West of the Big River: Boxed Set of Eight Western Novels

by James Reasoner

  “That is awful, Daddy,” said Edith, once George had finished eating. “Why do men have to have guns? They kill people.”

  George sighed. He was all too well aware that Stella was vehemently against guns, as was his late wife, Katherine. Although he had to deal with their results, yet he both owned and carried guns when he needed to and he was prepared to use them.

  “It is a difficult issue, Edith, my dear. You know about the United States Constitution, don’t you?”

  “Of course, Daddy,” she replied with slightly beetled brows.

  “Well, according to the Second Amendment to the United States Constitution, it is every individual’s right to keep and bear arms.”

  Stella was sitting opposite him with her arms firmly crossed and her lips tightly pressed together. She caught George’s forbidding look and said nothing.

  But Edith was capable of holding her own in a discussion. Indeed, George had always encouraged that.

  “But just because you have a right to do something, that doesn’t make it…well, doesn’t make it right, does it, Daddy?”

  George smiled. “No, it doesn’t make it right, but unless everyone gave up their right to carry a gun, and I mean everyone, there would be a real danger. The problem is that there are bad people who would still carry guns, so they would be even more dangerous. If people have the right to carry a gun then they can at least defend themselves.”

  “But I don’t suppose Dr. Handy was carrying a gun?”

  George saw that the discussion was going to get difficult without explaining some of the background to the affair. That he was not prepared to do, even to win an argument. For one thing, he considered Edith too young to hear about Dr. Handy’s domestic problems.

  “No, Edith, Dr. Handy was not carrying a gun.”

  “Then the man who did it must have been a bad man.”

  “We can’t say that, Edith, my dear. You see, he says that he was carrying his gun to defend himself. And he claims that he was defending himself from Dr. Handy.”

  “Then I don’t believe him. I don’t think Dr. Handy would attack anyone.”

  George tousled her hair. “Well, that is not up to us to decide. That is where the law comes in, Edith. There will be a trial and it will all be decided in court.”

  “Well, I liked Dr. Handy and I am sad about it.”

  “I know, Edith. I am sad too. I tried to save him.”

  Edith nodded. “Do you mind if I go and read now?”

  “I never mind you reading, my dear. I’ll be going out again soon. I have a patient to see.”

  Once Edith had gone Stella started to clear the table. She pointed to the Epitaph.

  “Mr. Bagg has written a good piece about you, Doctor Goodfellow, sir. At least you managed to save that miner.”

  George picked up the newspaper and scanned the article. “Yes, I saved him, Stella.”

  He didn’t want to explain any more about him, especially since the miner had threatened to kill him. Nor, in view of the discussion that he had just had with Edith, did he intend to tell her that as a precaution he had a derringer in his coat pocket as well as his Italian poniard dagger in its concealed sheath.

  * * *

  Carlton Levine let George in and shook his hand.

  “I am sorry that I couldn’t come earlier. I was called away to Tucson.”

  “I know, George. The whole of Tombstone heard about it. Were you able to help?”

  “No, I am afraid not. The patient had been shot too many hours before.”

  Carlton patted George on the shoulder. “Well, if you couldn’t help, George, then I am sure that no one could.”

  George grunted noncommittally. “But more importantly, how is Esme?’

  Carlton’s face clouded. “Not so well, I am afraid. She is not vomiting as much, but she feels weak and is still having pains.”

  George followed the schoolteacher through to the bedroom.

  Esme was lying back against the pillows. She was stroking a sleek black cat that lay curled up on the bedspread.

  “Ah, Doctor Goodfellow. How good of you to come. Carlton told me that you had been called away.”

  “How are you feeling, Esme?”

  “I…I am a little better, I think. I have been managing some beef tea that Carlton made me. He always gives me it when I am poorly.”

  “Good. Beef tea is a good restorative. And perhaps you’ll manage some soup tomorrow.”

  George turned. “I’d like to examine Esme’s abdomen again. Could you give us five minutes?”

  “Of course, just call me when you are ready.”

  Once they were alone George waited for Esme to pull down the bedcovers and pull up her nightgown to let him look at her abdomen.

  He rubbed his hands, as he habitually did before palpating a patient’s abdomen. “Apologies if my hand is cold.”

  He felt around her tummy, then percussed as he had done the day before, before pulling out his stethoscope to listen.

  “Is that any less tender?”

  She gave the slightest nod. “A little easier, thank you.”

  “Which means it feels almost as bad, I think,” George stated. “And it feels exactly the same, which is what I would expect.” He pulled her nightdress down and replaced the bedcovers. “Have you reconsidered about telling Carlton what I found?”

  Esme looked at the cat, which had remained undisturbed throughout the examination. She reached out and stroked behind its ears. In response the cat purred, opened its eyes and licked her hand.

  “I know what you want, Tabitha,” she said, reaching for a cookie from a box on the bedside table. “You want one of Fiona Parker’s cinnamon and arrowroot cookies, don’t you?” She laid it in front of the cat, who immediately started licking the cinnamon powder from it before picking it up in its mouth and jumping down from the bed.

  “That’s a fine cat you have there.”

  “She’s my best friend, Doctor Goodfellow. She loves these cookies that Fiona Parker sends me.”

  George nodded. He recalled seeing her with conjunctivitis the morning before, after he had operated on red Douglas, the miner. “Fiona Parker, the librarian. She is also an assistant teacher at Carlton’s school, doesn’t she?”

  Esme frowned and George noticed a tightening of her jaw muscles. “That’s right. She is so talented - in so many ways.” She brushed the powder from her fingers. “But regarding your question, my mind is made up. I don’t want Carlton to know.”

  “Do you mind telling me why not, Esme?”

  “It’s complicated, Doctor Goodfellow. I…I have a lot to think about. Maybe soon I will be able to tell him.”

  George clicked his tongue and stood up. He opened the door and called Carlton through.

  “I think there is a very slight improvement, Carlton. I’d like you to keep giving Esme the same medicine and try to get her onto clear soup tomorrow, as the vomiting doesn’t worsen.”

  “Will you be calling again?” Carlton asked.

  “In a few days. I have to go away for a short spell and I’ll be taking Edith, my daughter.”

  “Somewhere nice, I hope?” Esme asked.

  “I think she’ll like it,” George replied a he picked up his medical bag. “She doesn’t know about it yet. It’s a surprise.”

  Carlton laughed. “Well, everyone enjoys being surprised.”

  Esme shook her head. “Not everyone likes surprises, Carlton. I am sure that I don’t.”

  As George walked back to his house he couldn’t help but wonder what Esme Levine meant.

  Chapter 6

  THE SNAKE RANCH

  Edith had been delighted when George informed her that they were all going to pay a visit to the ranch.

  “But I thought you said that we had to wait until your practice became a bit less busy?” Edith asked.

  George laughed. “I did, but I just decided that I need a break from medicine and surgery and you my dear daughter need to see those brands on the cattle at the
Snake Ranch.”

  Stella was not quite so enthusiastic. “And I suppose that I had better get my housecleaning things ready? Every time we go there, I find an accumulation of dust and sand in all of the rooms.”

  “That’s what you have to expect in the Huachuca Mountains, Stella.”

  “And it will be a sticky journey in this heat.”

  “It will, and we’ll have company on the way there,” George went on with a grin. “Well, not exactly live company.”

  Edith wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Daddy, we’re not taking some dead creature, are we?”

  “In a manner of speaking. We’ll be taking a dead pig. The hands at the ranch will welcome it and I daresay you’ll not mind some pork.”

  “But did you say we were taking a whole pig?” Stella asked in bemusement. “

  “I did. I ordered it from Godfrey Tribolet, the butcher.” His eyes twinkled. “But of course we’ll only need so much of it. The rest I’ll need for some experiments.”

  “Experiments, Daddy!” Edith exclaimed with delight. “Can I help you with them.”

  George tousled her hair. “Afraid not with these ones, my little Princess. These are grown up experiments.”

  Then seeing her dejected look he smiled. “But I tell you what. While we’re there we’ll do a little geology and I’ll take you out to look for fossils.”

  “Fossils! That’s amazing,” Edith gasped. “Can I go and look up one of your books in your study?”

  “Of course you can, Princess. You’ll find them under –”

  “I know! Under G for Geology.”

  George chuckled and even Stella managed a smile.

  “Science,” he said simply.

  “Just please don’t bring back too many old rocks with you, Doctor Goodfellow, sir. They accumulate dust.”

  * * *

  The journey early the next day proved perfectly enjoyable for all three of them. George drove the wagon that he had kept from his expedition to the Sonora earthquake disaster and which he had gotten Zach Donoghue, the carpenter to install a comfortable upholstered bench seat behind him, covered by a folding canopy so that Stella and Edith could ride in comfort. In the back was their luggage and various boxes full of books and some scientific paraphernalia for the trip. And under a tarpaulin at the very back was the carcass of the pig that he had collected from Godfrey Tribolet that morning.

  Tied to the back and contentedly coming along behind was El Rosillo, saddled and bearing the doctor’s G W Elliott medical saddlebags.

  Every now and then Edith would burst into song and the two adults would join in. George enjoyed himself, but yet he kept a watch on the terrain, just in case they should have any unexpected or unwelcome visitors. Despite their proximity to Fort Huachuca there were still reports of occasional forays by renegade apaches from the San Carlos Reservation.

  Despite Stella’s dislike of weapons, George was carrying his Navy Colt in the holster that hung by his side, and his Winchester was propped against his seat, within instant reach.

  But thankfully, there were no unwanted visitors.

  * * *

  George had bought a share in the Snake Ranch in the Huachuca Mountains, about eight miles from Charleston, on the San Pedro River some years before. It had formerly belonged to the Huachuca Cattle Company until George bought it with Joe Brown, whose store in Tombstone stocked everything from every type of musical instrument, to paint, brushes or even a baby buggy. The ranch consisted of well over two hundred fenced acres that supported a herd of longhorns and a ranch crew of half a dozen hands, a cook and a foreman.

  The ranch house was comfortable, but fairly spartanly furnished. Although Joe Brown was part owner, he rarely visited, so the study overlooking the range was effectively George’s preserve. It had well-stocked bookcases, a huge map of the area pinned to a wall, a large desk littered with business papers and ledgers, a tobacco jar and rack of pipes, a large magnifying glass on a mounted rotating arm and a microscope.

  Dan Legg, the foreman, a competent man of about forty with a huge handlebar mustache helped George unload the wagon while Stella went from room to room checking on what jobs needed doing about the ranch house. That left Edith to enjoy herself darting back and forth soaking up the atmosphere of the ranch. First, she went down to the bunkhouse to talk with Hector MacLeod, the ever-cheerful old Scottish cook to tell him that her father had brought a whole pig, then she went to watch the horses in the corral.

  Hector followed her. “Don’t go too close to that roan, my wee hen,” he cautioned. “He’s a biter. He took a piece out of young Hank’s behind the other day. We thought we would have to take him in to Tombstone to see the Doctor.”

  He produced a corncob pipe and struck a light to it. “Fortunately, the bleeding stopped when we told him that Doctor Goodfellow would have to stitch him up.”

  Edith’s eyes widened in amazement. “Did it really stop bleeding just because he was scared?”

  “It did. Fear can be a great medicine, you see, my wee hen.”

  George came down from the ranch house and crossed the yard to join them.

  “Your daughter tells me we’ll be having pork, Doctor Goodfellow,” Hector said, gleefully rubbing his hands. “A whole pig! The boys will like that and I can’t wait to get cooking pork for a change.”

  George raised an eyebrow at Edith. “Actually, it is not the whole pig, Hector, but you can have some of it.”

  “Some of it?” Hector repeated, his jolly round face showing his bemusement.

  “That’s right. I need most of it you see, and after I’ve used it I fear it won’t be fit for human consumption.”

  Hector took off his hat and scratched his bald head. “Sounds a waste of good food to me, Doctor, but you are the boss.”

  “That’s what I thought,” George said with a twinkle of amusement. “So go and get your butchery instruments and come over to the wagon. I’ll show you which parts you can take.”

  Hector watched him walk off and then smiled at Edith. “Is your father feeling all right, my wee hen? He’s not been working too hard, has he?”

  “Daddy always works too hard,” she replied with a grin. “But he’s not going to eat it all himself. It will be for an experiment.”

  Understanding dawned on Hector. “Of course. The Doctor and his science. That makes it as clear as mud to me, but at least the boys are getting some pork.”

  With which he scuttled off to get his butchery equipment.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon George and Edith rode out with Dan Legg to see the boys do some branding. George had told Dan that Edith was excited to see her brand being used, so Dan had arranged for three of the hands to work the north stretch along the banks of the San Pedro.

  “It is an honor having you with us, Miss Edith,” Dan said with a tip of his hat. “I’ve got the boys to show you how we rope and brand them.”

  Edith smiled and blushed. “That makes me feel very special, Mister Legg.”

  “And special you are, Miss Edith There aren’t too many young ladies who have their very own cattle brand.”

  Up ahead they spotted the men working in the scrub near the river bank. They rode up and stopped to watch the two mounted hands, and smelled the smoke of the fire where a third hand was taking the roped young calves and branding them with a hot iron.

  The three men worked as a team, two without leaving their saddles, the other on foot. One of the riders would chase a beast out of the scrub, then rope its head, drag it towards the fire so that it turned, while the other snared its pirouetting hind legs. Then the head roper, a lanky individual wearing a battered old Stetson, whistled. Upon this signal his comrade, a stocky bareheaded youngster backed up. In a moment the calf was stretched out, ready for the third hand, a cowhand with prodigious bowlegs, to leap forward to give the beast its hot tattoo.

  “We’re branding all the free calves, Dan explained to Edith. Ordinarily we’d do them in the spring, but the Doctor thought it woul
d be good for you to see just how it is done.”

  “Howdy, Miss Edith,” said the cowboy with the brand. “This the first time you’ve seen branding? Hope it hasn’t upset you none.”

  “Hello Mister Bendy,” Edith replied. “No it doesn’t upset me. My Daddy is a doctor and I’ve seen patients with far worse things than a brand. I think it looks pretty. GEG. That’s Edith inside Daddy’s initials of G.G. He told me that, even though the E could stand for Emory, his middle name.”

  The three hands had all chuckled at Edith’s use of his name, for ‘Bendy’ was typical southwestern humor, referring to his bowlegs, a result of a lifetime of riding and cattle punching.

  “Glad you like it, Miss Edith,” Bendy replied, releasing the calf to dash off into the scrub.

  George dismounted and strode over to the fire. He shoved his hands in his pockets and toed one of the branding irons. “Have we had any trouble with cattle going missing, boys?”

  “Not this past year, Doctor Goodfellow,” Dan replied, leaning on his saddle horn. “We did have some Apaches stealing a couple or so back then, but what with the fencing and us all keeping a good watch out, no sir, we’ve had no problems at all. And I guess that with Fort Huachuca being not too far away, we are not as troubled as the old Huachuca Cattle Company would have been. ”

  George took a deep sniff through his nose. “I love the air here in the Huachuca Mountains.” He pointed into the distance, towards pinewoods in the distance. “I’m going to be going over there tomorrow afternoon, Dan. I’ll need to be on my own, so tell the rest of the boys to stay clear, will you?”

  “I will do, Doctor Goodfellow.”

  “I’ll need to take my wagon. And don’t any of you worry if you hear shooting. There’s no reason to hightail it over. It’ll be me.”

  “Practicing shooting or hunting, Doctor Goodfellow?” Bendy asked.

  “Nope! Neither of those. Just need to be by myself,” George said cryptically, as he returned to his horse and mounted up. “Come on Dan, let’s take Edith on a proper look around.”

  And without another word he set off.