Lee (The Landon Saga Book 6)

by Tell Cotten

  I nodded and headed for the hotel.

  Chapter four

  Ike Nash ate breakfast as he usually did, sitting behind his desk in his study.

  It was an impressive room, and it was also where Ike spent most of his time. There was a fireplace, and there was also the smell of cigar smoke in the air.

  Ike’s ranch was roughly five miles south of town, and Ike was proud of the place.

  The headquarters was in a meadow, beside a stream. The pole pens, bunkhouse, and main house were all new and well built.

  Ike was a big, solid man. Deep voiced, wide shouldered, and tall, he had a commanding presence that made most folks uncomfortable.

  He was also very good with a Colt. However, he kept this to himself, and even Butch, his right hand man, didn’t know how good he really was.

  Ike took a swig of coffee and leaned back in his chair. There was a noise by the door, and Butch Nelson appeared.

  Butch was a plain-looking man. Short with a broad face, he looked more like a storekeeper.

  But he was far from that. He was very good with a Colt, and he displayed one on his hip. However, even with the Colt, there was still nothing that really stood out. And, that’s exactly how Butch preferred it.

  “Morning, Ike.”

  “Butch.”

  “There’s news from town. I thought you’d be interested.”

  “What is it?” Ike raised an eyebrow.

  “Rondo Landon got married. He’s gone to San Antonio on a honeymoon.”

  Ike grunted in displeasure.

  “Well, I hope he enjoys himself.”

  “Do you still hold a grudge against him regarding Tanner?”

  “I do,” Ike nodded, and asked, “Is there anything else?”

  “Yes. Lee Mattingly’s hotel is opening tonight.”

  “Well now. That’s interesting,” Ike looked intrigued. “Where’s that gambler we sent for?”

  “He should be here any day now.”

  “How about the other man. What’s his name?”

  “Amos,” Butch said, and added, “He’s right where we want him.”

  “Are you sure he’s good enough?”

  “He came highly recommended. He’s good at what he does.”

  “He’d better be,” Ike declared. It was silent, and he added, “Interesting, Lee’s hotel opening tonight, and Rondo isn’t here.”

  “I found that interesting too.”

  “Perhaps some of the men should pay the hotel a visit tonight,” Ike suggested. “I want to see how prepared Lee is.”

  “Want me to go along?”

  “No, I don’t want you involved. Tell Brock to go. He’ll like that.”

  “I’ll tell him,” Butch said, and he walked towards the door.

  “Butch,” Ike called out.

  “Yes?” Butch paused at the doorway.

  “Tell Brock not to get too rough. After all, I’m going to own that hotel before long.”

  “Yes, sir,” Butch said, and then he was gone.

  Ike grunted in satisfaction. He took a swig of coffee and returned to his breakfast.

  Chapter five

  I walked back to the hotel.

  Brian was still meeting with the hotel employees. I motioned at him, and he nodded. I stayed in the back until he had finished.

  “Is there anything else you need to add?” Brian looked at me.

  “As a matter of fact, there is,” I said, and I walked up front and stood beside Brian.

  The room was quiet, and everyone watched me. I had never talked much, and everybody looked curious. I smiled at them and cleared my throat.

  “Can anybody here shoot?”

  They glanced uncertainly at each other and looked back at me.

  “We ain’t gunfighters,” one of them said.

  “I can tell that,” I smiled patiently. “But can anybody shoot?”

  “Shoot what?” The same person asked.

  “Possible troublemakers.”

  “You expecting trouble?”

  “No, but I want to be prepared for it.”

  The speaker was tall, muscular, and red headed. Nobody else said anything, so he took charge.

  “I think I speak for everyone when I say I didn’t hire on to shoot folks,” he said, and everybody else nodded. “We ain’t like you,” he added.

  “And what am I?” I frowned.

  “You know. A gunfighter.”

  “Is that all you think I am?”

  “You’ve helped several undertakers pay their bills,” he declared.

  It was silent as I thought on that, and I nodded slowly.

  “Yes, I reckon I have,” I admitted.

  “If you’re worried about trouble, perhaps you should have hired a few gunmen like yourself,” the red headed man suggested, and added, “It’s unfair to ask us common folks to defend your hotel. We aren’t killers like you.”

  “What’s your name?” I narrowed my eyes.

  “Amos. Amos Gregg.”

  “I get the feeling, Amos, that you don’t like me.”

  “I don’t dislike you. I just know what you are.”

  “What I am-,” I paused for effect, “-is your boss. I’d like you to remember that.”

  “Oh, I’ll remember.”

  It fell silent as Amos and I stared at each other. A few awkward seconds passed, and I looked around at everybody else. They all dropped their eyes when I made eye contact.

  “This was a good talk,” I said wryly, and then I glanced at Brian. “I’ll be in the office if you need me.”

  Nobody said a word as I left.

  Chapter six

  I sat behind my desk and grabbed a cigar. I trimmed it carefully, and Brian Clark entered the room as I lit it and took a deep puff.

  “What was that all about?” Brian asked me.

  I didn’t reply. I took in a big breath and let it out slowly, and my faced was pinched in thought.

  “You there?” Brian looked at me strangely.

  “Sorry,” I said as I recovered. “I was deep in thought.”

  “I didn’t know you were such a thinker.”

  “Only as a last resort.”

  “What were you thinking about?”

  “Amos,” I said. “He sure speaks his mind.”

  “So do you,” Brian pointed out.

  “True, but I usually make sense.”

  “All of our employees are worried now.”

  “Worried about what?”

  “Worried they’re going to get shot at,” Brian explained. “Amos is still talking out there.”

  “I don’t like Amos,” I announced. “Mebbe we should fire him.”

  “For what?” Brian looked surprised.

  “I just told you I don’t like him.”

  “We can’t fire him because of that,” Brian objected.

  “Why not?”

  “The rest of the men look up to him. Amos goes, and they might all leave.”

  I sighed as I thought on that.

  “This boss thing is more complicated than I thought,” I complained.

  “You just focus on poker and leave the men to me,” Brian instructed. “And, from here on out, just come to me with any concerns you have. I’ll handle it.”

  I scowled.

  “So, in other words, you want me to be more like Yancy and keep quiet.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Why’s everybody so scared of me?” I wanted to know.

  “Your reputation might have something to do with it,” Brian suggested.

  I grunted and shook my head.

  “A bunch of school boys would be tougher than that bunch out there. First mention of trouble and they’re already looking for a place to hide.”

  “Labor is scarce in these parts,” Brian reminded. “I had to take what I could find.”

  I grunted again, and it fell silent.

  “Why the sudden worry?” Brian asked.

  “Ross mentioned Ike Nash.”

  A thoughtful lo
ok crossed Brian’s face.

  “You think he’d cause trouble?”

  “I doubt it, but it is a possibility.”

  “Then don’t you think we’d better get prepared?” Brian looked concerned.

  “That’s what I was trying to do,” I frowned, and then I scratched my jaw in thought. “If there is any trouble, it’s probably just going to be you, me, and Ross.”

  “Probably so.”

  “Well then. I reckon we’re about as prepared as we can get.”

  “There’d better not be too much trouble. We can’t afford it,” Brian warned.

  “What do you mean?” I narrowed my eyes.

  Brian gestured at the safe that was behind me in the corner.

  “Have you looked in there lately?”

  “No,” I admitted.

  “We’ve been squeezing dimes to get dollars these past few weeks, and now we barely have any pennies left,” Brian informed. “We have just enough for payroll. All the money from Jessica is gone.”

  “What happened to the dimes?”

  “You’ll be playing poker with them,” Brian retorted, and added, “We’ll be all right once we get some money coming in, but be careful tonight. You lose big, and we won’t be able to cover it.”

  “What if I’m rusty?” I objected.

  “Don’t be.”

  I frowned as Brian walked towards the door.

  “I’d better make sure nobody quit,” he said. “See you later.”

  “I’m sorry if I caused any trouble,” I called out after him. “I reckon I’m just getting irritable.”

  “Getting?” Brian smiled, and I scowled as he walked out.

  Chapter seven

  The biggest challenge in running a restaurant was finding fresh beef. We made a deal with Mr. Tomlin for a steady supply, and we hired our own butcher and built a butcher block out back. We also built a corral where we could keep our steers.

  Brian Clark rode out that afternoon to pick up more steers, and I stayed in the office and practiced handling and shuffling a deck of cards.

  It was midafternoon when the door knocked, and in stepped Amos Gregg.

  “Boss,” he said. “There’s a lady and a kid out here wanting to see you.”

  “Oh?” I asked curiously. “Who is it?”

  “She didn’t say. They just arrived on the stage.”

  “All right. Show her in,” I said.

  Amos nodded and turned to go, but then he stopped.

  “I’m sorry about earlier,” he said. “I have a bad habit of speaking my mind.”

  “I noticed that.”

  “Well, like I said, I’m sorry.”

  “No you’re not,” I smiled, and added, “You can bring the lady in now.”

  Amos frowned, but he didn’t say anything as he turned and walked out.

  There was only one lady I thought it would be, and I was excited to see her. My only confusion was why she was here, and who the kid was.

  I disposed of my cigar, hastily cleaned off my desk, and sat up straight in my chair and tried to look important.

  Seconds later the door opened, and in walked a lady and a small child.

  To my surprise, the lady was not Jessica. She was a tall, graceful looking woman with tired eyes and a wisp of natural gray hair here and there. It was hard to tell, but I guessed her to be in her early thirties.

  As for the child, she was probably around nine or ten. She had long blond hair, and she also had the cutest face I had ever seen.

  Her round, blue eyes stared straight into mine. It was a piercing look, and I couldn’t help but stare back.

  They were both clean and well groomed, but their clothes were worn, and they were very slim. I knew at first glance that they had very little money.

  I was startled, and several awkward seconds passed before I cleared my throat.

  “You wanted to see me, ma’am?”

  The woman spoke with a clear, distinguished voice. She sounded tired but also proud.

  “You are Lee Mattingly,” she said, and it sounded more like a statement than a question.

  “That’s me.”

  “I am April Gibson, and this is my daughter June.”

  “Where’s May?” I made a weak attempt at humor.

  “She died last month.”

  My face turned somber.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t feel bad. You didn’t know,” she said.

  I nodded and looked at June, and she was still staring at me through round and very solemn eyes. I swallowed and looked back at April Gibson.

  “Do I know you, ma’am?”

  “No, we’ve never met,” she said. “But of course, I know who you are.”

  I smiled and nodded, and then a thoughtful look crossed my face as I studied her.

  “You do look sorta familiar.”

  “You might have seen me in Midway. That’s where we’re from.”

  “And you rode the stage all the way here?”

  “Yes, we just arrived a while ago.”

  I nodded, and it was silent for several long seconds.

  “So, what can I do for you, ma’am?” I finally asked.

  “I need a job. I was hoping you would give me one.”

  “To do what?” I asked, confused.

  “I can wash dishes, mop floors, do laundry, clean the rooms; anything,” she said. It was silent, and she added sternly, “Almost anything.”

  I smiled faintly.

  “I don’t mean to intrude, but where’s your husband?”

  “He’s dead,” she said, and her voice shook a little.

  “Oh?” I asked, startled. “What happened to him?”

  “My husband was a shotgun rider for the stage line in Midway,” she explained. “He was killed last year when Cliff Curtis and his men held up the stage. Yancy Landon told me later that it was Stew Baine that actually shot him.”

  I nodded thoughtfully as I remember back.

  “Your husband was Sam Gibson.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I wasn’t there, but I heard about it,” I said. “Stew also killed the driver.”

  April didn’t say anything. Instead her face turned soft and sad with the memory of an old pain.

  “But I was there-,” I tried to be helpful, “-when Stew Baine was killed.”

  April didn’t say anything. Instead, she just nodded.

  “So, what made you leave Midway?” I prodded for more information.

  “After Sam was killed, Yancy helped me find odd jobs around town,” she said. “It was tough going, but we made it.”

  “That’s sounds like Yancy.”

  “But then May got sick and died last month-,” April paused as tears came to her eyes, “-and we just couldn’t stay there anymore. I sold our house, got on the stage, and came here.”

  “And why did you choose this town?”

  “Yancy and Cooper were real nice to me, and they helped me a lot,” she said. “I knew their cousin Rondo was here, and I had hoped that he would be able to find me some work. But he’s not here, and then I heard that you owned this hotel.”

  I nodded slowly as I thought on that.

  “You’d be the only woman employee,” I warned.

  “I’m fine with that.”

  I scratched my jaw. It was very silent, and April’s face remained emotionless.

  June was still staring at me, and I made the mistake of looking at her. Her piercing eyes made me fidgety.

  “All right,” I said as I looked back at April. “See Brian Clark when he gets back. He’ll find you something to do.”

  A small smile appeared on her face, but it disappeared just as fast.

  “Thank you very much, Mr. Mattingly,” she said.

  “The name’s Lee.”

  “Yes, sir. I mean, Lee.”

  I nodded and smiled. I waited for them to leave, but they just stood there.

  “Is there anything else?” I finally asked.

  “We have no
where to stay,” she explained, and added quietly, “We don’t have much money.”

  “I see,” I said thoughtfully, and then I sighed. “All right. You can live upstairs. Brian Clark and I share the corner room, and you can have the room next to ours.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Lee,” I corrected.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and blushed slightly. “Thank you again, Lee.”

  “No problem.”

  April nodded and turned towards the door while I grabbed my deck of cards.

  I still felt a pair of eyes on me. I looked up, and June hadn’t moved. She was still staring at me through those round and solemn eyes.

  “Mister Lee,” she said suddenly, and her voice was very soft and clear.

  “Yes?” I said, startled.

  “Thank you for giving Ma a job,” she said, and then she turned abruptly and followed her mother out the door.

  I sat there for a long time in stunned silence.

  “You’re welcome,” I finally said to an empty room.

  Chapter eight

  Brian Clark burst into the office a couple of hours later.

  “Amos told me you just hired a woman,” he said gruffly.

  “That’s right,” I confirmed.

  “I just told you we can barely meet payroll,” he objected. “We can’t afford anybody else.”

  “They have no place else to go,” I protested. “And, that ain’t all. Wait until you meet June. The way she stared at me, it felt like she was looking into my soul.”

  Brian snorted.

  “They can’t stay here, Lee.”

  “Have you met them yet?”

  “No. They’re upstairs, getting settled in a room that we won’t be able to rent out now.”

  “Go meet them,” I suggested. “And then, if you still want them to leave, get rid of them.”

  “I’ll do that,” Brian declared, and he turned and stormed out.

  I smiled and waited patiently. A few minutes passed, and Brian returned to the office. He looked sullen and somber.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “I’ll find something for her to do,” he muttered.

  “June stared at you too, eh?”

  “She did,” Brian admitted.

  I didn’t reply. Instead, I just smiled.