Will stood gazing at the ridge for a while before deciding that Cheney intended to continue toward the west, probably to Fort Worth, the town where Shorty figured Cheney had been selling his stolen cattle. It would appear that the J-Bar-J had seen the last of Ike Cheney, a fact that Will still had difficulty accepting. He had evidently misjudged the depth of the old outlaw’s desire for vengeance. Ike and what was left of his family could now be a problem for the Texas Rangers, as far as Will was concerned, and they were welcome to them. My business is in Oklahoma Territory, he thought, and I’d best get back to Fort Smith to see if I’ve still got a job.
Back in the saddle, he returned to the shack on Kettle Creek and stopped there to rest Buster and make himself some coffee. Figuring to get back to the J-Bar-J by nightfall, he planned to spend one more night at the ranch before starting back to Fort Smith. There was no further need for him at the ranch, but it had been fortunate that he had happened to come when he did. He could still see Slim’s face, wide-eyed and white as a sheet, as he stood facing Buck Cheney. Things work out like they’re supposed to, he thought, and Slim Rogers damn sure wasn’t supposed to die at the hands of a no-good killer like Buck Cheney. For no particular reason, a stray thought of Sophie Bennett crossed his mind suddenly. How long is it until Christmas? he wondered. She had said that Christmas was when she and Garth Pearson were to be married. Somehow, that didn’t seem to be the way things were meant to be for Sophie. She and the young law clerk just didn’t strike him as a good fit. It always seemed to trouble him whenever he thought about Sophie, so he wondered why she popped into his mind so often. Maybe, he thought, after she finally marries that law clerk, I won’t be thinking about her at all.
* * *
As he had anticipated, he got back to the J-Bar-J in time to get some supper. He heard Anna banging on the angle iron just as he rode into the barnyard. Cal Perkins walked out of the barn on his way to the supper table and paused when he saw Will ride in. Anxious to find out what had happened in town, Cal hurried to meet him. “Did you see ’em?” he asked, referring to the old man and Rubin. “Billy came back and said you told him you didn’t want no help. Shorty already said a couple of us oughta get ready to ride in if you didn’t show up back here by tonight. He said you mighta had more’n you could handle. Did you get ’em?”
When Cal finally paused to take a breath, Will answered him. “No, I didn’t. I rode out to Kettle Creek this mornin’ and they had cleared out. I expect they decided to practice their brand of mischief somewhere else.”
Cal helped him take care of Buster, then they walked up to the house to find the rest of the crew already around the table. Will couldn’t help noticing a look of relief in Shorty’s face when they walked in.
While polishing off a plate of Anna’s beef stew, Will told them about his introduction to Hannah Cheney and the trip out to the line shack at Kettle Creek. “They left a wagon out there,” he said. “I didn’t see anything wrong with it, so you might wanna take a couple of horses out there and pick it up.”
“Maybe they figured they owed us somethin’ for all the cows they stole,” Slim said.
“Then I reckon they shoulda left it full of money,” Shorty said. “You didn’t see any money in it, did you, Will?”
“Yeah,” Will answered. “I put that in my pocket.”
The mood was obviously light and easy, decidedly different from what Will had met when he had first ridden in. All hands were looking forward to returning to a normal work schedule, with only one unlucky soul riding night herd.
CHAPTER 7
A light snow began to fall in the early evening of the fourth full day of riding since he left the J-Bar-J. Will had been expecting it to start, because the skies had been threatening for the past couple of hours. Now as he rode along beside the Poteau River just short of its confluence with the Arkansas at Belle Point, the weather was no longer a concern. His horses were tired, but they would soon be resting in the stable at Fort Smith. However, he would not make it back to the boardinghouse in time for supper, and he felt he could really enjoy a good meal right about now. That thought was enough to cause him to ask Buster to increase his pace to a fast walk. The big buckskin willingly obliged and maintained the pace until reaching the stables on the south end of Fort Smith.
“Hey-yo, Will,” Vern Tuttle called out when he saw Will ride in and dismount. “I was wonderin’ when you’d be showin’ up again.”
“Howdy, Vern,” Will returned. “Looks like I just beat the weather in.”
“Yeah, it’s been wantin’ to snow for the last two days,” Vern said. “I reckon it was just waitin’ for Christmas.”
“Maybe so,” Will allowed, but had to stop and think about it. He had lost track of the days while he was down in Texas.
“They’re both gonna need a ration of oats.” He pulled his saddlebags off and drew his rifle from the saddle before carrying it to the tack room. After packing away what supplies he had left in the small room he rented for that purpose, he bade Vern a good night and started toward Bennett House. Had it been a little earlier in the day, he would have reported to Dan Stone, but the marshal had most likely gone home by now. He would see him in the morning.
There was a horse and buggy tied up in front of Ruth Bennett’s boardinghouse, one of Vern Tuttle’s fancy rigs, Will figured. He heard a lively conversation coming from the parlor even before he stepped up on the porch. So he paused for a moment, about to decide to walk around the house and use the kitchen door, when the front door opened and Garth Pearson came out. “Oops,” Garth uttered. “I almost ran right into you, Will. I was just going to get something from the buggy.”
Oops? Will repeated silently to himself sarcastically, then turned to leave the porch. “Sorry. Looks like I was about to walk in on a party.”
“Oh no,” Garth replied. “There’s no party. Please come on in. I’d like you to meet my folks. They got in yesterday from Little Rock, and I know they’d like to meet you.”
What for? Will thought. To Garth, he said, “I ain’t in too good a shape to be meetin’ anybody. I need to wash up and shave, else I might frighten your folks.”
“Nonsense,” Garth protested. “They know what kind of man you are. Sophie has told them about your being a deputy and all. I know the judge, my father, would like to meet you.”
Will held back. He just hadn’t been able to bring himself to the point where he could stand Garth Pearson. And he really had no reason for it. Maybe it was because Garth worked as a clerk for Judge Parker, and couldn’t saddle a horse if his life depended on it. If he was honest about it, he could admit that he resented Garth simply because Sophie wanted to marry him. There was no other reason. “Maybe later, when I’m a little more respectable,” Will said.
“I insist,” Garth said, and opened the door again. “Hey, everybody, Will’s back.”
Sophie looked up immediately. “Well, what’s he standing out there for? Both of you come in and close that door. You’re letting all the cold air in.” To keep from looking totally foolish, Will decided he had no choice but to go on inside. It didn’t help when Sophie gave him a critical looking-over and remarked, “My goodness, you look like you’ve been living in a briar patch somewhere. Where were you? We thought you were only going to be gone for a few days. I see you lost your razor.”
“I was in Texas,” Will answered, rubbing his scraggly beard. “I was on my way to clean up when Garth grabbed me.” It seemed that she was going out of her way to embarrass him, and yet there was a wide smile on her face as if beaming with pride. He looked around the room at the small group gathered there. The distinguished-looking gentleman seated beside the lady on the settee was Garth’s father. There was no mistaking the resemblance. Ruth Bennett sat on a straight-backed chair in the corner, smiling warmly at Will. One of her longtime boarders, old Leonard Dickens, sat enjoying the party in the corner opposite her.
Ruth got up from her chair and took Will by the arm. “I want you to meet Garth�
�s parents, Will. Judge Pearson, this is Will Tanner, one of our regular guests.”
“Glad to meet you, Will,” Judge Pearson said as he got up and extended his hand. “We’ve heard a lot about you in Little Rock. This is my wife, Anne, Garth’s mother.”
Will shifted his Winchester to his other hand and grasped Pearson’s, wondering how they could have heard of him in Little Rock. “Pleased to meet you, sir,” he said, then nodded to the judge’s wife. “Ma’am.” She said nothing, but favored him with a polite smile. He turned to Ruth and apologized for his appearance. “I’d best go and get myself cleaned up.” He nodded once more to Judge Pearson, then started for the stairs.
Ruth caught his arm again. “I’ll bet you haven’t had any supper,” she said. “There’s still some biscuits and cold ham left. I’ll fix you some while you clean up.”
“No, ma’am,” Will said. “You stay with your company. I was plannin’ to walk over to the Mornin’ Glory and have a couple of drinks of whiskey. I’ll just have Mammy rustle me up something to eat over there.”
Ruth had a pretty good idea why he really refused her offer. He felt out of place in the company of Judge and Mrs. Pearson and the talk about the upcoming wedding. Will Tanner was a good and decent man, but she would be relieved to be free of the worry that Sophie’s attraction to him had caused her. Each time he was sent out to apprehend an outlaw there was the chance that he wouldn’t make it back home safely. And one of these days he wouldn’t. Ruth was certain of that from her own experience. At least Sophie would be spared that pain. “You go along, then,” she said to him. “I’ll put some water on the stove for you while you go up and get some clean clothes to put on.”
“’Preciate it,” he said, and headed for the stairs.
* * *
Things were pretty quiet in the Morning Glory Saloon when Will, freshly scrubbed and shaved, walked in. It was the way Will preferred it, although he was certain Clyde Bradley would have liked to see it a little busier in his establishment. Gus Johnson was tending bar as usual and he greeted Will as soon as he saw him at the door. “Hello, stranger. I thought you musta started doin’ your drinkin’ at one of them fancy saloons over by the courthouse. Either that, or you got religion and turned into a teetotaler.”
Will laughed. “Even if I got religion, I reckon I’d still need a drink on a night cold as this.” He watched while Gus produced a glass from under the counter and poured from a bottle of whiskey. “I just rode in about an hour ago, and I didn’t have any supper. Reckon Mammy’s got anything left in the kitchen she could throw on a plate for me?”
“I expect so,” Gus said. “I’ll ask her.” He walked to the kitchen door and was back in a few moments. He looked back over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t following him, then lowered his voice and chuckled when he said, “I used to just holler for her, but the other day she told me not to holler for her no more.” He laughed again and took another glance toward the kitchen door. “She said it sounded like I was callin’ hogs or somethin’, said if I yelled at her like that again, I’d be lookin’ for a new cook.” He was about to continue, but she came out of the kitchen at that moment. “Will, here, asked me if he could get somethin’ to eat,” he said to her.
The skinny little woman walked toward the end of the bar, stopping a few feet in front of Will. She reached up to brush a stray wisp of thin gray hair away from her forehead. Then with hands on her bony hips, she looked Will up and down, as if never having seen him before. “You’re wantin’ to eat?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Will answered. “I surely could use somethin’ if there’s anything left.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t show up here five minutes later,” Mammy said. “I’ve got a little bit of stew left. I was just fixin’ to throw it to the hogs. There’s still coffee in the pot that ain’t got really strong yet. I’m drinkin’ it. Think that’ll do ya?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Will said. “That would do just fine.”
“Sit down at a table and I’ll get you a plate.” Before she turned to leave, she frowned at Gus and said, “It does sound like you’re callin’ hogs when you go to hollerin’ for me. And I weren’t japin’ you when I said I’d quit.” With that said, she spun on her heel and headed for the kitchen.
Will couldn’t help grinning at Gus, whose face flushed slightly in embarrassment. He shrugged as Will continued to smile. “Damned if she ain’t the feistiest woman I’ve ever seen, and ears like an antelope,” Gus said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Will walked over to a table not far from the kitchen door just as Lucy Tyler came down the stairs on the opposite wall. Seeing Will, she went directly to join him. “Hey, darlin’, where have you been? You haven’t been in to see us in I don’t know how long.”
“Yeah,” Will replied. “I’ve been outta town for a spell. Just got back tonight.”
“And you came here first thing to see us,” she said, smiling sweetly.
“Well, not exactly first thing. I went home first, but I was too late for supper, so I came here to get somethin’ to eat.” As if to confirm that, Mammy came from the kitchen at that moment and set a plate piled high with stew in front of him.
“Let the man eat,” Mammy said to Lucy, then to Will she said, “I’ll get your coffee.” Back to Lucy, she asked, “You want a cup, too?”
“I’d appreciate it, Mammy,” Lucy said. “It’s been a slow evenin’ so far and I’ve got a headache. Maybe some coffee will help. Want me to get it?”
“I’ll bring it,” Mammy said, and went back to the kitchen.
Lucy remained at the table, talking to Will while he ate his supper, complaining about her headache and the fact that she couldn’t afford to take time to herself to pamper it. “I don’t know what it is about Christmastime. Some of the rowdiest men I entertain all year seem to get religion around Christmas. Hell, I’d like to have a little Christmas, too.” She had given up on trying to entice Will to follow her upstairs to her room. For a long time, she found it frustrating that he never seemed to be in the mood to succumb to her charms, but after a while, she found that he was a friend. And a girl in her profession seldom had any true male friends. She suspected he might be true-loving some girl in town. But if that was the case, he never gave the slightest hint to support it.
He finished his supper and remained at the table, drinking the last of the coffee. Lucy sat with him, but didn’t finish the one cup that Mammy had brought her, complaining that it was a little too stout for her taste. “She must have made that pot yesterday,” she joked. In a little while, three of the Morning Glory’s regulars wandered in, planning to play cards and drink up some of Gus’s supply of whiskey. Recognizing Will, one of them invited him to sit in on the poker game, but he declined, saying he was going home to catch up on his sleep. So they started a three-handed poker game, knowing someone would come in later to sit in. When Will got up to leave, Lucy drifted over to the poker game to watch.
With a full stomach and a couple of drinks under his belt, it felt good to be back outside in the cold night air. As he walked back to the boardinghouse, a soft flurry of snowflakes was still falling, but he decided they weren’t going to amount to much after all. There was no sign that they were accumulating on the shoulder of the road he walked along. When he got back to the house, the buggy was still parked out front, so he walked around to the kitchen and went up the back stairs.
* * *
“What time did you come in last night?” Ruth Bennett asked Will when he came down to breakfast. “It must have been late. I thought you might have gotten back before the Pearsons went back to the hotel.”
“They were still here,” Will said as she filled his coffee cup. “I went up the back steps.”
“Arthur and Anne Pearson seem like nice people,” Ruth said. “And Garth is absolutely taken with Sophie. I’m so happy for her. I know I can stop worrying about her. She will be very happy married to Garth.” Her comments were solely for his ears, hoping to discou
rage him in case he might have had thoughts of something developing between Sophie and him. Even though he had never given any real evidence of any interest in her daughter, she always knew Sophie was attracted to him. She thought surely he must have realized it as well.
“I reckon so,” Will said, not really enthusiastic about speculating on how happy Sophie was going to be with Garth Pearson. In fact, the discussion was enough to cause him to cut his breakfast short. “Well, I’d best be gettin’ on over to the courthouse. I’ve got to report to my boss this mornin’.” He stood up from the table and paused while he gulped down the rest of his coffee, snared another biscuit from the plate in the center of the table, and headed for the door.
Only a few minutes after he had gone, Sophie walked in the dining room. After saying good morning to her mother, she asked, “Has Will come down yet? I thought he’d be early for breakfast as usual.”
“He was,” Ruth said. “Come and gone. Why? Was there something you wanted?” Damn it, she thought, always fearful that Sophie might wreck her wedding plans by doing something stupid, like asking Will if he knew any reason she shouldn’t marry Garth. That girl is going to drive me out of my mind before she is legally hitched.
“No,” Sophie answered. “We just didn’t see much of him since he got back last night.” She went to the cupboard to get a cup for herself. “I hope we didn’t embarrass him too much last night. Sorry I’m so late getting up this morning. Garth came back after dropping his parents off at the hotel and I didn’t get to bed until after midnight.”
“I suspected as much,” Ruth said. “Margaret and I didn’t need you, anyway. Your head’s too full of wedding plans. Right, Margaret?”
“That’s right,” Margaret answered. A big-boned woman of middle age, Margaret Thatcher, although a recent hire to replace Sophie in the kitchen, had rapidly settled into the family. She couldn’t help being aware of Ruth’s concern for her headstrong daughter.
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