Marion grinned.
“You’d like to git a little private time with him, would ya?”
“I’d have that shithead singin’ like a canary in about ten minutes.”
“That’s kindly harsh, Marshal,” I said.
Homer shook his head an’ got a little cocky.
“You got a better idea do ya, boy?”
“It’d take another couple a train trips,” I said, “but if I was to head for Deer Run an’ bring Mister Jeeter back to put in the cell next to Craig, I speck that ol’ boy would confess to killin’ Lincoln within two minutes just to git hisself away from all of Jeter’s noise.”
Marion near gagged on a drink a coffee he just took, an’ Homer come to grinning some.
“You ever considered a job in law enforcement?” he asked me.
It was near dark by the time we got back over to the roomin’ house. They was three or four folks settin’ in rockin’ chairs down on the far end of the porch. The three of us nodded to ‘em an’ took seats at the opposite end near the front door. We hadden been set for a minute when Miss Lotus come out with a tray a coffee in cups plus cream an’ white sugar, an’ set it on the little table. She smiled at us.
“Are ya alright, Miss Lotus?” Marion asked her.
“Very yes, Ma-re-on,” she said.
“Got some good news for ya,” Marion went on. “That Craig feller that brung you here is in jail for kidnappin’ and slavery. He’ll be goin’ to prison in a spell and won’t be no threat to you no more.”
“What mean kid-nap-in?” she asked
“That means stealin’ you like them bad men done when they brung you out to that place where they kept you with them other girls, and then when you was bought and brung down thisaway by that Craig fella.”
Miss Lotus smiled at him.
“Can I ask you one more question, Ma-re-on?”
“You can,” Marion tolt her.
“Would you like cream in your coffee?”
All of us chuckled a little bit. It was a fine an’ pleasant evenin’, is what it was.
Homer was up first the next mornin’ an’ havin’ hisself some coffee on the porch with Mister Rafferty when me an’ Marion come down.
“Glad to see you boys,” he said. “I’m fixin’ to go git some ground beef an’ egg breakfast over at Jenson’s Café. I thought mebbe you fellers might like to come along.”
“Wodden miss it,” Marion tolt him, an’ struck off down the steps. Me an Homer follerd along.
We walked over to the street that went by Jenson’s an’ heer’d a bell clangin’ in the distance.
“There it is, comin’ this way,” I said. “Homer this is your lucky mornin’. Here comes the horse drawed rail car. It’ll take us right to Jenson’s door.”
“By God,” Homer said, lookin’ down the way. “It is about damn time I got some luxury in my life. Poor ol’ cripple like me deserves some special attention.”
Marion looked at me.
“You reckon the two of us can carry ol’ Homer onto the car?”
“I speck we can,” I said. “I just hope there is a mess a folks on board so our actions can be viewed by a bunch a people. It’d be good of they see how much we think a Homer an’ how well we treat him.”
I flagged down the car an’ seen it was bein’ drove by the same fella that Miss Lotus give that five dollar gold piece. He took one look at me an’ then at Homer an’ Marion, an’ spoke up.
“No charge for you boys,” he said to me. “You overpaid me quite a bit after last time.”
“Well thank ya, sir,” I tolt him. “That there is right nice of ya. Miss Lotus sends you her regards. She will most likely be by this afternoon for a ride over this way.”
“Always welcome,” he said. “No charge for her, either.”
We took our set an’ Homer studied on me some.
“You git free rides for everbody now, do ya?” he asked.
“Kindly seems that way, don’t it?” I said, an’ went to lookin’ out the winda.
Homer wanted to, but he never asked no more questions.
Marion just set there, grinnin’.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
We was in Jenson’s Café drinkin’ coffee an’ waiting for our ground beef an’ egg breakfasts when Sheriff Hickman come walkin’ in an’ seen us. He come over an’ took a set.
Mornin’, Forest,” Marion said. “Breakfast is on me, if’n yer of a mind for a bite to eat.”
“Thank ya, Marshal,” he said, “but I already et some bacon an’ eggs over at Rafferty’s place. That little Lotus gal is some hard worker. She was scootin’ around like a water bug. She seems to me to be a fine young woman. You boys is to be admired for what you done for her.”
“She deserved it,” Homer said. “That shithead Craig come back to hisself after a little sleep, did he?”
Sheriff Hickman grinned.
“He’s up an’ around an’ well enough to bitch about his fried egg sandwich an’ black coffee breakfast. He claimed he’s bein’ treated like a common criminal.”
“Feel sorry for him, do ya?” Homer asked.
“I dripped tears on the boardwalk most of the way over here. That ‘ol boy ain’t missed many meals, but he ain’t why I’m here. I have some news about the Jimmy Jacklin thing.”
“Cup a coffee git that news outa ya, will it?” Marion asked.
“Fair chance,” the sheriff said.
Marion grinned an’ give a motion a drinkin’ coffee at Miz Grace. She smiled an’ nodded. It warn’t mor’n a minute ‘til a young fella showed up with a cup an’ poured it full, sayin’ it was on the house. The sheriff thanked him, dumped in a mess a sugar, took a sip, looked around the table, an’ spoke up.
“I picked up a long telegram this mornin’ that come in late last night from a feller I know by the name of Lloyd Richards who knowed Jimmy Jacklin,” he said. “Richards was a lawman out in Pierre for a spell ‘til he growed some old an’ the arthritis got him. He retired an’ went to live with his son an’ his bride over by Miller. He claimed that a week or two ago, a chestnut horse just come walkin’ inta town. The horse was under saddle an’ such, an’ had a purty good bullet burn on his left flank. Lloyd said the horse was some familiar to him, an’ he limped out to look him over. Shore enough, right there burnt inta a fender on that saddle was the intials JJ.
“He said a bunch a fellers got together an’ went out lookin’ for Jacklin, follerin’ a trail over toward Huron; but a fair rain showed up an’ kindly worshed out any more tracks they coulda come across. Didn’t find no trace a him or where anythin’ mighta happened to him. Looked for two days they did, an’ spoke with some folks near Huron but it warn’t no use after the rainstorm. The feller at the livery said Jacklin stopped by there to git a small bag a oats an’ asked the livery man if he’d heard a any female slavery rumors in that neck of the woods, but didn’t git no information. Bad luck for Jimmy an’ bad luck for them lookin’ for him.”
“Heer’d a Huron,” Marion said, “but I doan know nothin’ about Miller.”
“It’s just a little place,” Sheriff Hickman went on. “I speck they ain’t mor’n two or three hunnerd folks. They got a couple a little stores an’ a livery. If it warn’t for the railroad, it probably wodden even be there. I sent a telegram off to the sheriff in Huron up on the west bank of the James River, a ol’ boy name a Henry Ash, to see if he’d heer’d anythin’. I reckon he’ll git back to me. Meantime, they ain’t a lot I can do, but listen’ to Craig singin’ the weeps. I brung him his coffee an’ egg sandwich an’ his jug a water this mornin’ an’ he throwed that coffee down in one gulp an’ the sandwich in two bites. Durn near come to beggin’ me for more food. I tolt him what he was gittin’ from me was just about all he’d git after the judge showed up an’ he went to prison, so he might as well git used to it. For a minute, I thought he was gonna start sheddin’ tears. Goddamned pantywaist. He’ll break. My night deputy said Craig’s bedpan was plumb empty when time come
to dump it. I speck he’ll git some bound up with so much less to eat than he’s used to. I ain’t got one bit a sympathy for him. It won’t take mor’n two or three days an’ he’ll be ready to talk, I reckon.”
Homer snorted.
“Lemme have that sonofabitch for about five minutes an’ he’ll know how to yodel.”
“Now, Homer,” Marion said, “he’s a delicate kind a feller and is some frightened. You need to settle down and show him some compassion.”
“Give him two minutes a my compassion,” Homer went on, “an’ he’ll be singin’ like a damn canary.”
“We’re in a public place, Marshal Poteet,” Marion went on. “You need to keep some control a your emotions. You make a scene, and you might scare a mess a these customers off their feed.”
Homer was thinkin’ over his response when Miz Grace showed up with our ground beef breakfasts. Marion smiled at her.
“Nick a time, Miz Grace,” he said. “Homer here was durn near ready to go berserk. Another minute, and you mighta been too late.”
She smiled, set our plates down, an’ looked at Homer.
“That’s why he has two eggs on his sandwich, one on top of the ground beef and one on the bottom.”
“Miz Grace,” Homer grinned, “if I warn’t a married man, I just might tuck you under my left arm an’ run off with ya.”
Miz Grace laughed.
“Marshal,” she said, “that is the best offer I have had all day. Of course, that is also the first offer I have had all day. Things are looking up.”
The rest of us come to laughin’ some as she walked away. I eyeballed my sandwich an’ noticed I had two eggs on mine, too. So did Marion. We both mentioned it to Homer. He didn’t have nothin’ to say. Sheriff Hickman was smilin’ quite a bit.
After we et, Sheriff Hickman went on his way an’ Marion decided he needed a shave. Me an’ Homer went with him an’ got our whiskers scraped off. The two of us headed back toward Rafferty’s. Marion stayed behind, sayin’ he was some partial to another visit to the bathhouse. Neither one a us was terrible surprised.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
On the way back to Rafferty’s roomin’ house, me an Homer stopped by a little shop an’ he bought hisself a couple a them packages a rolled cigarettes. I was some concerned about Homer havin’ to walk all that way an’ mentioned it to him, but he just kindly snorted at me an picked up the pace a little bit. I swear, Homer Poteet an’ Marion Daniels was two of the toughest fellas I had ever knowed. When me an’ Homer finally got back to Rafferty’s, Homer just kept walkin’ an’ went on by the place. I got some confused.
“Where we goin’?” I asked him.
“Well,” he said, “I thought we might walk on over to the livery, toss on a saddle or two, an’ take ourselves a little ride. I speck our horses think we’ve give up on ‘em. Be good to git ‘em outa a stall an’ stretch they legs a little bit.”
“You alright to hike that far, are ya?”
Homer looked at me some hard.
“You see me fallin’ down, do ya boy?”
“Nossir,” I tolt him, “an’ I doan want to neither.”
We went on a little ways an’ I was beginnin’ to think I maybe had kindly hurt Homer’s feelin’s or somethin’ when he stopped an’ looked at me.
“I appreciate yer concern for me an’ my leg, Rube,” he said. “I truly do. Cleveland Pettigrew damn near shot the thing off, but he didn’t. You an’ Marion put yer lives on the line an’ settled up with that sonofabitch for me. I appreciate that, too. When I think about how close I come to losin’ the whole durn leg an’ losin’ my life from it, it comes to me how the best part a my life woulda never happened if I’d a had gone under. Me an’ Suzy woulda never had that little girl a ours, an’ I would never have got to go back on the trail with you an’ Marion. I’m alright, Rube. Ever time the pain gits fair bad, I just remember how lucky I truly am. It doan make the pain go away, but it makes it a lot easier to handle.”
I was was some took aback by Homer talkin’ to me like he done.
“Well damn, Homer,” I said. “I’m kindly honored you have tolt me all that. It means quite a bit to me, is what it does.”
“Oh hell,” he said. “You ain’t fixin’ to give me a hug or somethin’, are ya?”
“No, I ain’t fixin’ to hug ya,” I said, “but how ‘bout a little kiss on the cheek?”
Homer picked up his pace even more. When I caught up with him, I could see him grinnin’.
It was a fair walk for Homer, all the way from Jenson’s Café back to the livery where we left the horses. Most folks wouldn’t a noticed much, but I knowed him well enough to tell when he was hurtin’ quite a bit. His pace never changed, his limp stayed purty much the same, but I was some relieved once we got there. He stopped outside, took a set on a ol’ keg next to the door, stretched his bad leg out in front a him as far as he could, lit hisself one a them machine made cigarettes, an’ looked up at me.
“Smoke?” he said.
“No thanks,” I said. “Only time I ever tried one a them things was outside that saloon just afore we tangled with that Waxler bunch. It made me some dizzy as I recall, an’ a little queasy in my stomach.”
Homer smiled.
“Didn’t seem to slow ya down much when you went out an’ done for them ol’ boys that was chasin’ us,” he said.
“It’d wore off by then,” I said. “I smoked my daddy’s pipe once when I was little. I laid out on the yard in a cold sweat long enough I was scairt I was fixin’ ta die from it.”
Homer give a laugh then as he was takin’ another draw on one a them smokes, an’ commenced to coughin’ an’ wheezin’ quite a bit. It set me to grinnin’ some, an’ I went inside to find Willie while he recovered. Homer didn’t care much for people laughin’ at him.
Willie seen me afore I seen him, an’ let loose a whinny that durn near shook the rafters. I went over to where he was, that little buckskin bobbin’ his head up an’ down an’ snortin’ quite a bit. I opened the top half a the door to his stall, an’ he stuck his head out an’ nickered at me, then come to pushin’ his forehead agin’ my belly an’ chest as he grunted. I scratched his jaws for him an’ dug one a them maple candies outa my pocket. It took about a second for him to lip it offa my palm an’ git to chawin’ on it. Directly after it was gone, he come to fussin’ at me for another one. I give it to him, an’ he went after it fair thoughtful like, takin’ his time an’ enjoyin’ his treat. It tickled me some an’ I kindly give his head a hug. Homer come in then an’ looked at me.
“You two need some time to be alone, do ya?” he asked me.
Afore I could answer, the liveryman, Mister Milner, come limpin’ in an’ greeted us.
“Mornin’ boys,” he said. “Leavin’ permanent or goin’ for a stroll?”
“Just fixin’ to stretch the legs a our noble steeds a little bit,” Homer said.
“By God, you fellers has gotcha a fine couple a horses there. That liver colored youngster doan know a helluva lot, but he’s as willin’ to learn as any horse I have ever come across. An’ that buckskin’ is about as kind an’ easy as he can be.”
Homer smiled.
“How ‘bout that Appaloosa?” he asked.
“Bein’ about as big as a moose, I was surprised he warn’t totin’ no antlers.”
That got me to laughin’ some.
“I’ll say this,” Mister Milner went on, “he was easy to work around an’ didn’t give me no trouble, but I bet he’s a sight when his blood is up. The Injuns would call him a warhorse.”
Me an’ Homer was both grinnin’ quite a bit.
“The feller that owns him is mebbe the toughest man I have ever knowed,” I said, “but when that App gits his attitude up, even Marion Daniels comes to be fair humble.”
“Well now is a fine time for me to git that kinda information,” Mister Milner said. “If I’d knowed he could put Marion Daniels on the balk, I woulda toted a shotgun ever time I went in to cle
an out his stall.”
That comment set me an’ Homer to laughin’ some.
“You boys have yerselves a nice ride. I got to git the buckboard an’ go out to the sawmill. Gittin’ a little low on sawdust for the stalls.”
We watched him walk out an’ Homer spoke up.
“Seems like a purty good feller, doan he?”
“He was a Texas Ranger back in the old days,” I said. “Rode with Bill Bigfoot Wallace.”
“That would explain the limp, I reckon,” Homer said, an’ brung his horse out to a crosstie to git him saddled up.
When Willie seen that, he commenced to gruntin’ at me an’ rockin’ back an’ forth. I give him another candy an’ saddled him while he was still in the stall. After I led him outside, he come to lookin’ around quite a bit an’ snortin’ some.
“Think he’s ready, do ya?” Homer asked me.
I swung up on him then, an’ Willie come to dancin’ sideways a little bit.
“Might be,” I said. “I just wish he warn’t so damn lazy.”
The road was empty an’ Homer touched that geldin’ a his into a short lope. Willie went after him. I swear, that horse went on for the first two or three steps afore his front feet ever touched the ground. If I hadden had my mind in the middle, he’d a left me behind. It set me to grinnin’ is what it done.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Knowin’ our horses was stall struck, we didn’t go through town but headed out into open land an’ set ‘em on a high lope to git some a the feathers outa they feet. Homer an’ me stayed near knee to knee, grinnin’ at each other like a couple a school kids. We went on like that for a mile or better, then Willie come to shakin’ his head some. I touched him just a bit with my heels, an’ off he went, leavin Homer an’ his new horse behind. They tried to keep up but just couldn’t git it done. After another mile or so, I reined Willie in agin’ his better judgment an’ let Homer ketch up to us. To tell the truth, that young liver-colored horse a his warn’t terrible slow. He could stretch out an’ run some. He just warn’t Willie. We brung both horses back to a light lope, an’ I spoke up.
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