A Season in Hell

by Easy Jackson

  “Nothing?” she said, and when they reiterated they did not know anything, her eyes fell downward. She withdrew from the circle of fire so they could not see her tears.

  She had seen that day the kind of men Wash faced. If he ran across outlaws so depraved they had nothing to lose . . . he might never make it back. Her heart contracted, and she stifled a sob in her throat. What was she to do? “Oh, God,” she muttered under her breath.

  Lafayette drew close to her. “Tennie, don’t worry, my dear. Wash can take care of himself. Return to Ring Bit with me.”

  “You still have your marshal job in Ring Bit,” Shorty interjected before she could even think to answer. “We merely told people you were on a personal errand. You can return anytime.”

  She wanted to scream she didn’t want to be the marshal of Ring Bit. She was tired of being a joke, a laughingstock, a pariah, all those things rolled into one. She bit her lip and tried to calm herself. Wash had told her to go to Waco. There might be word from him there. And if there wasn’t, she would have to go back to Ring Bit. Once again, God would be putting a real ring bit in her mouth, forcing her to do things she didn’t want to do.

  “I think I should go to Waco and wait a few days,” Tennie said. “Wash thinks I am there. If I don’t hear from him, I’ll return to Ring Bit.” And because Wash had warned her not to get too close to Lafayette, she would return as marshal, bitter medicine that it would be.

  They made a quiet camp that night. Tennie was exhausted and troubled.

  * * *

  When Lafayette examined the horses from the livery in Waco the next morning and learned how much the boys had paid to rent them, he became irate. “Not another penny. If they ask for any more money when you deliver these broken-down nags, refuse to give it to them.” He looked at the swayback, knock-kneed specimens and frowned. “I will give them a piece of my mind,” he declared. “Robbing children.”

  Hawkshaw said nothing and seemed to withdraw into himself. As they traveled, following the creek until it ran into the Brazos River, the boys did not fight amongst themselves, but watched the older men, trying to imitate the way they rode, how they sat in the saddle and handled the reins. When Shorty explained different ways of finding the best place to cross a river, they listened attentively.

  Tennie sat glumly, wishing she could recapture her earlier giddiness. The men from Ring Bit were at odds with Hawkshaw, giving him cold glances that cast a heavy pall over the rest of them. He appeared oblivious to their stares of dislike. But he had not raised his gun to Lafayette, and they realized Hawkshaw could have killed them all if he had wanted to. When they pretended it was for her sole benefit they traveled slower, with frequent stops, not because of Hawkshaw’s wound or Shorty’s breathlessness, she did not contradict them.

  Despite his insistence on being unhurried, Lafayette was unable to hide his worry over his business or his anxiousness to get back. The fire at the Silver Moon had been quickly put out, but there was still damage to contend with. He accidentally let it slip he had several freight deliveries coming in with new fixtures for the saloon and no one he could trust to accept them. Shorty, too, was concerned about his job, having delegated it to a helper he had little faith in.

  On the second morning as they broke camp under a rustling canopy of cottonwood trees, Tennie begged Lafayette and Shorty to go on ahead without them. “You can make much better time, and we’ll be fine in Waco for a while. Just tell us which hotel or boardinghouse to stay in.”

  “My dear Tennie,” Lafayette said. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you and the boys alone out here in the wilderness or in a town such as Waco.”

  “I’ll be with them for a while,” Hawkshaw said, seeming to almost talk to his horse. “I have to wire back the money I was paid anyway.”

  Gid looked at Hawkshaw, opened his mouth, shut it, and turned to Lafayette. “Colonel, you and Shorty go on ahead. With your permission, I’ll stay with Miss Tennie and these young’uns and see that nothing happens to them. You can count on me, sir.”

  Tennie could see Lafayette wavering and the relief on Shorty’s face. “See there, Lafayette. We’ll have Mr. Gid and Mr. Hawkshaw with us. We’ll be fine for several days or a week. And after that, if I haven’t heard from Wash, we’ll go back to Ring Bit.”

  Both Lafayette and Shorty shot Hawkshaw a look that said they wouldn’t trust him to look after the Virgin Mary in Waco. He was still concentrating on getting his saddle right as if they weren’t there.

  Shorty turned to Lafayette. “I believe she is right, Lafayette. As long as Gid is with them, I don’t think any harm will come.”

  “Yes, sir, Colonel,” Gid said. “I’d be pleased to. You don’t even have to pay me no wages. I’ll do it for free. I don’t mind a bit. Not one bit, sir.”

  Lafayette took a deep breath. “Calm down, Gid. You’ll get your regular wages.” He turned to Tennie. “Are you sure, though?”

  She nodded. “I’m sure. I would feel terrible if I knew I was holding you back, keeping you from your work.”

  “All right, then.” Lafayette spoke to the boys, who had been lingering in the background, listening to every word. “You boys mind Miss Tennie, hear now?”

  “Yes, sir!” Rusty said, with Lucas and Badger repeating it.

  Before he and Shorty left, Lafayette took Tennie aside, pressing money into her hand. “I know Wash gave you some money, but I want you to take this. He would skin me alive if I didn’t. You have to have new clothes, and hotel living is expensive. I want you to stay on the square in Waco. That’s where the best hotels are, and you will be surrounded by respectable businesses. Do not venture anywhere else.”

  Tennie nodded. He didn’t have to tell her twice. She had once been kidnapped in Alabama and thrown into a brothel, escaping through a window before anything could happen. She had no desire to relive that experience.

  “Tennie,” he said, drawing closer to her. “About this Hawkshaw person . . .”

  She tried to reassure him. “You’ve had customers in your saloon who didn’t like anyone to get chummy with them or touch them in a personal way, haven’t you?”

  “Yes,” Lafayette said, looking at her to continue.

  “He’s like that,” Tennie said, fumbling, trying to find the right words to express Hawkshaw’s peculiarities. “He can tolerate a person trying to fix a wound on him or something like that, but he can’t handle someone wiping the sweat from his brow in compassion. He can’t stand us getting too close to him. If he thought I was going to get hysterical and start crying or something, he’d go dig a hole and bury himself in it if he had to. But at the same time, he did save my life, not to mention stopping those awful Miltons from abusing me. You don’t have to worry about him.”

  Lafayette stared at Hawkshaw’s back. “I have seen snakes with warmer hearts than his. All right, my little Tennie. Go to Waco and wait for my brother.” He kissed her cheek before turning to get on his bay. Once in the saddle, he moved the horse toward Gid. “Giddings Coltrane. Keep your hands to yourself. Do not touch Miss Tennie in any way for any reason without her permission. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir,” Gid said, and Tennie thought for a moment he was going to salute.

  Shorty, after getting on his horse, gave the Granger children a severe look. “Boys.” He did not have to say more. One word said it all. He looked at Tennie. “Tennie, you have been through an extraordinary ordeal. Rest in Waco.”

  “Yes, Shorty,” she promised.

  After more directives from Lafayette about getting added money from the bank in case of an emergency, having their luggage delivered to the hotel he wanted them to stay in, and promising to call off the posse looking for her as soon as they reached Waco, the two men left.

  CHAPTER 12

  Tennie sat down on a fallen cottonwood log. There was no hurry. If Lafayette met Wash in Waco, he would send him to them. If he wasn’t there, they would have to wait anyway.

  With Lafayette and Shorty gone, Ru
sty and Lucas began to fight over who would ride the Appaloosa.

  “It’s my turn,” Rusty said.

  “You didn’t even like him at first,” Lucas said. “You just want to ride him now because I won a horse race with him.”

  It became an increasingly louder shouting match until it turned into a fistfight.

  Badger began to cry. “I want my Rascal,” he sobbed. “I want my dog.”

  Tennie tried to console him. “We’ll see Rascal soon.”

  He was having none of it. “I want my Rascal right now!” he cried, throwing himself on the ground. He lay on his back, proceeding to have a screaming fit, kicking his feet and flailing his arms.

  Tennie stared at him in dismay while Rusty and Lucas threw violent punches at one another, causing blood to spurt from noses and eyes to be blackened. Gid, without a word, picked Badger up and tossed him as far as he could into the muddy Brazos, creating a tremendous splash that put a halt to Rusty and Lucas’s fight.

  As pudgy as Badger was, especially after all the tortillas he had cadged off the Mexican women, he could still hold his own swimming with the rest of the boys. Tennie walked to the river’s edge, just to be sure that a current didn’t take him under, but he swam with ease to the shore. She helped him out of the river, and they walked back to the others.

  “Are we going to reach Waco today?” she asked Gid.

  He shook his head. “Probably not, Miss Tennie.”

  She turned to the older boys. “Rusty, you can ride the Appaloosa today, and tomorrow, Lucas can ride him into Waco.”

  “Well now, that sounds like a plan,” Gid said. “Say, what’s that there horse’s name anyhow?”

  “I want to name him,” Rusty said.

  “No! He’s mine, and I’ll name him,” Lucas insisted.

  “No! Me! Me!” Badger cried.

  “I’ll name him!” Tennie yelled, trying to circumvent another argument. Everyone stared at her. “His name is . . . his name is Apache John!”

  Lucas and Rusty looked at one another.

  “Apache? That’s a good name for a horse,” Rusty said, and Lucas agreed.

  Tennie closed her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them, she was surprised to see Hawkshaw had not fled.

  “Who’s Apache John?” he asked.

  “He was an Indian who saved my life with a mad stone when I got snake bit,” Tennie said.

  “I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff,” Hawkshaw said.

  “That I believe,” Tennie said. “I’m just a little skeptical of a raw egg being able to take any of your evil spirits away.”

  Hawkshaw laughed.

  Tennie shook her head again, giving up trying to understand this strange man. “Listen,” she told the boys. “That horse really belongs to any relatives of the Miltons.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Hawkshaw said. “There aren’t any.”

  That settled that.

  As they made preparations to leave, Tennie realized they now had an Appaloosa to feed in addition to a gray dun, a buckskin, and a mule back in Ring Bit. She was sure she was going to be horse poor.

  Once on their way, Gid began to talk about his mother, who was in ill health; his no-account brothers, two who were in prison and two more who were out roaming the countryside causing trouble; and his snooty relatives who included Lafayette’s disastrous former love interest.

  Just when Tennie thought she knew more than she could ever possibly want to know about the Coltranes, Hawkshaw said, “Don’t you ever shut up?”

  Gid gave him a hard look. The horse Gid was riding whinnied as if he had been holding it in, waiting to get a word in edgewise. “Ain’t nobody complaining but you, gunfighter. You can hightail it out of here any time you’re ready.”

  Tennie reined her old nag closer. “No, he can’t. His leg still hasn’t healed, and he doesn’t need to be off by himself somewhere else in case he falls sick.”

  Gid gave Hawkshaw a snort. “Some folks ain’t got no manners.”

  “Appears to me like you’re the one with no manners,” Hawkshaw taunted. “Where’s that politeness you Johnny Rebs are always bragging about?”

  Tennie sighed. Hawkshaw was an expert needler. She started to say something to break them up, but Gid spoke first.

  “Blue belly, wasn’t you?” Gid said, making it sound like something shameful. “I reckon I should have known that.”

  “Gid was an explosives specialist. It’s because of his expertise that we were able to blow our way out of trouble,” Tennie reminded Hawkshaw.

  Despite anything she said, Hawkshaw and Gid continued to jab one another. Neither came off the victor or the loser because each held the unassailable belief he was right. To make matters worse, the weather had begun to grow hot and sultry.

  Tennie moved away from the bickering men, riding off to one side by herself as she wondered if Wash Jones had forgotten about her or had decided he didn’t really want to marry her after all. Why should he? She wasn’t and never had been like the soft southern belles he grew up with. She was just a nobody.

  She wiped sweat from her brow. Her dress was wet with perspiration, and her horse dripped with it.

  “The wind is changing. It’s going to storm,” Gid said, breaking off the squabbling. “We best get away from this here river and find someplace safe to make camp.”

  They rode for some time, looking for shelter. The trees were near the river. Beyond that was a sea of stirrup-high grass.

  “We’re getting into this goldang black gumbo, too,” Gid said. “If it rains, we’ll be up to our eye pits in mud.” He told them they would have to find a small grove of trees surrounded by larger ones. As clouds with dark underbellies rolled closer, and the scent of rain could be smelled, they found something not too near the water. They set about building two lean-tos.

  Hawkshaw stated he had no plans of sleeping anywhere near Gid, and Gid replied he wasn’t about to let Hawkshaw out of his sight. Hawkshaw gave in, and Tennie could tell by his paleness that his leg was bothering him. He gimped around somewhat but couldn’t do the work Gid and the boys did. She tried to help, too. As wind began to whip her skirts, and fat drops of water hit her face, predicting what was in store, she tied branches to the lean-tos in hopes of tempering a soon to be driving rain.

  Thunder rumbled and lightning began to strike. Gid ordered her and the boys to get under the lean-to and not crowd too close to one another.

  Thus began a miserable night. Their lean-to offered a minimum of protection. Hawkshaw and Gid had blankets they insisted on giving to Tennie and the boys, but they were soon soaked. Thunder crashed, and lightning struck a tall tree in front of them, lighting up the night as it ripped through the trunk, splitting it in two and making as loud an explosion as the gunpowder they had set off in the canyon. It looked and sounded like the devil was after them. Sleep didn’t come until far into the night, when the thunder and lightning stopped and the rain slowed to a steady miserable drizzle.

  By dawn it had let up, but they awoke hungry and feeling wretched. Hawkshaw and Gid immediately began to argue. Hawkshaw accused Gid of snoring louder than a freight train, and Gid accused him of buzzing like a sawmill.

  “Let’s just go,” Tennie pleaded. “We can find something to eat later.”

  They had to stay in the trees near the river. The thick roots were the only thing that kept the horses’ hooves from sinking in black mud. When they began to see acres of cotton growing, they knew they were getting close to Waco. Despite the crops, there were no signs of humans.

  The storm seemed to have scared off every living thing. Rusty and Lucas asked permission to try bagre fishing as the Mexican boys had taught them. Tennie didn’t trust rivers, especially after a rain. If it had stormed upstream, a wall of water could come down the river at a few seconds’ notice. She was also afraid of cottonmouth snakes.

  “I ain’t seen so much as a rabbit to kill around here,” Gid said.

  Tennie gave in when he promised to wat
ch the boys and keep Badger on the bank.

  “You go on over yonder with your back to that there tree so these young’uns can strip down,” he ordered.

  “All right.” She looked at Hawkshaw. “Will you join me, Mr. Hawkshaw? I think you need to sit down and stretch that leg out for a while.”

  He nodded and she followed him to a massive cottonwood tree trunk. She didn’t try to help him down, and when he was seated, she sat down on a protruding root some feet away.

  “How is your leg?” she asked.

  “Tolerable,” he answered. “That idiot is eating all this up. He’s nothing but a big kid himself.”

  Tennie thought of the look in Gid’s eyes when he had faced Wash holding a gun on him. “Don’t underestimate him. If we weren’t putting up with him, we’d be putting up with Lafayette and Shorty pacing around, panting at the bit to get home to business. And if you think you are low on Gid’s list, you are at the bottom of Lafayette’s.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass,” Hawkshaw said, and Tennie realized that just about summed up his life.

  They could hear the boys squealing and hollering, but it sounded like happy noises.

  “What are you going to do now?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Hawkshaw said, letting out a long breath. “I’m thinking about taking the money back to Beauregard instead of wiring it, just to put the fear of God into him. Otherwise, he may put a bounty on my head, too, just out of pure cussedness.”

  “Right now,” Tennie said, “all I can think about is getting to Waco, taking a bath, and throwing this dress and all these filthy petticoats into the trash.” She was happy to see a sardonic look cross his face, replacing the despondency.

  “Ladies don’t talk like that to gentlemen, Miss Tennie Marshal,” he said.

  “I’m all right then, because you aren’t a gentleman.”

  “Miss Tennie, Miss Tennie,” Lucas called. “Come look and see what we got.”

  Tennie tried to rise, but tripped over a root, landing palms down. She grimaced and stood up, wiping her hands on the massive tree trunk. A thought darted across her mind that it had become abnormally quiet in Lucas’s direction.