by Easy Jackson
Five cats, orange and gray tabbies, each weighing at least twenty pounds, sauntered out of the stable. Tennie was never so happy to see cats in her life.
Hawkshaw never left the horses as local men drifted in singly and in bunches to look over them. Moving back and forth, he stayed in sight and always wary. He did not speak to anyone, and his appearance did not invite questions. Gid, on the other hand, never stopped running his mouth.
“Yes, sir, my sister breeds some mighty fine horses,” he would agree with a stranger. “We had a big ole fight trying to save the farm. I got into it with my sorry, no-account brothers. They wanted to sell out and head for Californy. I said we ain’t selling but by all means, inflict your presence on those Californy people cause we is plum wore out looking at your good-for-nothing phizes. Them boys is so lazy, they got calluses built up on their behinds that would shame a hog.”
As he rambled on, Tennie came to realize he would not refute the quality of the horses, but he moved the conversation in every direction away from them he could. He didn’t want to increase the incentive to steal.
At dusk, the stable owner and his helpers left to be replaced by a night watchman. The watchman was a skinny old thing looking to be at least eighty, wearing a straw hat, overalls, and a long salt and pepper beard.
“Name’s Ebb,” he said in a gravely, deadpan voice. “Ebenezer Parker.”
“You don’t talk like folks from around here,” Gid said.
“I ain’t. I’m from up around Roane County, Tennessee. Got married and that woman talked me into moving down here to be close to her people. Soon as we got here, she run off with a feed salesman.”
Gid made an appropriate comment, and Ebb continued, putting his thumbs in his suspenders, his voice as flat and pokerfaced as his expression. “That’s what I get for marrying me a younger woman. Can’t trust any woman under forty.” He raised his eyebrows at Tennie. “Present company excluded.”
Hawkshaw took one look at Ebb and shook his head. “We’re on our own tonight,” he muttered. “Might as well have stayed in the stock car.”
Hawkshaw’s cold personality did not appear to perturb Ebb in any way. He took Hawkshaw as he came, helping put the horses inside for the night, securing them in stalls. He pointed to the loft upstairs, telling Tennie, “You and them two youngest boys bed down up yonder. There’s a shovel and pitchfork up there if you need it.”
Tennie didn’t know why they would need a shovel and pitchfork, but she saw them leaning against the wall as she climbed the ladder. Placing her blankets on a bed of straw, she looked out the opened window at the city of New Orleans, wondering about Esther and Maribel.
The urine smell wasn’t as strong in the loft as it was down below, and the cats that had ignored her earlier decided to sleep with them, much to her thankfulness. With Badger and Lucas close by, Tennie lay with eyes open, listening to the sounds of the night—horses and people breathing, the occasional movement of hooves and whinnying.
“I don’t want to live in San Antonio,” Lucas said out of the blue. “I want to live in Ring Bit.”
“Me, too,” Badger agreed. “I miss Shorty.”
“We’ll be happy wherever Mr. Wash is. I promise you,” Tennie said, thinking no more jailhouses, no more drunks.
She was almost asleep when she heard the hammer of a gun being cocked back.
CHAPTER 23
“Stop right there,” Ebb said. “This shotgun pointed at your hide was oiled this morning.”
Tennie and the two boys beside her stiffened. The shotgun roared.
In a matter of seconds, they heard the sound of boots rushing in, more guns firing, igniting flashes of light in the dark stable. A man shrieked. Lucas jumped up, knocking over a bucket that hit the wall with a clank. Tennie stood up, making Badger stand behind her.
The horses were going crazy—neighing, snorting, pawing the ground, and kicking the walls of their stalls. Cats screeched. Even in the din of gunfire and frightened horses, Tennie could hear the sound of someone running up the ladder.
Lucas grabbed the shovel and swung it at the shadow of a man, but he snatched the blade. The dark form swung the shovel around and the boy with it, because Lucas refused to let go. Tennie seized the pitchfork and jabbed it as hard as she could into the stranger’s back. He screamed and stiffened, falling forward.
Lucas dropped the shovel and ran to Tennie, hugging her. Badger clung to her other side while she stared down at the figure of the man. She shut her eyes, trying to remove the image of the pitchfork sticking out of his back.
The sounds of gunfire ceased. Someone lit a lantern.
Tennie cried, “Rusty!”
“I’m okay,” Rusty yelled back.
“You all right up there, Miss Tennie?” Gid hollered.
More lanterns were lit, illuminating the barn.
“Yes. Is everyone okay?” Tennie cried.
“Yes, ma’am,” Gid said. “We all in one piece. You sure y’all are all right?”
“Yes,” Tennie called. “But there is a man up here. I think he’s dead.”
Gid climbed the ladder. He removed the pitchfork from their assailant, tossing it aside, and pushed the body over the edge of the loft. It hit the floor with a loud thud. Tennie shuddered and drew the boys closer to her.
“You and them young’uns stay up here,” Gid said. “Don’t be coming down.”
“We won’t,” Tennie agreed.
The police arrived. Tennie and the boys did what Gid said but scampered to the edge of the loft, lying on their stomachs, so they could look down below.
The police examined the scene, looking up to the loft but saying nothing about Tennie or the boys watching them.
As the stable filled with people, piece by piece, everything began to come together. Hawkshaw and Gid recognized the black pants and concha-covered vest of one of the Daring Dandies. Not satisfied with the amount of loot from the train robbery, Maribel must have told them about the horses Hawkshaw was transporting. With bold impudence, they caught another train coming into New Orleans.
When the police asked about the holes in the back of the dead man, Gid spoke before anyone else could. “That there feller was heading up that ladder yonder, so I stopped him right quick.”
The policeman questioning him nodded. Nobody said anything about going before a judge or having a trial. He didn’t know where Maribel was, but said there was a reward for the capture of the train robbers. Ebb, Hawkshaw, and Gid could split it.
Several policemen began removing the bodies from the barn. Tennie scooted back and rolled over, putting the edge of the blanket into her mouth and biting on it to keep from crying. She just wanted to go home. She wanted to be back in Texas.
* * *
At dawn, the stable owner and his other helpers arrived, taking the horses from the stalls and putting them in the corral. Hawkshaw looked as if he had aged twenty years since leaving the Beauregard plantation. Gid looked tousled and worn. Ebb didn’t look any different from the night before. They had to go to the police station to collect the reward. Hawkshaw gave instructions to Tennie and the boys to stay with the horses and scream bloody murder if anyone tried to remove them from the corrals.
The stable owner allowed one of his hands to fetch sausage and bread that Tennie and the boys shared. Several men came to look and talk about the disturbance of the night before, but no one made a move to touch the horses, much less take them.
When Hawkshaw returned with Gid and Ebb, he reported that the railroad men, knowing they were anxious to get back to Texas, had quibbled over the reward money, giving ridiculous reasons why it had been lowered. Hawkshaw and Gid yielded just so they could leave. Before going, the police strongly hinted if they did not want to be charged with manslaughter, it would be well to make a hefty donation to the New Orleans policemen’s fund. They had been forced to agree to that, too. Ebb hadn’t minded any of it, saying some woman would relieve him of his share eventually, anyway.
“Where
’d y’all say y’all was headed to in Texas?” Ebb asked. “Ring Bit?”
“That’s right,” Gid said happily. Even with the reward reduced to a third of the original amount, and having to split it four ways, he was still coming out ahead in Louisiana.
“There lots of women there?” Ebb asked.
Tennie laughed. “Not really.”
Ebb nodded. “I reckon I might look y’all up there one of these days. I just can’t be going where’s there’s lots of females. Women make a fool out of me.”
Hawkshaw grunted.
Gid laughed. “Thanks, old-timer.”
They led the horses back to the train yard and the stock car, the sun beating down brightly on them. People walked the streets, smiling and laughing, as if saying all the thievery and attempted robbery the travelers had experienced in New Orleans had just been a simple misunderstanding, and the dead bodies in the morgue nothing more than an unfortunate accident. Such was the charm of “Little Paris.”
The railway men put the stock car near the engine as they had the previous trip. Everything stood intact, and they waited for feed and water to be replenished before leading the horses up the ramp. One of the stallions hadn’t wanted to get back in, and Gid had to pick up small amounts of gravel to throw at his rump to spook him into moving. Other than that, they had no problems at all.
Gid, free of Maribel, declared he was going to ride in the stock car the entire way to Waco. Hawkshaw again warned them to be careful of their money, and they had cash hidden in every shoe and secret pocket they could think of. He didn’t look well, and Tennie wondered if his wound had reopened, but he assured her his leg was fine.
Besides the stock car, the train had two passenger cars, and behind them, two boxcars loaded with barrels and crates of goods headed from the port of New Orleans to Houston. Talk about the Daring Dandies’ robbery and their subsequent capture filled the two passenger cars. Several people repeated gossip they had heard about a woman riding with the gang, but thankfully, no one knew who she might be.
Hawkshaw had already warned the boys not to brag they had anything to do with capturing the robbers. He didn’t want anyone to know they were carrying reward money—although Tennie thought he had already wired his to a bank somewhere. She doubted it was to the one in Ring Bit.
Once their seats were secured, and the train rolled at full speed, Rusty and Lucas headed to the stock car. They returned some minutes later, leading Gid, who looked as weak as a sick kitten. Tennie rose and helped them get him into his favored seat by a window.
“My innards done turned inside out,” Gid said, panting. “I have to sit by a winder. The slats—they looked like prison bars. I couldn’t help it.”
“It’s okay,” Tennie said, trying to soothe him. “Rusty and Lucas can trade off with Mr. Hawkshaw in the stock car.”
Gid waved her away, not wanting her to see him so ill, and she returned to her seat. Hawkshaw saw what was happening and got to his feet, looking weary and tired. She sat down, and he passed her on his way to the stock car.
Tennie stared out the window. Home to Texas. Home to Wash. Would he be there anticipating her arrival? Would there be a letter from him? What would be waiting for her in Waco? They passed mile after mile. Worry over Wash and their future turned everything she saw into a continuous blur.
“Madam!” a voice seemed to be calling her. “Madam!”
Tennie started and saw an elderly woman dressed in dusty gray, her face as cloudy to match, standing above her. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Can you please do something about your boys? They’ve been arguing with each other at the front of the car for the last ten minutes,” the old lady said.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.” Tennie rose, but fortunately, it was time for another ten-minute stop. She joined the boys to rush off the train for a quick break.
“Stop fighting. You are disturbing the other passengers.”
Badger began to wail because he wasn’t allowed in the stock car. Tennie looked at him crossly. “Go back on the train and help Mr. Gid. He’s trying to get up.”
Once back on the train, and at every stop thereafter where the train took on new passengers, Tennie searched for a tall woman with dark hair. It would be like Maribel to get back on the train and demand something from them. She wondered if that was part of the reason Hawkshaw looked so off-color.
Dusk came, and Hawkshaw asked Rusty and Lucas to spend the night in the stock car with the horses. “It’s my stomach. The smell is getting to me.”
“What’s wrong with your stomach?” Tennie asked.
“I don’t know. Dyspepsia?” Hawkshaw said. “Coltrane rubbing off on me? Who knows?”
Rusty and Lucas agreed, proud Hawkshaw trusted them. Before it became too dark to see, Tennie walked through the rocking railcars to check on them. The horses were in their stalls, the boys had made a soft bed of straw, and all seemed to be settled in for the night. Tennie went back to her seat, making a bed for herself and Badger.
They arrived in Houston at dawn, stretching as they exited the train car, trying to work the stiffness from their muscles. Hawkshaw said they would have a two-hour wait before they continued, and the stock car would have to be taken off and put on a smaller train heading for Waco.
Tennie’s eyes roamed over the people, wishing Wash might be there to meet them. Although there were plenty of handsome men in boots and Stetsons, none of them was Wash. She hadn’t really expected him to be in Houston. All her hopes were pinned on Waco.
Hawkshaw stayed with the stock car while Tennie and the boys went for food.
She looked around, thinking no one in their right mind would call Houston a pretty city. It was as if every man, woman, and child carried the attitude of “I have a gun and will use it if I have to.” Nevertheless, it had an energy all its own that held an odd attraction.
“Miss Tennie, when we get home, will you fix me a sweet potato pie?” Badger asked.
Tennie nodded. She didn’t ask, “Where is home?” She didn’t know the answer.
Back at the station, they formed a line on the platform next to the tracks, waiting to board. Tennie gave surreptitious glances at the other passengers. Most of them were men, some in faded blue shirts with bright bandannas around their necks; others wore dark suits, making her wonder how they stood the heat and humidity already building in Houston. She caught her breath when she saw a tall well-dressed woman with her back to them. When she turned around, Tennie exhaled. Underneath her hat, the woman had russet-colored hair fluffed around her face. Unless Maribel had decided to henna her hair, it couldn’t be her.
“I want to ride in the caboose,” Badger whined.
“Me, too,” Lucas said.
“I wish we could at least look inside,” Rusty said.
“Go to work for the railroad, and you can ride in the caboose all you want,” Tennie said, continuing her search of passengers. “In the meantime, quit moaning about it.”
A tall woman wearing heavy mourning had joined the line near them. Tennie wanted to go to her and ask, “May I lift your veil to make sure you aren’t Maribel Beauregard?” but turned away and gave her head a shake. She was acting as childish as the boys.
“All aboard!” the conductor called.
Hawkshaw said his stomach felt a little better, but he still would prefer Rusty and Lucas to ride in the stock car. They hopped aboard, and he shut the door behind them before joining Tennie and Badger. It took everything they had to convince Gid to get back on the train.
“I can ride horseback to Waco,” he said. “Just wait for me there.”
“We can’t stay that long in Waco, Mr. Gid,” Tennie said. “If Wash isn’t there, the sheriff will make us leave town immediately. We’ll be lucky if he lets us spend one night.”
Gid stared at the train, twisting first one way and then the other, kicking his boots at the ground in front of him.
“Come on, Mr. Gid,” Badger said, taking his hand. “This is the last stretch. Mi
ss Tennie said so.”
“We’ll be in Waco before dark, Coltrane,” Hawkshaw said. “I really need your help getting these horses to Ring Bit.”
That Hawkshaw asked for his help motivated Gid enough to allow Badger to lead him by the hand into the railway car. Behind him, Tennie sent Hawkshaw a look of commiseration. “At least we have seen the last of Miss Maribel.”
Hawkshaw shook his head in revulsion. “I still don’t know how you talked me into that farce.”
“It’s over with now,” Tennie said, feeling suddenly elated. “We are almost there.”
Hawkshaw took his solitary place in the corner, stretching out and putting his hat over his face. The redhead and her male companion took seats across from him and a little farther up. Badger led Gid to his spot by the window at the opposite end of the carriage. Tennie sat somewhere in the middle facing them, placing her blankets on the seat next to her to save it for Badger, who would make numerous trips back and forth. A group of cowboys clustered around her but did not take the seat directly across from her, so it, too, was free. The woman in mourning took a spot across the aisle from Badger. Tennie felt sorry for her. If something happened to Wash, she would feel like covering her red tearful eyes, too, so she could hide alone in her grief.
The conductor walked up the aisle. The train gave a backward clank, lurched, and after a series of jerks, they left Houston. Last stop: Waco.
Tennie had bought a newspaper in Houston, thinking she would give it to Hawkshaw to read later. It would take a while for the demise of the Daring Dandies to make front-page news. Other passengers gossiped about the mysterious “woman in blue” who had been seen riding with the robbers, and Tennie did not enlighten them.
She wondered if Maribel had traveled with the Daring Dandies to New Orleans. If they had taken any of her money, she would be sure to show up at the chief of police’s office to claim she had been kidnapped against her will, and the thieves had stolen her cash. Perhaps Maribel and Esther would find one another. Tennie thought it more likely Esther would end up in a voodoo shop buying a doll that looked like Maribel so she could stick pins in it.