by J. Lee Butts
Said, “Calm down, gents. Caleb, I’m sure our breakfast guest has no intention of staying on in Salt Valley any longer than necessary. Do you, Skaggs?”
He looked surprised at my assessment for about two seconds and shot back, “I’d like to get a bath and sleep in a bed, a night or two, before moving on.”
“Why don’t you do that,” I suggested. “And as a gesture of my sincere appreciation for the information you’ve brought, let your short stay be my treat. Just tell the hotel desk clerk to put your room and bath on my bill.”
My proposition had the desired effect. His attention moved from Caleb back to me. “Right nice of you to offer, Ranger Dodge, but I can take care of my own living expenses.”
Nodded, waved, and said, “Whatever you want.”
Angry gun hound shoved his chair away from the table and stood. “Well, what I say is, keep an eye peeled for other men like me. Heavily armed and with a dead-eyed look unlike any of the hoople-heads around these parts. Sure as chiggers itch, murderers are on their way as we speak. And be totally assured, they’re comin’ to kill you, and especially the woman, Dodge.”
He eased around the table as though certain we meant to shoot him in the back. Disappeared into the hotel’s lobby. Through the door, I heard him order up a room and steamin’-hot bath.
Caleb snatched his hat off and placed it in his lap. “Don’t know about you, Dodge, but I believe ’im. Hard to admit such, but I do.”
“Yeah, ugly tale definitely has the ring of truth. I’ll get out to Mrs. Savage’s place this afternoon. We’ll work a plan and go from there.”
Finished my breakfast. Strolled down the boardwalk and caught a freckle-faced kid in front of Broome’s Mercantile and Dry Goods Store. Said, “You know where Mrs. Savage lives, son?”
“Yessir. Out on the north edge of town. End of Main Street. Past the sawmill.”
“That’s right. Give you four bits if you’ll take this to her and wait for an answer.”
On the back of Dianna Savage’s calling card I wrote a short message inquiring if that evening would be convenient for her offer of a meal. Folded the tiny piece of paper, handed it to the kid, and said, “Wait for her reply. You can find me over yonder on the hotel veranda, or maybe at the jail. Understand?”
“Where’s my four bits?” he asked.
“Get it when you come back with my reply.”
“Aw, come on, Ranger. You gotta cough up at least two bits, or I ain’t doin’ nothin’.”
Must admit I admired the barefooted rascal’s nerve. Paid him his two bits and he hit the road running. Thirty minutes later he found me back in my chair in the shade.
Snatched his hat off and held it against his chest with both hands. Said, “The lady wants me to say as how this afternoon around five o’clock would be mighty fine, if that’s to your satisfaction. Said she would look forward to your visit, Ranger.”
“That’s just capital. Here’s the rest of your money, young feller. Go back and tell her I’ll be there.”
He toed the dirt and shook his head. “Now I contracted to deliver your message fer four bits. You want another’n done, it’ll cost you another four bits.”
“Your daddy a lawyer by any chance?” I asked.
Kid looked surprised and said, “How’d you know.”
“Just a wild guess.”
We haggled a bit more over what I proclaimed as his exorbitant fee. By that point the whole experience had turned into a good bit of fun. I finally relented and we agreed on another four bits for delivery of my reply.
He gave me back most of the coins I’d initially paid with. Said he wanted paper money. Watched him hotfoot it down the dirt road and thanked my lucky stars I probably wouldn’t have to do business with the overly smart little shit as an adult.
4
“. . . THEY MEAN TO KILL THE BOTH OF US.”
RATHER THAN PULL Grizz out of the livery for such a short ride, decided I’d walk to the Savage residence. Pleasant stroll cleared my head and lifted sagging spirits. Ever since the dustup in Salt Valley’s main thoroughfare, I’d been thinking as how there’s just nothing like getting shot in the head to get your undivided attention. Such God-sent events do have the power to set a man to puzzling over his own mortality.
By the time I arrived in front of Mrs. Savage’s neatly kept, whitewashed cottage, I felt better than I had in more than a week.
Pushed open the gate on the freshly painted picket fence, crossed the only patch of lush, green grass I’d seen around any of the town’s residences, removed my hat, and tapped on the front door. Barely had time to take note of the carefully tended beds of multicolored wildflowers that encircled the entire home.
Dianna Savage answered my knock immediately. Her appearance gave me the distinct impression that the lady had anticipated the visit and spied my approach through one of her curtained front windows.
My God, but the woman’s beauty was dazzling for a rough-and-tumble lawdog like me. Stood in the splendid lady’s doorway and got right flustered. Stared at my dusty boots and, for several seconds, searched for, but couldn’t find, the proper words.
Looking back on that singular event from the vast reaches of time, I know now Dianna had most likely spent the entire afternoon molding herself into an image designed to specifically bring poor defenseless men, like me, to their physical and emotional knees. Suffice it to say, her efforts had exactly the expected effect on one highly impressed, and grateful, Texas Ranger.
Regal, in a dove-gray high-necked dress that probably cost as much as my saddle and emphasized her tiny waist, the lady’s simple, unvarnished beauty sucked the breath right out of me. Caught myself staring like a loon at her provocative lips, and almost stumbled backward when a passing breeze tickled my nose with a brand of perfume that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
On my third stumbling attempt to speak, she brought a silk kerchief out, dabbed at those inviting lips, then said, “Would you care to come inside, Mr. Dodge?”
Must have looked like a big-eyed colt, and sounded like a half-brained man lookin’ to find a corner in a round room when I managed to blurt out, “Why, yes. Indeed I would, Mrs. Savage.”
She motioned me into a small, wallpapered parlor located to the left of the front entrance. Decorated with expensive store-bought furniture and heavy wine-colored drapes, the comfortable, homey room was dominated by a rustic stone fireplace that almost covered one whole wall.
She motioned me toward a chair and said, “Please take the brocaded one, Mr. Dodge. It is, by far, the most comfortable seat in the house. Prior to his untimely departure, my husband favored that chair. Loved to bounce William on his knee while sitting in it.”
Astonishing woman gracefully slid onto a settee near a delicate-legged end table loaded down with coffee, cups, and cakes. In pretty short order I sported an uncomfortable lap covered by an embroidered cloth napkin, a china cup smaller than a thimble, and at least one of everything she had to offer. Spent the rest of my time in that parlor deathly afraid I’d break something before I could make my escape.
For some minutes we exchanged meaningless pleasantries; then, I noticed that her son was not in evidence. Indirectly approached the subject and said, “And how is young William, Mrs. Savage?”
She shook her head and dabbed at the corner of one eye with her lace hankie. “Well, Mr. Dodge, as well as can be expected, I suppose. William sleeps inordinately of late and is napping at this very moment. I fear the child still evidences a degree of lingering nervousness and apprehension as a result of our recently shared experience.”
“My memory of him is of a handsome, bright, and bold youngster. Is there anything I might do to help, Mrs. Savage?”
“Most five-year-old boys eventually recover from just about any trauma, sir. I feel certain my son is no exception.” She paused and dropped her gaze, for a second, before continuing. “You know, I thought I had chosen a town so far removed from the vagaries of Texas lawlessness and v
iolence that my son would be completely safe. I fear my judgment may well have failed me in this instance.”
She had subtly offered me an entrance into a more personal area of her life with such comments, so I opened the door a bit wider. “Marshal Oakley tells me you came to Salt Valley after your husband died in a tragic fall.”
For the first time she offered a slight smile. “The local gossips appear to have been at work again. I fear they often labor much too hard at spreading groundless tales as the truth. No, Mr. Dodge, my husband did not die in a fall. He was murdered by business associates in Shelbyville—a town located in that area of Texas sometimes referred to as the Redlands.”
Shook my head in disbelief. “That news is most distressing to hear. Please accept my sympathies for an unacceptable loss.”
“Evil men sought to lay their bloody hands on a small fortune he’d acquired through land speculation. But shortly before his death that thoughtful man converted his vast holdings into cash, placed the money in a secret bank account, and informed me how to acquire the funds should anything wayward occur.” She fingered a miniature timepiece held to her bodice by a slip of lace. “Looking back on the event, I am almost certain he had a premonition of his brutal passing. Today I am a wealthy woman as a result of his foresight, Mr. Dodge. Perhaps the wealthiest woman in this part of the state.”
“And one helluva a shot, I might add.” Realized my social blunder immediately. “Forgive my lapse into questionable language, ma’am. I fear my crudity results from rough-and-ready company most of the time.”
Pleased me no end when she held the handkerchief over her mouth and cut loose with lusty, robust laughter. “Ah, yes. Well, sir, even my father’s extensive investments in Mrs. Cranston’s New Orleans Finishing School for Accomplished Young Women did little to erase a rambunctious childhood on the Texas frontier. I was raised in the company of six astonishingly profane brothers. Your ‘lapse,’ as you call it, is of no consequence.”
With that candid confession, she stood and waved me into her dining room and, perhaps, the best home-cooked meal I’d consumed since leaving the shelter of my mother’s tender care. When the coffee finally came, and she’d settled back into her chair, I deemed it the best time to broach the topic that actually brought me to her that evening.
Sat my delicate cup in its matching saucer and said, “Mrs. Savage, I fear we are compelled to discuss a most serious subject before I take my leave from you tonight. I must bring to your attention a matter that could bear heavily upon you and your son’s well-being.”
Could detect no surprise in her voice, or appearance, at my ominous-sounding declaration. “While I had hoped this visit would remain purely social, and admit to looking forward to seeing you again, sir, I feared that such was the case. I take it you have some news relating to the recent death of the thief Reuben Coffin—by my hand.”
Put the cup and saucer aside and leaned toward her in as intimate a gesture as proper deportment would allow. “Marshal Oakley and I have developed what we feel is reliable information that leads us to believe a price has been put on our lives and evil men are on their way to Salt Valley to collect. According to the best information I’ve been able to develop, those selfsame men mean to kill the both of us.”
“And how would you suggest I proceed, Mr. Dodge?”
“As we haven’t much time to decide on a course of action, it would be my recommendation that we leave this place as quickly as possible. Seek refuge in Fort Worth. I sincerely doubt even the most determined of killers would follow us into Company B’s Ranger camp. Even those bold enough to admit their connection to a man of Nate Coffin’s infamous reputation.”
Her hand shook as she put her own cup aside. She stood, then strode majestically to one of the windows that faced Salt Valley’s central thoroughfare, pulled the curtain aside with one finger, and gazed into a night bathed in gold-tinted moonlight.
“While I must admit to a degree of fear, Mr. Dodge, it is not for my own life, but my son’s. William, you see, is my life.”
“Please believe that I understand those sentiments completely, ma’am.”
“You, and everyone in town, are now privy to my skill with firearms. I can outshoot with rifle or pistol just about any man I’ve ever met, and have no qualms about exercising my God-given ability if forced to do so.”
“An admirable trait, ma’am, but not one I’m sure will help you in this particular instance.”
She turned and hit me with an icy stare. “I find your concern for my safety most comforting, Mr. Dodge, but I’ll not be rooted out of my home again. William and I came here on a wave of personal tragedy. We aim to stay in Salt Valley no matter what comes our way. Do you understand my feelings on this matter, sir?”
Moved to the lady’s side. Touched her forearm and detected no resistance. In fact, she moved ever so slightly my direction. Her shoulder brushed against my chest.
“Marshal Oakley and I are sworn to your protection, both personally and professionally, Mrs. Savage. We’ll do whatever is necessary in service of those oaths. But please be advised, Nate Coffin has placed a sizable bounty on both our heads. In his twisted, murderous mind we are responsible for his brother’s poor choices in life. The man means to have us dead, and killers are likely on their way as we now speak.”
The weight and smell of her became more powerful as she leaned closer and almost whispered, “Let them come, Mr. Dodge. Desperate men might be surprised by a woman determined to protect her son’s life, as well as her own, assisted by a valiant Texas Ranger and a stalwart town marshal.”
Thought dawned on me, at that exact moment, as how there was simply no more to be said on the subject. Realized she would likely not yield, no matter how keen my reasoning. Besides, my growing infatuation with that stunningly beautiful female simply would not allow me to force the issue.
Took her hand in mine, raised it toward my lips, kissed the back, then said, “Your obedient servant, Mrs. Savage.”
She placed her free hand on my arm, then fiddled with a button on my vest. Behind flushed cheeks, she brought her mouth so near my ear I could feel the moist warmth of scented breath. “Please don’t think me too bold, sir. But I must admit you are the first man to inspire an almost forgotten feeling of passionate confusion in my blood.” Then she quickly moved half a step back, and barely breathed, “Your most ardent admirer, Mr. Dodge.”
Surprise doesn’t come anywhere near a description of my feelings at that instant. Backed away in delighted bewilderment, mumbled my thanks for the meal, and hastily retreated for the door.
As I stepped onto her small but immaculate porch, she reached out, lightly touched my elbow, and said, “Do come back at your own convenience, Mr. Dodge.”
Kissed her hand again and hurried to the gate, but stopped before I reached the street, turned, and said, “I would stay on a bit longer, but fear I cannot trust my judgment as to proper conduct at the moment, Mrs. Savage.” Shoved my hat on my head, and damn near ran all the way back to my hotel room.
Spent a sleepless night of constantly raking through every word she had spoken to me, every blissful movement, each and every possibly suggestive gesture. Next morning as I took breakfast with Caleb in my favorite spot on the veranda, explained Dianna’s feelings about our combined desires for her safety.
Old marshal didn’t mince words. Poked a crisp piece of bacon into his mouth and, through grinding bites, grumbled, “You realize, of course, Coffin’s henchmen will come and kill us all, including the child.”
Felt convinced of the rightness of my thoughts on the matter. Said, “Oh, I think we’ll be reasonably safe, so long as we pay attention and don’t do anything stupid.”
“Could use a little more experienced help around here, Lucius. My two deputies aren’t much more than resident loafers who took the only jobs they could get. Both of ’em are the closest things to bar squeezin’s you could dredge up around these parts.”
“I’ll wire Boz this morning, Caleb.
Tell him to get back as fast as good horses can run. He should have delivered Buster into the clutches of the Tarrant County sheriff by now. Man loves a fight. He’ll hurry back this way as quickly as possible. Once Tatum arrives, we’ll take turns talking with Dianna until we change her mind.”
Oakley stroked his chin sagely and said, “Most likely all it’ll take to modify Mrs. Savage’s rigid attitude is for something ugly and wayward to occur. We can always hope for the best, but as my ole granpappy used to say, ‘Hopin’ ain’t never gonna make it so.’ ”
Little could I have known that something ugly, wayward, armed to the teeth, and hungry for blood had recently crossed the San Saba River, and would soon fall on all of us like prairie thunder. Bloody death was coming to Salt Valley.
5
“AMAZING WHAT TWO GALLONS OF COAL OIL CAN DO.”
CANNOT BRING TO mind a single circumstance worse than being awakened from a sound sleep by the distant, distinct, and persistent sound of gunfire—lots of gunfire. If you ply the lawdog’s trade for any time at all, such events usually slap you with the unavoidable foggy-minded conclusion that someone has probably died as a result of a rudely applied dose of hot lead. Snapped to consciousness in my hotel room and instinctively knew that the remote blasting I heard came from a spot out past Salt Valley’s sawmill—Dianna Savage’s house.
Sat bolt upright and thumped onto the floor in my sock feet. Got somewhat dressed. Grabbed my pistol belt, rifle, and boots on the way out the door. Stumbled into the hotel lobby still bootless. Burst through the door, dropped to the edge of the boardwalk, and hastily pulled the boots on.
Hit the street just in time for Marshal Oakley to thunder up on a long-legged bay mare. He led an already saddled hay burner for me. Disheveled and flushed, the visibly concerned lawman appeared to have been aroused in the exact same fashion as I had.
Couldn’t help but notice the pained expression on his weather-beaten face. “Gotta hurry, Lucius. Sounds like someone’s trying to level the Savage place.”