by J. R. WRIGHT
Katie laid the shotgun in the narrow space between the buildings and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Feverishly she waved her arms, trying to get Preston’s attention. His eyes, however, were on the automobiles coming and going. Finally in a panic she just walked out into traffic, putting a hand up to the automobiles as she walked. It had always worked for her before, why not now?
When she reached the center of the street she expected to do the same on the other side, but the sheriff had spotted her and was having none of it. “You stay right there, Katie!” he yelled, throwing up a hand. “You’ll get yourself run over!”
“I’m wearing a dress, Sheriff! Nobody wants to run over a woman!” she went on across — cars braking to a stop as she did.
“Damn you!” he said when she reached him. “Must you always antagonize …”
“Shut up, Sheriff, and listen! There’s a man over at the tavern on the lookout for you. I don’t know why, but I think he’s trouble.”
“What does he look like?” Concern immediately consumed his face.
“Brown hair, old weathered face, tall, slim, big black hat … He’s wearing a duster. I’m thinking he may have a gun under it.”
“What kind of gun?”
“I don’t know, Preston. Maybe a pistol, like you have on. He looks scary — there’s no expression to his face.”
“You stay here, Katie. I’ll go have a look.”
“No don’t, Sheriff,” Katie screeched. “I have a bad feeling about this …”
“I said I’d handle it!” he snarled. “Now do as I say!”
Katie walked on up the sidewalk, all the while watching Preston Ames making his way across the street. When she got to a place across from the old horse tank in the center of the street, she crossed to it. From there she could see without being in any danger. If a shootout should occur, she could always duck behind it.
With the sheriff coming, the man in the tavern stepped out onto the sidewalk and seemed to be waiting. The sheriff continued on across the street and approached him. Ten feet from the stranger he stopped. They faced each other for what seemed a long while. Then in a flash the sheriff was all over the man. He forced him into the tavern wall and before long came away with a large pistol.
Katie, her heart thumping wildly, went the rest of the way across the street and saw the sheriff pushing the man up the sidewalk in the direction of the jail. She picked up the shotgun between the buildings, ran to the back and reentered the tavern. To calm herself she went back to washing glasses.
Twenty minutes later Sheriff Ames entered the tavern and walked directly up to her. “Misses Peck.”
“Sheriff,” Katie returned, noticing Ames was having some trouble looking at her. His eyes were all over the room.
“I want to thank you for the warning,” he said. “But I can’t help but wonder why you did it after all I put you through.”
“Gee, I don’t know, Sheriff. Maybe it’s because you’re one of the good guys. I mean, I don’t agree with your methods, but in your heart, I have to believe you’re a decent man.”
“I am a decent man, Katie. Would it be too much to ask, after all that’s happened, we at least remain civil toward one another?”
“I was hoping we could become friends, Sheriff? I don’t do civil well. With me it’s either sweet cream or sour milk. I guess I’m not equipped with an in between.”
“I suppose we can give it a try, if you want … I don’t have many.”
“Oh, I think you have more than you know. Friends, then …” Katie extended a hand.
Preston took it for a firm grip just as a renegade tear appeared in one of his eyes, and his pinched lips loosened some.
“So who was that guy?” Katie asked.
“Just an old has been gunslinger from the old days looking to put one more notch in his gun before he dies. Or maybe he just wanted to die … whichever. They come from time to time. The last one was two years ago. I had to put him down. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
This gave Katie a chill up her spine that caused her to stiffen.
“His name is William ‘Willie’ Balfore. You may remember him as The Dawson Kid, if you were ever a reader of dime novels.”
“What’s a dime novel?” Katie asked.
Ames glared at her as if he was trying to remember what era he was in at the moment. “You never heard of a dime novel, Katie?” he laughed. “I’ve got several boot boxes filled with them. I’ll bring a few, if you’re interested?”
“I’d like that,” Katie said, and she smiled warmly.
A silence fell over the room for a long moment as each were deep in thought.
“Yancey’s gone,” Katie said.
“He came by — picked up that little derringer and some clothes he left in the cell.”
“Well, I’m sure glad he didn’t leave any reason to return,” Katie said, with a healthy measure of sarcasm.
“He’ll be back.”
“What makes you so sure?” Katie brightened.
“A coon dog on the hunt never strays far from the scent, Katie.” He turned toward the door, listing a little to the left — looking older now. His long white hair shifted from side to side as he walked.
“Preston …” she called after him. “Get back here … You need to explain that!”
“Another time, Katie. Another time …” He tossed a wave over his head.
Katie smiled and went back to washing glasses. Looking back to the open door, she saw him crossing the street. With a hand up to stop traffic he never broke stride the entire way across.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Striker’s trial, from start to finish, lasted only two hours and he was off to Terryville by mid-afternoon. The trial hadn’t drawn much of a crowd. Everybody knew in advance what the outcome would be.
Business at the tavern was fairly brisk though. It seemed the place never had two slow days in a row. Katie had wanted to read one of the dime novels the sheriff had dropped off just after opening for the day, but hadn’t the chance, other than to peruse a few of the rather primitive covers. It took her a while to realize most of them featured him. One had a sketch of a gunslinger resembling Ames in action on the front, both pistols blazing. It carried the name: “Preston Ames Gets His Man.” Another was titled: “Sheriff Preston Ames, Outlaw Killer.” And yet another had in red lettering, dripping in blood: “No Ropes for the Barton Gang.” The sketch was of several dead bodies with Preston in the background, smoke rising from his silver pistols. “Oh my,” she couldn’t help but say to herself as she put the little books away.
Wanda came over after her shift at the eatery and begged to help out, so Katie put her to waiting tables. Wanda preferred doing that anyway. It gave exposure to her ample rear end as she wiggled from table to table, batting her eyelashes to every stud in the place. But that didn’t last long. Within the hour she was headed for the door with a likely candidate for one of her many weekly romps, not so much as a so long on her way out. She’d probably be back; it was early. Often she had more than one man of a night visit her little room above the eatery.
Katie thought her conduct distasteful, but was open minded enough to realize she performed a needed service for young men in the area, who otherwise may prey on innocent young girls.
Now her mind went to Yancey, and she wondered how many women like Wanda he had visited over the years … perhaps some of them prostitutes. To dash the thought, she put herself under him. This cast a glow of sanctity over the scene, and aroused her immensely. She then pictured the two of them getting it on in an animal fashion, his spurs jangling all the while. This prompted her to do something she seldom did. She latched onto a mug, drew it half full of ice cold beer and chugged it down. Following that she belched loudly.
“Are you all right, Katie?” Ralph Longley said from across the bar.
“Quite,” she said, blushed from embarrassment, and moved away. But that was why she had left Nashville seven years previous, and rode th
e train west until she came to this dusty little town. Gentlemen, with their fancy suits and silk underwear, no longer excited her … she wanted to be among real men who carved out a living by the sweat of their brow, captured their women with lariats and rode them to the ground like wild broncos. Of course, she hadn’t exactly found that here … but close, in the form of Yancey Burke. Why she hadn’t collared and taken him to her bed long ago was beyond her. Perhaps it was because he was so quiet … reserved, sort of. It took two years before she even knew he liked her. And since then she’d waited, one long month after another, for another of his day or so visits, hoping upon hope the day would eventually come when he made a move on her. So far that hadn’t happened. And now he was gone … and so should she be. She’d been thinking a lot lately of going home to Tennessee. Screw Yancey, if he couldn’t find it within himself to stick around … after all she’d done for him. But she wouldn’t leave here, she knew that. At least not yet. What could another month or two hurt, after all this time?
NEARLY TWO MONTHS LATER
Last week of July, 1919
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
It was so hot Katie found it necessary to make frequent trips to the ice room to prevent the cotton dress she wore from clinging to her skin in embarrassing places. And to make matters worse, it seemed every man in the area chose this day to come to town for a few, or more, cold beers.
“Guess what, Katie …” Even though it was rowdy in the tavern, there was no mistaking that voice. Katie looked up and saw him coming toward her. She swooned a little, then refocused. Now he was there at the bar, looking trim and handsome in a tapered white suit with black trim around the pockets and lapels. On his head was a large white hat to match. “… We’re going to California!”
“What did you say?” she said softly.
He threw out his arms and gathered her shoulders from across the bar. “I said we’re going to California!”
“We?”
“Yes, we … you and me!” he said excitedly. “I have to be there in a week. They want me to be in pictures, Katie!”
“Pictures?” Of course she knew about moving pictures, she’d seen a few of them in Nashville. Little one reel things that lasted only twenty or thirty minutes. She liked Charlie Chaplin, she recalled. “As an actor … doing what?”
“Doing what I do: riding, roping, shooting bad guys … I’ll be the hero, Katie.”
“How did this happen, Yancey? Where were you all this time?”
“Calgary …”
“Calgary, as in Canada?”
“Yeah, in Canada. When I left here all I wanted was solitude … time to think … figure everything out. So I rode for weeks, just enjoying the wild … I didn’t see anybody, Katie. It was great! Anyway, once I got it all under control and was ready to start heading back, I suddenly heard all this commotion coming from over the next hill. They were familiar noises so I rode to investigate. Cowboys were rounding up some wild horses, so I gave them a helping hand by roping a few for them. Well, one thing led to another, and it turned out these horses are to be used in some expedition to be held in Calgary in a week. They wanted me to hire on, not only to help with the horses, but to take part in the stampede.”
“Stampede? Isn’t that dangerous?”
“It is, but in this case it’s the name of the wild west show and rodeo they were holding there. It was put on by this fellow named Guy Weadick. So I was working for him even though I hadn’t met him yet.”
“What does all this have to do with you being in pictures?”
“I’m getting to that ... I tell you Katie when we got there I never saw so many people in one place in my life. For the rodeo, I rode broncos, I rode bulls, I roped calves and I even took part in the chuck wagon races. I can’t tell you how much prize money I won. And the people in the grandstands loved me.”
Hearing that, Katie smiled. She was happy because he seemed to be.
“So when it was all over after a week and everybody was packing up to go home, this dude came up to me, said his name was Selig … Colonel William Selig. Said he owned this picture studio in a place called Edendale — it’s close to Los Angeles. Selig said they can’t find real cowboys anymore and says he wants me to come there to be an actor in Western movies. He promised me a hundred dollars a week to start, and more when people get to know me better. I’m supposed to be there next week to start.”
“So, maybe you are the last buckaroo …” Katie said, and smiled again, remembering what she’d called Yancey sometime back.
Yancey returned the smile, exposing the deep dimples at his cheeks. “So how ‘bout it?”
“So, how about what?”
“Will you go with me, Katie?”
“Well, I can’t just pick up and run off with you, Yance. Not without having some assurances you won’t run away again.”
“What is it you want, Katie?”
Boldly she said, “Well, you could marry me.”
“But you’re already married, aren’t you? I mean, I figured he wasn’t around anymore, but …”
Katie lifted her left hand and swiftly removed the gold band from her ring finger. “Oh, this old thing … It was my grandmother’s. When I first came here somebody mistook it for a wedding ring. I just never set anybody straight thereafter. Sorry!”
“Well,” Yancey said. “I would have proposed before had I known.”
“Is that a yes?” Katie said, anxiously.
“Miss Katie Peck, I’d be right proud if you were to become my wife,” Yancey said, smiling broadly.
Katie screamed and pulled him over the bar for a sweaty kiss.
With that the entire place roared. It seemed everyone had been patiently awaiting this moment. Now mugs started to pound tables. It also appeared some of them were awaiting refills.
Just then Wanda came through the door, saw Katie and Yancey kissing at the bar and said, “I knew it!” She then went behind the bar and began refilling mugs. “Why don’t you take it to the ice room? It’s too hot in here for that.”
Katie and Yancey were married the following day. There was no time to bring in family, so Katie asked Helmer to step in for her father. The wedding was held at Katie’s church to a full to overflowing crowd. Some of the church ladies had come up with the dress and Yancey wore his fancy white suit. Afterward everyone went to the tavern, men and women alike, for a celebration. Katie and Yancey, however, slipped away shortly after dark.
It was later reported by a few who just happened to be in the vicinity of Katie’s house that night, strange jangling noises could be heard coming from it periodically, right up until dawn.
The following day, Ralph from the hotel came with his carriage and transported them, along with their luggage, to the train station. Again hundreds were present for the sendoff.
Even Sheriff Ames made his appearance. “The prettiest ones always get away,” he said to Katie, and gave her a fatherly hug.
“Is that what happened to you, Sheriff?” Katie said. She knew he’d never married.
“She gave me an ultimatum. Give up the badge or else. I guess you know the rest of that story.”
“That’s sad, Preston. If you had it to do over …”
“Nothing would change, Katie. I was born to do what I do. No woman can change that.”
“You stay safe, okay?” Katie said and hugged him back. “When I return someday, I’ll expect to see you here.”
“Count on it. I ain’t going anywhere.”
“No, I don’t suppose you are … This town, this county, needs you Preston … they all know that.” She then saw tears well up in his old eyes. He turned and made his way through the crowd. She watched him go, until he disappeared among them, before turning back to Yancey.
Once on the Pullman car platform, having Yancey by the hand, Katie turned to the people fanned out before her and said, “Seven years ago I came to this beautiful town of yours looking for my very own cowboy. Now that I have him, it’s time for me to selfishly say t
hank you for your hospitality, and sadly bid you all farewell. It’s been wonderful knowing you!” They then entered the car to an abundance of cheers and whistles. Who could ask for anything better than this, she thought, and allowed Yancey to guide her to the seat.
Shortly thereafter the train lurched and they were underway.
“I’ve never been to California,” Yancey said. “Colonel Selig said it’s paradise.”
“Wherever you are, Yance, will always be paradise for me,” Katie said. She clutched his arm and laid her head on his shoulder.
Yancey took one of her hands in his and said, “I’ll make you happy, Katie … I promise.”
She looked to him. “You already have … Buckaroo!” She kissed his cheek. “Just don’t lose track of those spurs, okay?” She laughed.
“Never!” He laughed with her.
AFTERWARD
Yancey Burke went on to appear in over a hundred and thirty pictures, some alongside the legendary Tom Mix, who was under contract at the same studio. He and Katie had three children and eventually bought a ranch in the piney woods area of Wyoming, where they spent many a night sleeping out under the stars.
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