“What are you lookin’ at, boy?. Major Canton’s wrath turned on me. “You got something to say. This is no affair of yours. Get out of here. Get out of my camp.. It was like he didn’t know me from Adam’s house cat. But then recognition suddenly struck him, and he blinked, but he didn’t curb his tongue. “It’s past midnight. We had a cold camp, no coffee, no supper, thanks to you. What kept you in town. What are you doin’ drivin’ that chuck wagon. Where’s Larry?”
I’d been holding back the river for so long, but now the dam broke. “He’s in the back,” I said, feeling my tears explode, feeling the whole world collapse.
Next, I was beside the mules, trembling and exhausted all at the same time. My head shook silently.
Spurs chimed as Major Canton moved past me. I heard him climb into the driver’s box, and peer inside the wagon. Heard him strike a match. Heard Tommy begin to whimper. Then heard the major mutter an oath.
* * * * *
We wrapped Larry McNab in his sougans. By dawn, Mr. Justus and André Le Fevre returned from town, and Fenton Larue and Phineas O’Connor were back from night herding. Perry Hopkins wasn’t back yet. Deep down, I wished he wouldn’t ride back, but take off to Texas, like he said he wanted to do.
“What happened?” Major Canton asked me for the umpteenth time.
I didn’t answer.
“You were there, weren’t you, Madison?” Mr. Justus said, his voice much more consoling that the major’s.
“We split up. He wanted to have a drink with the Thompsons. I took ... I went ... I ... I ....”
Hoofs sounded and spurs jingled, and I made myself look up as Perry reined in his buckskin.
“Perry,” Fenton Larue called out, “Larry’s been killed!”
“I know.. Perry slowly dismounted, wrapping the reins around the wagon tongue. “Why don’t you tell them what happened, Mad Carter. Or should I call you Deputy Lawdog MacRae?”
I didn’t see Major Canton’s hands, he moved so fast. Barely felt him grip my shirt front and jerk me to my feet. His hot breath felt like flames, but scented with the rye he had been drinking since he’d pulled Larry McNab out of the Studebaker. “You tell me what this is all about, boy?” Major Canton said. “Tell me now before I hide you like you never been hided before.”
“I can’t ..... Next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground, tasting blood from a split lip. The major reached down to pull me up again, just as he had done while beating his son, but Mr. Justus put his hand on the ramrod’s shoulder. Then June Justus was lying beside me, slowly pulling himself into a seated position, staring up at Major Luke Canton with a look that seemed to ask: Who are you?
That seemed to bring the major back to his senses. He shuddered, shook his head, blinking rapidly, and moved over, extending his hand, helping Mr. Justus to his feet, then brushing the dust off his backside with his hat.
No one spoke for the longest time. The major, he didn’t apologize, and Mr. Justus didn’t fire him. They looked at me, but then the major faced Perry.
“I’m waitin’,” he said.
The way Perry told the story, Larry had shown up at the Gamblers’ Roost, where Ben Thompson was gambling. The Thompson brothers and Larry had a few drinks, then roamed about Nauchville from saloon to saloon. Billy and Ben decided to pay a visit to some ladies of the tenderloin, but Larry said he’d best get back to camp. So he staggered on back toward Ellsworth. The next thing the Thompson boys heard was Happy Jack Morco’s cuss.
“By the time they got there,” Perry said, “Larry McNab was on the ground, being kicked and kicked by Morco and that other deputy, one of them other Jacks.”
“You didn’t see this, though?” Mr. Justus asked.
“I saw enough. Saw them kickin’ him. Saw Morco holsterin’ that big pistol he’d used to stove in Larry’s skull. A whole slew of us had gathered around. The Thompsons pulled their guns, and those murderin’ laws took off and hid in the Lone Star Saloon. We chased after them. It was a stand-off, and then that sheriff, the one who rode with us to town, he shows up. And then ... Deputy Mad Carter MacRae arrives with a sawed-off shotgun. Larry’s shotgun. He helped get those murderers from us, usin’ the double-barrel that belonged to the guy those vermin murdered.”
Every eye in camp turned on me, and nary a one was kindly or sympathetic.
Shaking my head, I spoke in a whisper: “I didn’t know it was Larry. I swear.. I tried to think of something else to say, but what else could I say. Explain that I had sided with a Kansas peace officer over fellow Texas cowboys. That I was a turncoat. A Yankee lover. A Judas Iscariot?
“Mount up, boys,” the major said. “We’re takin’ Ellsworth.”
“You’re not going anywhere, Luke.. Mr. Justus stood his ground, even though he wore no gun. “Everybody stays put. I’ll ride into town. The men who killed Larry are in jail. Isn’t that right, Madison?. I didn’t answer, but Mr. Justus kept talking as if I had. “They’ll stay there. We’ll let the law handle this. Anyone rides to town today, he’s fired. And that includes you, Luke.”
He moved to me, extended his hand, pulled me to my feet, dusted me off the way the major had done for him, and gave me a rag for my busted lips.
“You didn’t know, Madison,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. “You did what the sheriff asked you to do. Which is what anyone with any grit would have done. It’s not your fault.. He turned to face our crew. “Is it, Perry?”
Perry Hopkins shuffled his feet, stared at the dust he had kicked up, and mumbled: “I reckon not.. He looked at me, took in a deep breath, and let it out as he crossed over to me. I didn’t know what to expect. I half figured he’d knock my teeth down my throat, then light into Mr. Justus. But he extended his hand, and shook mine. “I’m sorry, Madison. I didn’t know.”
“Well, ain’t this just dandy,” the major said. That wasn’t like him at all. Speaking sarcastically, pushing Mr. Justus to his limit. “Those badge-wearers beat one of my men half to death, and kill another, and everybody in this camp don’t think twice about it. Just let the law handle it. Kansas law. Yankee law. I’m ridin’ to town, June. Fire me if you want.”
Mr. Justus stared at the major for what seemed an eternity.
“We’re burying Larry McNab, Luke,” he said finally. “I’m reading over his grave. You do what you think right.”
* * * * *
“I reckon this is the way Larry McNab would have wanted it,” the major said. “Not to be planted in some town cemetery, but out here, where cattle graze. Now, I warrant that if Larry had his druthers, he’d be restin’ along the trail down in Texas, not in Kansas, but we don’t have much of a say as to where and when we’re called to Glory.”
Major Canton looked at the crowd, and I mean it was a crowd. Every cowboy from every camp on that rolling prairie had come to pay their respects. Most of them were armed. Not a black coat or black tie amongst the whole bunch. I suspect they figured they’d be burning Ellsworth like Quantrill torched Lawrence back during the war. K.P. Chesser was there. So were Olive, Mabry, Shumate, Cad Pierce, no relation to Shanghai Pierce, who came, too. All of them expected the major to put an “Amen” to this funeral and get to the business at hand.
Only Luke Canton shook his head, and smiled. “I know,” he said, “that Larry never would have expected this many people to show up to see him buried. I also know that it stands to reason that none of you ever tasted his chow. Or you wouldn’t be here.”
Laughter filled the prairie. Even Phineas O’Connor grinned.
“Or maybe you have,” the major said, “like all us pitiful riders, and you’re just glad to see that he’s no longer boilin’ coffee or ruinin’ beans.”
We howled, and the major set his hat on his head.
“Let’s file back to camp, friends, and have a drink to Larry McNab, the worst cook Texas ever had, but one of the best men we’ll ever see.”
/>
* * * * *
They took a collection back at our camp. I think every cowboy there put in something, even if it was an I.O.U. Shanghai Pierce sent a couple wagons to town, since we didn’t have anywhere near enough food to feed that many men, but they didn’t return with steaks or potatoes, just kegs of beer. All on Shanghai Pierce’s dime.
Like an Irish wake, I reckon, only we’d already buried Larry. By evening, of course, everyone had returned to their own camps, to herding their own cattle, and a quiet loneliness settled over our spot.
I was rubbing down the horses in the remuda when Major Canton came to me.
“We collected more than three hundred dollars,” he said. “For Larry’s next of kin.”
Not knowing what to say, I nodded. I’d put every last penny in a hat myself, leftovers from the wad Le Fevre had given me.
“Larry had no kin,” Major Canton said. “None we know of, that is. I told June that I thought it’d be fittin’ if he gave that money to your ma.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. My mouth dropped open.
“You were like a son to Larry, and he always held your mother in high regard. You know that, don’t you?”
My head bobbed.
“I think every mother’s son in this camp thinks something special of you. Because you’re a special boy. Perry Hopkins thinks of you like you’re his kid brother. He didn’t mean nothin’ after that ruction. Tempers .... Well, Larry was special, too. Tommy, he ..... Quickly he looked away, turning back after a moment. He shook his head, and said: “Well, I’ve always thought of you like my son, too. I’ll keep this money. Give it to your ma when we get back to Texas, if ever we get back. I wish to Sam Hill that June would just sell this herd, not wait on any Chicago Yankee, believin’ false promises.. He sucked in a deep breath, blew it out, the smell of whiskey powerful strong, turned on his heel, and ducked underneath the lariat we’d strung up as a fence of some sort.
That was the closest the major could come to apologizing. On the other hand, I didn’t really think I deserved any sympathy or apology.
I wondered what the major, or anybody else in our crew, would think of me if the law didn’t punish Happy Jack Morco and High Low Jack Branham.
chapter
21
As you might expect, Ellsworth law wasn’t Texas law. Oh, the good citizens of Ellsworth convened a coroner’s inquest, even brought the two deputy marshals before a grand jury. Don’t ask me who testified or what anybody said. We’ll never know, at least not in this lifetime. The newspaper printed a few articles about Larry McNab’s killing, even wrote an editorial that lashed out against the rough-handed town marshal and his deputies.
We had hoped for a quick hanging. Instead, “no billed” was the word brought back to camp.
“You satisfied now, MacRae?” Phineas snapped at me after Mr. Justus explained to him what no billed truly meant.
“Shut up.. That came, to my surprise, from Perry Hopkins. “Leave him alone. He didn’t kill Larry.”
“Men,” Mr. Justus said, “those murderers will pay for their crime. Somewhere down the line, they will pay, even if we must wait for justice till Judgment Day.”
“How come they get to go free now?” Fenton Larue asked.
Mr. Justus only sighed. “Morco said Larry resisted arrest. Said he assaulted him. Deputy Branham testified the same, or so the town lawyer told me.”
“What a pack of falsehoods,” Phineas said.
“Well, the grand jury believed them.”
Everybody cussed Kansans, except Mr. Justus, naturally, and me. I figured it best to say nothing. Phineas was already mad at me again, and he had healed enough to want to start a ruction with anyone who crossed him.
It was August 6th when we got word of the grand jury’s decision. By then, Morco and Branham were back patrolling the streets of Ellsworth, dishing out their own laws, and tempers boiled over in cow camps and down in Nauchville.
I hadn’t been to town since the night Larry had been killed, and Mr. Justus told me I should stay in camp. Especially on that night. It wasn’t safe for me in town. Not only from those buffaloing John Laws, but from other Texians. Once again I felt like Judas. Only I hadn’t even been paid thirty in silver.
“Let him go!” Major Canton called out, after spitting out the coffee Phineas had brewed. “You cook worse than Larry,” he told O’Connor.
Phineas muttered something underneath his breath.
“You think that’s wise, Luke?” Mr. Justus asked.
“If MacCrea wants to go, let him go. You want to go, Mad Carter?”
Something had changed about the major, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. He had turned moody. I mean one minute he acted normal, and the next he was angrier than a hornet. Anything might set him off. “He’s notional,” Fenton Larue had said a few evenings earlier when the major had sworn a blue streak at Fenton for something he’d apparently done wrong.
“Notional?. Perry Hopkins had laughed. “He’s nitroglycerine.”
I didn’t want to go to town, but I needed to see Estrella. I hadn’t seen her since she’d kissed me, since the night Larry had been .... I shook away that terrible memory. It wasn’t her sweet lips, her company, anything like that that I missed, although I missed everything about her. It was just that I could talk to her. Felt like I could, anyhow. And I really needed to talk to her. To someone who might understand all those emotions boiling up inside me, tormenting me.
So there I was, cleaning Sad Sarah’s hoofs with a pick, when Le Fevre showed up.
“Goin’ to town?” he asked.
Where else would I be going. And he certainly wasn’t riding with me.
“Well, kid,” he said, and his voice wasn’t anywhere near the same as when he’d horned in on my supper with Estrella back at the Drovers Cottage. “I loaned you twenty-eight dollars.”
“I’ll pay you back,” I said.
“Yeah. You will. By night herdin’ for me tonight while I ride into town. But I’ll make it easy on you. Instead of one dollar off what you owe me, I’ll make that two. Because I’m a generous man.”
Turning, I glared. I wanted to take that pick and ram it into his neck, but he was wearing a gun belt, and I wasn’t. My mouth opened, but, before I could cuss him or fight him, he said: “Now, I’d watch what I say. Or I might not be so generous.”
When you deal with the devil, you pay the price. I should have washed dishes for a week to pay for that meal I’d had at the Drovers with Estrella. Instead, I herded for Le Fevre that night, and the next night, and on and on. Reckon I still owed him a right smart of money, but, on August 12th, I finally rode back into Ellsworth.
This time, Le Fevre couldn’t rein me in. He was already in town, and Perry and Phineas were charged with looking after our cattle. But I had company—Fenton Larue and Tommy Canton. And I had orders.
“You boys stay clear of Nauchville,” Major Canton said, and June Justus backed those instructions with a firm nod. “You hear?”
* * * * *
As soon as we hit town, Fenton rode over to the stockyards. He loved watching them load cattle onto the boxcars. Tommy stared at me the longest while.
“Nauchville?” he asked eagerly.
“No!”
“Aw, come on.”
I pulled the dove’s name from the recesses of my brain. “You just want to see Bertha.”
“Don’t you say that!” Tommy roared, almost as temperamental as his pa. “I don’t want to see nobody, especially no ....”
“All right. But we aren’t going to Nauchville.”
“It’s what that hard-rock Luke Canton said, ain’t it?” Tommy bellowed, bringing his roan closer to Sad Sarah. His eyes flamed with anger, and one of those eyes was just losing the bruise his pa had given him. “Hang me if I didn’t get saddled with the meanest father in all perditio
n.”
“At least you have a pa,” I told him, suddenly thinking of mine, who was buried some place in Virginia.
Tommy whipped his hat off, slapped his thigh, startling his horse a mite, but he was too good a rider to lose his seat. “Pa told me you said we split up, Mad Carter. Back on the night of the Kitty Leroy dance. You promised ....”
Was that why Major Canton had beaten Tommy the night Larry McNab had been killed. That certainly didn’t seem reason enough for the whipping I’d witnessed Tommy getting.
“I didn’t say that,” I said. “All I said was that you rode to Nauchville ahead of me. He doesn’t know you took that gal to see that dancer, and that I didn’t go. If he does, he didn’t learn it from me. I didn’t say a thing to him about Bertha.”
“Don’t say that name. She ain’t nothin’ to me. Nothin’ but a ....”
I kicked Sad Sarah into a trot, riding away from that hothead, but he caught up with me.
“Well?”
“Well what?” I fired back.
He sighed. “Where do you want to go?. He was getting as temperamental as his pa.
I had no choice. I didn’t answer, just weaved my way through the streets, heading to the Star Mercantile.
It was closing time. I knew that. I nudged Sad Sarah near the hitching rail, and Tommy eased his horse to my right. The door opened, and Estrella called out something to her father. But when she turned, beaming, she lost that happy look on her face when she spotted me.
“Oh ... hello.”
I removed my hat. Tommy whistled.
“Mad Carter,” he said, sniggering, “you been holdin’ out on us.”
“Shut up.. I put my hat back on. “Hi.. It was all I could think to say.
“Hi.. It was all she could say.
Boots sounded down the alley, and then my stomach turned over. André Le Fevre appeared, hat in hand, running his fingers through his sweaty hair. He stepped onto the boardwalk, and said: “You ready, Star?”
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