Lovell's Prize

by Randy D. Smith

  Lovell considered the scandal that could develop but since the lobby was empty at the moment and he was attracted to her, he was open to her coming to his room. He was no fool, eunuch, or saint. Bonny Black was one of the most attractive women he had ever known. She was interested in him and would not go to his room unless she was prepared to go all the way. He took her by the arm and escorted her to his room.

  As he unlocked the door, he said, "I hope you are not misleading me. I told John that as long as you were together, I'd have little contact with you. Your being in my room is a potentially scandalous situation for you. And, if Black is the jealous type it could get me shot."

  She stepped into the room. "Are you concerned for my reputation or your safety?"

  He lit the lantern and offered her a seat in the rocker by his window. "Yes, a bit of both. John Black could do you a lot of damage in this town if he knew about this. I don't want to have to defend myself against him in the street. I admire your husband in many ways."

  "John and I had a conversation about you. He said that I was infatuated with you and he could understand why."

  "How's that?" Lovell asked, wondering how he could intimidate a man of position like Black in any way.

  "John is an admirer of yours. He said that he could understand how a woman would be attracted to a tall, handsome marshal—a man of mystery and courage. He could see how a man much younger than he could seem exciting to a woman as young as I, and a temptation."

  Lovell smiled. He had never considered himself handsome although he knew that women could be attracted to him if he allowed it. "I don't believe I'm as much younger than John as he thinks. There are only ten years of age between us."

  Bonny set her shawl aside and removed her hat. "It isn't just physical age. It's attitude and mental age as well."

  "What do you mean?"

  "John is an old man. He thinks like an old man. He sees no adventure in life. He comes home and expects me to be satisfied sitting at his feet in admiration. He will not go any place or do anything that might put him in contact with younger people. He expects the girls to be in their rooms when he is in the house. He has a few male friends and he isolates me in his world. If we have sex it is a reward from him when he feels like I should be rewarded for being a "good wife." Otherwise he has no interest. My mother wrote me that I should be very careful marrying a man so much older. She advised me against it for many reasons, reasons I did not understand then but I do now. She was right. He is too old for me."

  "And you believe I am different?"

  "You are an active, attractive man. Look at you. It has only been a little over a week since you were very badly hurt yet you rode with the other marshals to bring in Trace Nodine when any other man would have gone to bed and complained about his wounds. You walked into that lobby tonight in your dark suit with that handsome demeanor and took my breath away. It is like Cora said. You have character and everybody can see it but you. The whole town knows of "Parker's Guardians," the three marshals who are unafraid to enforce the law and do it so well. They talk in admiration of Pete Syle and Bass Reeves, of their courage and devotion, but when your name is mentioned they act totally different. They see you as the symbol of Parker's court. You are the marshal who goes the extra mile to enforce the law. The type of man that a woman can have for a defender and a protector no matter who or what she is. You are becoming famous, not only in Fort Smith but also throughout the nation. John is capable of none of that no matter how wealthy he is. He is an old man with nothing to look forward to. You are not. You will never be old in the way that he is."

  "John Black is a well-to-do man. I will never have the wealth or standing that he has."

  "Money is not everything. I know about his money much better than you do. I did not marry John for his money. I married him for the security that he could provide. I was weak, alone and afraid. He knew I was vulnerable and took advantage of it. But that security has become a prison, not because of my weakness but his. He thinks he can treat me as an object and make everything right with his money. But that has nothing to do with real happiness."

  Lovell nodded. Was she right or was she just making excuses to justify being with him? How would she ever be satisfied with him especially after what John had provided for her…no matter what she said at that moment?

  "Well, are you going to ask me to go to bed with you or not?" Bonny blurted.

  Lovell smiled uneasily. She was under no illusions. She was in the room to be bedded. He knew it from the start and so did she. She was beautiful and she wanted him. He missed the company of a loving woman, not someone like Leah who came in the night and took her pleasures from any source; or someone like Sadie who performed her duty as a woman but really wasn't interested in a loving sexual relationship beyond that. This woman wanted to be loved by a man in a way that only a man could love her. He wanted to be loved by a woman as only a woman could love. No matter what scandal there might be in the future, right there and right them, it was what they both needed and he would be a fool to pass it up.

  "I'm going to need some help with my buttons," he said. "These fingers don't work very well just yet and I'm having a hell of a time unbuttoning them with my left hand."

  She rose from the chair and stepped to him. She smiled and began unbuttoning his pants. "You mean like this?"

  "Yes."

  "You must think I am a scandalous woman."

  He kissed her gently and began undoing the hooks at the back of her dress with his left hand. "I think you are a beautiful, loving woman and that is enough for now."

  Chapter 15

  Cherokee Meadows was a small settlement nestled along the banks of Jasper Creek, established for trade with the tribe. Other than a general store and stable situated next to each other the only other notable feature of the village was a small stone Methodist chapel several hundred feet to the west. Back on the higher ground was a pair of simple houses for the families of the storekeepers. Massive cottonwoods shaded the settlement giving it a cool and welcoming appearance. A hay crew was working in the meadow, gathering and stacking the loose, freshly mown hay for the winter feed needed for the stable.

  Lovell and C.W. Thompson held up their mounts at the far end of the meadow and surveyed the area. The buildings held little activity other than a blacksmith working the forge at the entrance to the stable. The man they were looking for didn't seem to be among the crew and his description didn't fit the blacksmith.

  "Do you think he's there?" Thompson, a first-year deputy marshal, asked.

  Lovell shook his head. "Word might have gotten out that there was a warrant on him and marshals coming to serve it, but I doubt it. Most likely he's working somewhere around here or he's moved on."

  "Will these people cooperate?"

  "They probably have no idea about Camden. Just the same, we need to be cautious."

  "Then we ride in?"

  Lovell drew his new Smith & Wesson Schofield revolver, opened the frame to expose the cylinder and checked his loads. "We ride in, badges and all. Watch the hay crew as we cross the meadow. If anyone starts to slip away, we'll need to check him out."

  They rode to the stable and dismounted. The smith, a balding, thin faced man stepped from the forge to greet them. He hesitated for a moment when he recognized the badges. "Can I help you?"

  "How are you?" Lovell asked in a friendly manner. "Looks like the hay is going up in good shape."

  He smiled. "If it don't rain. I figure the boys will finish tomorrow if they stay with it."

  "I'm Don Lovell. I'm a deputy U. S. marshal. My companion is Marshal C. W. Thompson. We're looking for a man, average height, heavyset, bald with a crease scar across the top of his forehead."

  The smith seemed concerned. "What for?"

  "We need to visit with him."

  "There's a fellow that works for me in the store named Joe Blake. He fits that description. Been with me for almost a year. Seems like a real nice fellow."

  Lovell nodded.
"I'm sure he is. Can you tell me where he is?"

  "It's slow today in the store so I sent him to Reverend Bisley's church to help with the cleaning. We've got several of the Indian boys getting baptized this Sunday. Having a picnic and some singing that afternoon."

  "If it's alright with you I think I'll go over there and talk to him."

  "Sure. There's nothing wrong is there?"

  "No, no. Just a little matter we need to check on."

  "Joe's a good worker. He hasn't given us a bit of trouble. He works regular with the Reverend on church goings-on."

  "Please, don't concern yourself. I'm sure there will be no trouble."

  The smith nodded but watched them closely as they led their horses to the church.

  "You think he'll be a problem?" Thompson asked.

  Lovell looked over his shoulder at the smithy. "I doubt it. He acted more surprised than anything else."

  "Do I need my shotgun?" Thompson asked apprehensively.

  "Let's not go in armed to the teeth. I want to make this arrest as smooth as possible."

  They tied the horses to a pair of hitch posts and stepped to the door. Lovell removed his hat and slipped through the door quietly. "Hello, is anyone here?" he called.

  Reverend Bisley stepped from behind the altar smiling. Joe Blake followed closely behind. When Blake recognized that they were marshals, he hung his head but continued following Bisley.

  "Yes, sir. How can I help you?" Bisley asked.

  "We'd like to visit with Joe for a moment if we can?" Lovell said with a smile.

  Bisley looked at Joe and smiled. "I'm sure it's alright. Joe, these fellows are here to talk to you."

  Joe Blake nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll talk to them outside."

  Bisley acted snubbed but smiled and turned toward the altar. "Whatever you say, Joe. Nice to meet you fellows."

  Lovell nodded. "Yes, sir. You have a nice little church here."

  Bisley turned. "We do a lot of good work here with the Cherokee. Many souls have turned to the Lord within these walls."

  "I'm sure they have. Thank you, sir." Lovell said as he cautiously watched Joe approach them.

  "I've been expecting you," Joe said softly as he approached Lovell.

  "Is your name Richard Camden?" Lovell asked privately.

  "Yes, it is. Can we step outside?"

  "Surely," Lovell said as he turned to follow Camden out the door.

  When they were out the door, Lovell held up until it was closed before speaking. "Mr. Camden, I have a warrant for your arrest for the murder of your wife and six children in Tahlequah."

  "Yes," Camden said quietly. "Like I said, I've been expecting you."

  "If you'll place your hands behind your back, I'm going to handcuff you."

  "Do you think that's necessary?" Thompson asked.

  "By the book, C. W., by the book," Lovell said.

  "I won't give you no trouble, Marshal. I've resigned myself to the fact that marshals would eventually find me. How did you know that I was here?"

  "I'm not at liberty to say, Mr. Camden. Your hands, please."

  "I need to say goodbye to George. He and his family have been good to me. I'd like to do it without being bound."

  "I need your hands behind your back, Mr. Camden," Lovell said.

  "We don't need to do that," Thompson said. "We'll be right with him. Can't we let him talk to his friend before we take him away?"

  Lovell sighed and stepped back. "I don't like this."

  "I'll give you no trouble, sir. You have my word," Camden said. "I just want to say goodbye and try to explain things to George."

  "He's offered no resistance," Thompson said. "We'll be right behind him."

  Lovell hesitated and nodded. "Alright, but say your piece quickly."

  Camden smiled at Thompson and nodded. "Thank you, Marshal. You're a Christian." He turned to Lovell. "Just a moment. That's all I ask."

  Lovell nodded.

  "I'll go with him if you want to bring the horses," Thompson said.

  Lovell turned to the horses and began untying them as Thompson and Camden walked to the stable. Lovell noticed a rein was coming loose from Thompson's bridle bit so he drew the thong up tight and secured it. He glanced up as he brought the horses around to see Camden talking quietly to the concerned smith with Thompson standing behind and to the side. He looked down to the ground to watch his footing as he led the horses toward the stable.

  A gun blast roared from the stable. Lovell looked up to see Thompson sprawled on the ground, the smith scrambling behind the forge, and Camden standing next to the stable door with a smoking single shot shotgun in his hands. Camden looked up at Lovell with a determined expression and started for the forge.

  Lovell dropped the reins, drew his Schofield and placed a round in Camden's back. Camden hesitated then opened the tip up shotgun and took another step toward the forge. Lovell aimed the revolver carefully and placed another round in Camden's back. Camden staggered a step and collapsed to the ground.

  Lovell ran past Thompson and looked down at Camden. Camden's dead eyes were open as he lay sprawled face down and turned to the side. Lovell kicked the shotgun away from Camden's body and returned to Thompson.

  The whole of Thompson's chest was ripped open by the force of the blast. He blinked and cut his eyes to Lovell's face. He tried to speak but couldn't.

  Lovell kneeled and examined Thompson's chest. "Damn it," he said softly. "I should have known better. I am so sorry, C. W."

  Thompson said nothing. He gasped for air that wouldn't come then faded into death.

  Reverend Bisley ran from the church. George stood behind Lovell and asked, "What can I do?"

  Lovell gazed into the dead eyes of Thompson and shook his head. "There is nothing we can do for this poor man."

  "Joe was telling me that he had to go for a while, then he grabbed the shotgun and just shot the marshal. I had no idea," George said.

  Bisley stopped at Thompson's body. "Sweet Jesus. How did this happen?"

  "Joe killed this man with my shotgun," George said again, almost in tears.

  "Why would Joe do such a thing?" Bisley asked.

  Lovell stood. "His real name was Richard Camden. About a year ago, he killed his wife and six children in Tahlequah with an ax."

  "My lord, he was going to help with the baptisms this Sunday. Now this. I wouldn't have believed Joe was capable of such a thing."

  Lovell cut his eyes to George. "Can you write, sir?"

  George shook his head.

  "I can write for him," Bisley said.

  "I have a journal in my saddle bag. George needs to tell you everything that he saw and you need to write it down and witness it. I'd like someone else to hear and sign it as well."

  Bisley nodded. "I'll get Margarie, my wife. What are we going to do with these men?"

  "It's five, maybe six, days back to Fort Smith. In this heat the bodies would be so corrupted by then that it would be uncivil. I'll gather Thompson's personal effects but I believe we need to bury them here."

  George nodded. "I'll call in the men. I'll have them start on the graves. I am so sorry, Marshal."

  Lovell nodded and looked down at Thompson's body. "We are all sorry, sir." He turned for his horse, still standing by the church. He stopped by his gelding and vomited before getting the journal.

  * * * *

  Amelia Thompson opened the door of her small frame home and smiled at Evett Nix and Lovell standing before her dressed in dark suits. She was a tall woman in her early forties, auburn hair laced with a touch of gray, deep green eyes and youthfully pretty. Lovell immediately recognized her as a woman he had seen at a church picnic he had gone to with Sadie the year before. He remembered how strikingly beautiful he had thought she was that day and how sad she appeared to be. He had been quite impressed with her but hadn't seen her since and had more or less forgotten about her. She smiled but her face registered concern.

  "I need to visit with you, Mrs. Thompson," Evet
t Nix said.

  "It's C. W., isn't it?" she asked softly, tears welling in her eyes.

  "Yes, ma'am, I'm afraid it is."

  She wept quietly and nodded as Evett told her what happened. As he spoke her eyes darted between Nix and Lovell, who remained silently behind, his hat in his hand. After a while she waved her hand for Nix to stop, stepped to him, and wept quietly on his shoulder as he held her. Lovell fought hard to keep tears from forming in his own eyes.

  "He wanted to be a marshal so badly," she said quietly. "I didn't want him to but he said the money would be so much better and we could have some nice things for the first time in our lives. He rented this house with his first wages. He was so proud. It was the first house in town either of us had ever had."

  Nix held her and did not respond otherwise.

  After a while she composed herself and stepped back. "Where is he?" she looked at Lovell.

  "We buried him at Cherokee Meadows," Lovell said. "It was five days back here and I thought it was best."

  "Yes, I understand. Thank you for coming here."

  "I have his personal effects. I'd be glad to bring them in for you."

  "Do you have anyone here to stay with?" Nix asked.

  "No, I'm alone. My oldest son, Sean, is working for the railroad in Kansas City. We had a younger daughter but she died of cholera two years ago. So much has happened in the last few years."

  "Any friends?"

  "Yes, I have some neighbors who are friends."

  Lovell brought Thompson's saddle bag to the step. "His saddle is down at Big Bear stable, along with his horse. I didn't know what you wanted done with them."

  "I'd like them here, Marshal. I will probably have to sell them," she said.

  Lovell noticed her regal bearing, her classic features, and her beautiful light complexion. He was disturbed that Thompson had not talked of her at all during the week they spent together riding to Cherokee Meadows. He wondered how a man with such a beautiful woman could go without at least mentioning her. He nodded. "I'll bring them to you in the morning. I've already paid for the day."

  "If you need anything, Mrs. Thompson, please feel free to let me know. We are truly sorry to have to bear such sad news," Nix said.