Good Man - Bad Enemy

by Gary Church

“Yes, well, according to her attorney, it was an unexpected death. The reason I’m here,” he paused, “is that I have been retained by her attorney, since he resides in New York City, to handle the details of her will in this part of the country.” Smiling, he continued. “Of course, that only pertains to you. Are you aware she married a wealthy trader?”

  “Yes, she mentioned a marriage—a happy marriage,” said Jace, becoming more puzzled by the second.

  “Well, her husband preceded her in death. Let’s see…” he pulled some papers from the inside pocket of his coat and studied them. “He died of the consumption in February of this year.”

  “My aunt didn’t mention he was ill,” said Jace, “but she wouldn’t have. She never wanted to burden folks with her problems.”

  “That being as it may, the reason I am here is that your aunt left you a sum of money in her will, and I am to see that it is transferred to your care.”

  “I see,” said Jace. “What do I need to do?”

  “Accompany me to your bank, where I will deposit the monies and obtain a receipt from you. I spoke to Mr. Duncan, your banker, and he assures me he can handle the transaction.”

  “How much money is it?” asked Jace.

  “Thirty thousand dollars, even,” said Mr. Porter calmly, as though it were three hundred dollars.

  “I’m sorry, can you say again?” asked Jace.

  “Thirty thousand dollars, even,” repeated Mr. Porter.

  “Thirty thousand dollars,” said Jace.

  “Even,” said Mr. Porter.

  The waitress appeared with the coffee pot and refilled the cups. Mr. Porter sat, sipping his coffee. He was experienced in dealing with clients in all matters, and it often took them a while to think through what he was telling them.

  Jace sat, sipped his coffee, his mind racing. Then, looking at Mr. Porter, he asked, “By any chance, when you checked with the banker, Mr. Duncan, did you mention the amount of my inheritance?”

  Mr. Porter looked uncomfortable. “Uh, this is a large amount. I needed to be sure it was something that could be safely handled by your bank. I’m sorry if I disclosed a confidence. I mean, he is your banker.”

  “Oh, it’s no problem,” said Jace, smiling. “I’m glad you checked. Really, it’s good for me to know the bank can handle it.”

  After he and the lawyer agreed to meet the next morning at the bank, Jace sat, sipping his coffee. Elizabeth’s sudden change of heart made sense now. She knew he had inherited money and planned to attach herself to it. He wasn’t due to see her again until the next Saturday. Well, telling her it was over would have to wait.

  Returning to the Circle C, Jace told the ranch foreman he had unexpected business and didn’t know how long he would be gone. The man told him Mr. Christie wasn’t on the ranch at the moment, and he might not have a job when he got back. Jace told him he understood.

  “Please tell Mr. Christie I’m sorry I had to leave sudden-like, but I’ll come see him when I get back.”

  B.R. was off somewhere with Betty, so Jace left him a cryptic note, saying his aunt died and he would be gone a spell to take care of some business.

  He met the lawyer at the bank when it opened the next morning. Mr. Duncan seemed awfully glad to see him, Jace thought, although the man didn’t seem all that happy when he had been courting Elizabeth. That task completed, Jace walked down the street to a law office and spoke to a lawyer about a homestead that he had visited once, up in Bandera County. He had been visiting a friend who worked for the man who owned the place. Before he left on the trail drive, he had run into his friend in the saloon and was told the man had moved and was selling the place. Jace hadn’t given it much thought, but now that he had money, the big house sitting on a hill in the Edwards Plateau might suit his plan.

  He bought another horse. His plan was to travel fast, stopping to sleep at night, but be on the move when the sun rose. With two horses, he could make better time.

  ***

  B.R. got in late Sunday afternoon and found Jace’s note. It didn’t explain much, and it wasn’t like Jace to disappear. After some thought, he vaguely remembered Jace mentioning an aunt in New York, but he was sure his friend hadn’t gone all the way there.

  B.R. began to think about the future. It seemed to him he might be able to raise a small herd and make a drive just as Mr. Christie had done, charging others a percentage for driving their herds. He had been on two drives now and knew the ins and outs of them. Yep, he thought, maybe he could get Jace to come. Jace had told him in confidence that he had been successful in winning Elizabeth back, although she needed some time to break it to her parents and fiancé.

  B.R. felt strongly that Elizabeth was playing at some sort of game with Jace, but he didn’t say anything. Well, if it worked out, Jace would also need a stake to get his own place going.

  What if things had turned bad again with Elizabeth, and Jace had just ridden off somewhere? No, B.R. didn’t think he’d do that without saying something. Hell, the fool might have actually gone to New York. That’d be just like him.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  Jace reached Weatherford, and the house he sought, in ten days of hard travel and living rough. Arriving there, he had taken a room, just to get a bath and shave and change clothes. He needed to make the best impression he could.

  Jace stood in the foyer of the large, rambling old house that seemed to have been constructed in sections, probably years apart. He held his hat and ran his hand through his hair. He was decked out from head to toe in the new clothes he had bought. In fact, he reflected, he didn’t reckon he’d ever been so dang clean and polished in his whole life. He wasn’t nervous, exactly. In fact, he was near to calm. He had told himself not to think what it would be like if he failed. For some reason, he remembered the time, right after the war, after getting paid and having a few whiskeys, he had put a month’s pay on one number at the faro table. He had felt weak at his boldness, and he had lost. It had taken him months to recover. But he didn’t think he could recover if he failed this time.

  Mrs. Covington appeared, and seeing Jace, she smiled broadly and quickly stepped up to embrace him. “Jace! What a wonderful surprise! Oh, my, let me look at you,” she said, stepping back. “Goodness, don’t you look handsome.” She beamed. “Oh, my manners. Please come into the parlor, there’s coffee on. My sister was so surprised when she opened the door, but she knew instantly who you were. We—Ruth, the boys, and I—have told everyone how brave and wonderful you are. I mean, we likely would not be here were it not for you. I thank God every night for sending you to us.”

  Taking Jace’s hat, she showed Jace to a small table in what was obviously a woman’s room, complete with an old piano. She placed the hat on a hook by the door, and he sat. They both sat silently for a minute, then Mrs. Covington’s sister came in with a pot of coffee and two cups. “Thank you,” said Mrs. Covington, smiling affectionately at her.

  As Jace poured coffee for the two of them, Mrs. Covington looked thoughtful and then asked, “Are you traveling alone, Jace?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Jace, wondering where Ruth was.

  After visiting a few minutes, Mrs. Covington could not avoid the subject any longer. “Ruth said you were returning to San Antonio with the hope of marriage…” Her voice trailed off, leaving the unasked question.

  “Yes, ma’am, that’s a fact, but, well, it’s kind of hard to explain. You ever wanted something really bad and then wondered why?”

  Mrs. Covington didn’t answer.

  “Well, anyway, I had my heart set on this girl, but you see, after I got back, I just couldn’t stop thinking about Ruth. I’m a little slow sometimes, I reckon, but I know I love her. That’s why I’m here.”

  Taking a sip of her coffee, Mrs. Covington held him in her eyes as though he might disappear if she looked away.

  “Mrs. Covington, I know I’m just a cowboy, but—” he stopped. Ruth’s mother was smiling.

  “So, Jace, you rode all the way fr
om San Antonio to see Ruth?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. Well, I mean, I wanted to see you and the boys, too,” he hurried to add.

  A sadness came over Mrs. Covington’s face, and Jace thought he might yell with fear as he saw her lips moving and heard her words, but they seemed to come from a tunnel. “I understand, Jace. There’s no accounting for the heart, but Ruth’s met a nice young man.”

  Jace stared at her. “Is she married?” he asked, his voice stiff.

  Mrs. Covington smiled a sad smile. “No, not yet, but I suspect it won’t be long.”

  “Mrs. Covington, I’m of a mind to present myself to Ruth and let her know my feelings.”

  Again, Ruth’s mother studied his face. “I think you’d best do that. Present yourself and see what Ruth says before you explode.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Covington,” said Jace, standing. “I’d appreciate it if you’ll tell me where I can call on her.”

  ***

  Leaving one horse to graze, Jace mounted up and headed in the direction he had been given. Riding up a slight bank and looking down, he could see the creek, trees, and two horses grazing, their reins dragging. A quilt was spread, a basket stood to one side, and a young man sat, his legs crossed in front of him, reading. A girl, wearing a bonnet, was lying on her stomach on the quilt, a book in front of her.

  Taking in the scene, Jace’s adrenalin flowed. He walked the horse down to the creek, stopping twenty feet from the pair. The young man looked up.

  “Can I help you?” asked the young man, his face twisted in puzzlement.

  Jace dismounted and dropped the reins. Stepping away from the horse, he watched as Ruth turned her head to look at him. Her big eyes grew wide at the sight of him, and Jace felt faint. Ruth sat up. The boy stood. Jace stepped forward a few steps.

  Jace held out his right arm, and pointing his finger at the young man, he said, “You stay still. I don’t want to have to shoot you.”

  The man’s face reflected his shock. Jace wasn’t wearing a gun, but still. Ruth’s mouth popped open.

  Looking at Ruth, Jace said, “I come… I come, well, I come to get back my book.”

  Ruth’s mouth shut. She stood staring at Jace. Neither moved.

  Finally, Ruth said, “It’s back at the house. I’ll meet you there.”

  “That’ll be fine,” said Jace, turning slightly to give the young man a hard stare.

  Arriving back at the farmhouse, Jace dismounted, took a drink from his canteen, and waited. Ruth and the young man rode into sight and toward the house, but with a wave, the man turned his horse up the road. Ruth rode up beside Jace and dismounted.

  Jace took her in. She looked exactly the same. She walked over to him and stared at him. He was grinning.

  “Why do you have that stupid grin on your face?” asked Ruth. “And why did you tell Arnold you might shoot him? Did a horse kick you in the head, or did you fall off again and hit your head on a rock?”

  Jace stood there, happy, so very happy to be near Ruth again.

  “Your book is upstairs. I’ll fetch it.”

  “Uh, can we take a walk, Ruth?”

  “Found your voice, did you? Maybe we can walk. Does your condition make you dangerous?”

  “Dangerous? Why, no. I mean, what condition?”

  “Maybe nobody has told you, cowboy, but you ain’t right,” said Ruth.

  “I know,” said Jace. “You see, that’s the problem. Well, can we walk a little?” he asked, looking up at the porch, fearful that Mrs. Covington might appear at any moment, and he needed time to have his say.

  “I guess, but if you get to acting any weirder, I might scream.”

  Jace smiled. “Thanks, Ruth.”

  They walked until they were out of sight of the house. Jace rambled on, telling Ruth about the stampede, the outlaws, and all that had transpired on the drive after they left Fort Worth. He asked about her. She explained they had been fine. They kept a large garden, some cows and hogs and a few horses. She was teaching Chase and Garrett their numbers.

  Finally, he could wait no longer. Jace saw a large pecan tree, at least one hundred years old. He guided her there, to a beautiful spot under the huge branches.

  She looked at him. “You sure you’re all right?” she asked.

  “We’ll know soon,” he responded, causing her big eyes to widen.

  Removing his hat, he dropped to one knee, took one of her hands, and said, “Ruth, can you see your way clear to be my wife?”

  Ruth looked down at him solemnly. “Are you proposing to me, cowboy?”

  “Yes,” said Jace. “Did I say it wrong?”

  “No, but seriously, have you landed on your head again lately?”

  Flustered, Jace stood up. “No, Ruth. I just, well, the long and short of it is, ever since you left, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you and what a wonderful person you are.”

  Ruth continued to study him, her face serious. “I got a fellow courting me. You met him—Arnold.”

  “I know,” said Jace. “But I ain’t giving up. Need be, I’ll set up camp yonder and wait.”

  “Wait for what?” asked Ruth.

  “For you to say you’ll marry me,” replied Jace.

  “What if I marry Arnold?”

  Jace paled. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

  “Will you shoot Arnold and leave me a widow?”

  Jace looked at her. “No, I want you to be happy, so if marrying Arnold makes you happy, I would be happy for you.”

  They stared at each other.

  “Jace, what happened with the girl in San Antonio?” asked Ruth.

  Smiling, Jace said, “She was very glad to see me, and well, she told me she loved me, but,” he paused, “when she said that, it occurred to me I didn’t love her. As a matter-of-fact, it dawned on me I didn’t even like her.”

  Ruth stared at him.

  “Dang, Ruth. You sure don’t make it easy on a man. I don’t know what I was thinking. All I know is I love you, and that’s that.”

  Ruth looked at him, a sad expression appearing on her face.

  Jace began to panic. Pressing his case, he said, “I know you’re worried about me being a cowboy and all, but I got a lawyer helping me get my own spread, and it has a house—a pretty big house, and your mother and brothers and aunt can all come live with us.” He stopped, out of breath.

  Ruth, her expression not changing, said, “So, Jace, if I marry you and then you break a leg or something, will I have to work as a saloon girl to support us?”

  It took a moment for Jace to process what she had said. “Why, no, no. A saloon girl? No! Hey, are you funnin’ me?” he asked, studying her face.

  After a moment, Ruth smiled. “Yes, cowboy, I’m funning you, and you deserve every bit of it. I’ve sat up here for weeks, watching the road, wondering if you might come.” She paused. “And yes, I love you, and I’ll marry you.”

  Jace sailed his hat into the air. “Yaaaaaa Hoooooo!” he yelled.

  FORTY-EIGHT

  Ruth’s mother was overjoyed when informed of the couple’s engagement. Sitting around the kitchen table, drinking coffee, Ruth’s aunt asked a question that stumped Jace. “What happens now?”

  After a minute, Jace said, “I don’t know. Nobody ever said what happens next.”

  The three women laughed, and Jace began to run a bit red. Then he said, “I figured we’d live in San Antonio.” He looked at Ruth. “If it’s okay with you.”

  Ruth smiled, not her usual funny, squinty-eyed, pressed lips smile, but her mouth wide, her smile beautiful. For a moment, Jace lost his train of thought.

  Then he spoke again, talking fast, as though he had to get it out before something happened. “There’s a place, a beautiful place, with a big house on a little hill. Big enough for all of us and some land. I’ve asked a lawyer to see about buying it.” He paused, the three women watching him. “I inherited a little money from my aunt, so I can get things set up.”
>
  It was Ruth’s aunt who came to the rescue, gently asking Jace and Ruth to take a walk and discuss their future. Mrs. Covington added, “My sister and I would be fine here with the boys. It’s good for young people to have their own place.”

  In the end, the horses were seen to and placed in the corral, and Jace helped Ruth with her chores. As they talked about what lay ahead, Jace said, “I never really had a family, and I’ve enjoyed being around your mother and brothers.”

  Ruth admitted she was close to her mother and her little brothers. Finally, it occurred to Jace that he had money in the bank. “Well, Ruth, do you think your mother and aunt would be okay to live close to us?”

  Ruth’s mother and aunt protested the plan, but both Jace and Ruth could tell they were excited about being together and close to Ruth. Jace slept in the barn, and the next morning over breakfast, the details were worked out. Ruth’s aunt would accept an offer her neighbor had made to buy her property. Everything could be turned over to a local lawyer.

  That day they surprised the lawyer, showing up as a group, and after some conversation with him, they headed back home, discussing their plan on the way. A man named Ficklin was operating a stage line from Fort Smith, Arkansas all the way to San Antonio, and it made a stop in Dallas. Jace would accompany the group—Ruth, Mrs. Covington, Ruth’s aunt, and the boys—to the station in Dallas. Once there, he would sell the wagon, team, and his horses, and ride the stage with them to San Antonio.

  Ruth looked at Jace and he said, “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

  This brought laughter from Ruth, who was deliriously happy.

  It took days to get everything sorted out, but Jace had never been happier. Finally, the wagon loaded, the group headed for Dallas.

  ***

  They arrived in San Antonio, totally exhausted from the stagecoach ride. There were very loud protests from Ruth, her mother, and her aunt, when they arrived at the Menger hotel. “This place must cost a week’s wages every day!” exclaimed Mrs. Covington.