like you, so I have to level with you. This would be temporary employment for me. I’ll enjoy ranch work, I think. But there was something else I was hoping to learn.’
Allison frowned at him. ‘Something else?’
Sumner held his look with a steady one. ‘I want you to teach me about guns, Clay.’
Allison just stood there for a long moment, then he squinted. ‘Why hell, boy. You took down three of the worst misfits this state has ever seen.’
‘I was a crazy kid with a debt to collect,’ Sumner said. ‘I shot them down in cold blood. I murdered them.’
Allison nodded thoughtfully.
‘And the law made me pay for it,’ Sumner added. ‘I want to be able to face a fast gun do
wn and kill him. Legally.’
Allison eyed him sidewise. ‘Have anybody particular in mind?’
Sumner looked away. ‘Two men. Over in the Territory. They killed a friend of mine. They’re US Deputy Marshals.’
Allison’s beefy face showed surprise for a moment. Then a wide smile came across it. ‘I knew I was going to like you.’
‘I figure that even after you’ve shown me all you can, it will take me a while until I know what I’m doing. But sooner or later, I’m going back.’
Allison clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Well, that might be a long time from now. In the meantime, let’s give you some ranching know-how. I won’t put you out on the range yet. I’ll start you on repairing fences. Extending the corral. Maybe some personal work for me.’
‘I’m ready to start today,’ Sumner told him.
‘Sunbreak tomorrow will be fine. Today I’ll get you bedded down out in the bunkhouse. And introduce you to the boys.’
Sumner was accepted readily by the other ranch-hands and cowboys, despite his background. The foreman Bedford barely spoke to him, but fortunately they had little contact. Sumner began doing odd jobs about the ranch, and only rarely any range work like rounding up strays. Bedford would occasionally give him some unwarranted criticism, and Sumner made no objection.
When he had been there just under a week, the roan’s lameness got worse, and Allison put the animal out to pasture and presented Sumner with a beautiful black stallion with white markings on its forehead and two feet. Sumner loved it at first sight, and bought a dark saddle for it that was already fitted with a rifle scabbard.
In the third week, Allison bought Sumner a brand new Colt .45 Peacemaker complete with a holster and gun-belt. All of this came out of Sumner’s pay but he had nothing else to spend his money on anyway. At the end of that week, Allison began taking Sumner out behind a big barn and showing him all about the Colt, and how to use it. He wasn’t an easy teacher.
‘No, no! Squeeze the damn trigger! You’re still pulling at it! Eyes wide open! Keep that shooting arm straight as a ramrod! Don’t see anything but the bullseye!’ The targets were fifty yards away.
At the end of the summer, Sumner could hit a half dollar that Allison threw into the air before it hit the ground. And hit a bullseye at fifty yards nine out of ten times.