by Easy Jackson
She smiled to herself, thinking how silly she was being.
A cowboy sitting across the aisle from her with light gray eyes saw her smile. “What’s so funny?”
Tennie grinned. “Nothing. I’m just happy we are almost to Waco.”
The train picked up more passengers in Hempstead, and the car became crowded. Hawkshaw had to share the seats around him, forcing him to sit up. Gid had lost his Houston food out the window a long time ago. Tennie hoped Hawkshaw, who sat staring out the window, didn’t lose his, too.
The cowboys, along with the redhead and her companion, left the train at Bryan, the last big stop before Waco.
Gid refused to get off. “Y’all might not get my pitiful hide back on again.”
Hawkshaw and Tennie checked on the horses and the boys. They said everything was fine, but there was a slight bruise coming up around Lucas’s left eye, and the knuckles on Rusty’s right hand looked roughened and red. The horses were neighing and moving about more than usual, but Hawkshaw said he thought they could stand it until the train reached Waco. He inspected each one, soothing them in a calm voice.
The conductor called, “All aboard!”
Hawkshaw and Tennie moved back to the passenger car. With the train less crowded, he was able to stretch his legs out again. She found her place as the whistle blew and a blast of steam caused cinders to fly around the carriage.
Badger knew better than to bother Hawkshaw, but with the train soon rocking at full speed, he kept running back and forth between Gid and Tennie, unheeding her commands to settle down. She was about to rise and search for the conductor to ask him how long it would be before they reached Waco when the woman in mourning rose, evidently in search of the conductor herself.
Tennie settled in her seat and looked out the window. The conductor walked by, but before she could stop him, he had already passed into the next car. In a little while, he came back again, followed by Rusty and Lucas, causing all questions to flee from Tennie’s mind as worry over what her stepsons might have done took its place.
“Miss Tennie,” Rusty said. “The conductor said we can visit the caboose and ride in it the rest of the way to Waco.”
“Can I ride, too?” Badger said. “Please?”
Tennie’s lips parted in surprise. Had the woman in mourning complained about Badger? Tennie half rose, looking first at Gid, whose eyes were almost rolling into the back of his head, before turning to Hawkshaw, who had his hat over his face.
“If you are sure it is okay,” Tennie told the conductor.
He nodded, and she spoke to the boys. “Let Mr. Hawkshaw rest. He doesn’t feel well. I’ll go stay with the horses.”
They grinned and exclaimed their thanks before following the conductor to the rear of the train.
Tennie picked up her blankets and canteen, not knowing why the conductor was being so obliging. She hoped her stepsons hadn’t been pestering him behind her back.
She made her way to the front of the car and opened the door, the roar of the train and the wind hitting her in the face. She stepped over into the next carriage, almost empty except for a few sleeping men who smelled strongly of spirits. She opened the door, stopped to glance at the men behind her, but the increased gusts and noise had not awakened them. She stepped onto the platform, shut the door behind her, and crossed to the stock car platform.
Before she could open the door, the sound of frightened horses alarmed her. She pushed at the door and stepped inside.
The horses were out of their stalls, stomping wildly about the car. Some were snorting with their ears flicking back and forth. One stallion pinned his ears back and let out a roar, raising both front legs and crashing them back down.
Shocked, Tennie dropped her things and approached one of the mares prancing and curling her upper lip in anxiety. Hoping to calm her, she put out her hand, but before she could reach the mare, she felt an arm around her neck, pulling her back.
Someone was attacking her from behind. She struggled, looking down and seeing a black dress. She kicked, trying to pull the arm around her neck away, but whoever held her was incredibly strong. Her neck was wrenched so hard, she momentarily froze. When she did, something cold and sharp was placed against her throat. She looked up at the person who held her.
The black veil had been flipped back over the hat, exposing a feral face inches from hers. It wasn’t the hideous purplish-red scar on the neck cut almost from ear to ear that immobilized Tennie, but the eyes above it—black empty holes that had nothing behind them. A person without a soul.
“I have a straight razor against your neck, Mrs. Granger,” a voice said. “Move, and I will slice your throat just like mine was sliced, except I will go deeper.”
“Inga . . .” Tennie breathed.
CHAPTER 24
The door to the stock car opened. Tennie gave a frightened, wild look at Hawkshaw as he entered, his gun drawn. The expression on his face did not change, not even a flicker. He stared at Tennie, but she knew he saw everything—Inga, the horses, the razor against her throat.
“Are you surprised to see me, Mr. Hawkshaw?” Inga said, taunting him. “You are truly not the man you thought you were. You could not bring yourself to cut my throat deep enough.”
He said nothing.
His face revealed nothing but a cool lack of nerves, although Inga’s malevolence was directed at him, glowing with glee that he would witness her making a frenzied slash at Tennie’s throat. The revolver in his hand remained poised.
Tennie looked into his eyes. She lowered and raised her eyelids slowly, telling him to do what he had to do, then leaned her neck as far from Inga as she dared, right into the razor, and closed her eyes.
When the roar of the pistol came, it was as if it had blasted her eardrums away with it. Behind her, a horse screamed in pain. She pushed Inga’s arm away from her as quickly as she could, but not before the razor dragged across her skin.
Jumping back, she felt warm blood seeping down the side of her neck. She stared at Inga, looking inhuman, crumpled on the floor with a bullet hole between her eyes. Tennie’s whole body began to shake as the ringing in her ears and the blood rushing through her head unleashed a torrent of emotion. She began to weep, uncontrollable long, jagged sobs.
Hawkshaw replaced his gun. Breathing heavily, he examined her neck. “It’s just a flesh wound.” He put his hand on her shoulder, and she buried her face in his chest, unable to stop crying. He hugged her and murmured that she would be all right.
Gid lurched into the stock car, gasping for breath. “What the—?” He looked around then down, saw Inga, and let out an oath.
Tennie tried to stop crying. She straightened, and Hawkshaw released his grip, but he did not back away.
“The horse . . . ?” Tennie asked.
“It’s just a nick,” Hawkshaw said.
Gid, unsteady on his feet, began to calm the horses, putting them back in their stalls. When he finished, he bent down toward Inga. Hawkshaw took Tennie by the shoulders and turned her away. A few seconds later, the sliding door to the stock car opened. Tennie looked over her shoulder and saw Gid kicking Inga out of the moving stock car, her body flying into the dirt and rolling away.
“I’m leaving this here door open partways till we get to Waco,” Gid said. “If that’s all right.”
Hawkshaw nodded, and Gid got down on the floor of the stock car, laying on his side so he could breathe air from the opened door, without the slats in his way that reminded him of prison.
“But—” Tennie began.
Hawkshaw shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. She probably bribed the conductor to let the boys ride in the caboose so she could get them out of here. I’ll explain to him what happened, and that we don’t want any trouble over it. He’s not going to make any. He’ll lose his job if the railroad finds out he let passengers ride in the caboose.”
From his place on the floor, Gid rolled partway over, his face pallid and shattered. “He’s right. Them jo
bs is hard to get. That there woman must have given him a right smart amount of money.” He squeezed his eyelids, trying to shut out tears. “I promised Colonel Lafayette I’d take good care of you, Miss Tennie, and I sure been a failure.”
“Don’t say that, Mr. Gid. You’ve been with me every step of the way.” She sank to the floor, exhausted. “I want to stay right here until we get to Waco.”
Hawkshaw kneeled, placing his bandanna on her bleeding neck. He got up and looked over the horses, murmuring soothing noises to them. Once the horses had calmed, he sat between Tennie and Gid near the opened door.
It was only then she realized the battle Hawkshaw had just fought and won in what had been, and was, a very long war. She closed her eyes and let the rocking of the train calm every jangling thought.
The train rattled and jolted, slowing to a halt. Tennie opened her eyes, realizing she must have fallen asleep. She sat up and looked through the slats of wood. A sign that said WACO appeared and passed by. The tightness in her chest surprised her. She stood. Her legs feeling weak beneath her, she had to place a hand on the railcar to hold herself steady.
Hawkshaw stood by the opened door, looking out and steadying himself with one hand holding on to a slat of wood. Gid refused to move until the train came to a complete, shuddering stop. Sitting up, he eased his legs out of the stock car and let them dangle.
Hawkshaw slid the door open wider, dodged Gid, and jumped onto the station platform. “I’ll be back in a little while,” he said, walking toward the other cars.
Tennie did the same, except she stood in front of Gid and helped him from the train.
Rusty, Lucas, and Badger exited from another car and ran toward them, full of laughter and happy chatter because they got to ride in the caboose.
Lucas paused and stared at Tennie’s neck. “What happened to you, Miss Tennie?”
Tennie put her hand up to the graze. “The train jolted and I fell, scratching myself on something. It’s nothing.” Dismissing the Miltons forever from her life, she looked down at her rumpled, dirty dress. “I look like something the cat dragged in,” she mourned. “And I smell worse. Oh, God, I don’t want Wash to see me like this.”
Gid straightened, wiping the sweat and tears from his eyes with his forearm. “We’ll get these here horses to a stable. Afterward, I’ll take you to the hotel, Miss Tennie, so you can get cleaned up. While you are doing that, I’ll be searching out news of Mr. Wash for you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Gid,” Tennie said, so relieved she wanted to cry. “But what about the sheriff ?”
Gid gave a weak laugh. “We’ll just have to hide them young’uns and Mr. Hawkshaw at the stables for a while.”
Hawkshaw returned, nodded his head at Gid and Tennie to reassure them everything had been taken care of. He told the boys they couldn’t ride the horses bareback to the stables. “It’s better to lead them. Let them find their legs again.”
They made plans while they walked the horses to the livery.
Gid explained his idea of taking Tennie back to the hotel to freshen up, while he went looking for news of Wash. “I’ll come back to fetch you so we can find some out-of-the-way place to get something to eat. You and these here boys are what the colonel calls ‘persona non grata’ in this here town.”
The rest of the way to the livery, they teased Gid about knowing Latin. That Gid was back to his talkative old self relieved Tennie, but the excitement she felt over seeing Wash or hearing news from him blotted out almost every other thought.
At the stable, she could barely contain her impatience. She wanted to tell Gid she would be perfectly fine walking to the hotel by herself, but she remembered how upset he felt over his inability to protect her on the train. She swallowed her exasperation at having to wait while they settled the horses in and tried to keep the annoyance she felt off her face.
When Gid finally finished, she cautioned the boys. “Stay with Mr. Hawkshaw and don’t cause any trouble.”
They barely listened, so taken up with being reunited with their Appaloosa.
“We’ve got to exercise Apache,” Lucas said.
“And groom him. They were sort of lax about that here,” Rusty said in disapproval.
“Floyd and Miss Nab would be proud of you,” Tennie said with a smile. “Come on, Mr. Gid. Let’s go.”
Despite her embarrassment over her appearance, Tennie asked Gid to stop with her at the post office. She ran up the steps, leaving Gid trailing behind.
“No, ma’am,” the baldheaded postmaster said. “I’m sorry. There aren’t any letters here for you.”
Tennie’s heart fell, but she refused to give up hope. She turned to Gid, who had joined her. “Maybe at the telegraph office.”
Gid led her through a maze of streets to the telegraph office. The telegraph operator was a much sturdier specimen than the postmaster since he had to shut the office occasionally to travel miles to repair lines.
“Yes, ma’am, I have a telegram for you.” He rummaged through a stack in a wooden shelf full of cubbyholes. “Here it is.”
Tennie’s hands shook as she took it, but as she read, her excitement ebbed away.
“What is it?” Gid asked.
“It’s from Mr. Lafayette.” She read it to Gid. “TENNESSEE STOP WIRE UPON IMMEDIATE ARRIVAL WACO END.” She clutched the telegram to her chest, so disappointed.
Gid wanted to wire the Colonel right then and there.
“No, let’s wait until we know something else,” she said. “There may be word at the hotel.”
They left the telegraph office and headed for the square.
“I’ll get you a room,” Gid said. “And sneak Lucas and Badger in after it gets dark so the sheriff don’t catch wind of them. Rusty can stay with me and Mr. Hawkshaw.”
Tennie nodded in agreement. This time, she did not stay outside while Gid went into the lobby and up to the front desk.
“I can give you a room, Mrs. Granger,” the hotel clerk said, “but there aren’t any letters waiting here for you.”
“Thank you,” she said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She turned to Gid. “Mr. Gid . . . ?”
“Don’t you worry none, Miss Tennie. I’ll get you settled in your room, and I’ll knock about town talking to everybody I can find to see if they is any word about Mr. Wash.”
“Thank you,” Tennie said. “You are a true friend. Would it help if I—?”
“No, ma’am,” Gid interrupted, picking up her bag and heading for the stairs.
Tennie left Gid to the search, knowing there were places he would go that she couldn’t, and men who would talk freely to him, but not to her. If felt good to clean the train grime off, but she wasn’t sleepy. Full of the desire to do something, she decided to channel her energy into writing thank-you notes to the judge and Viola. She took her time, but even so, when finished, she still felt too wound up to relax. Instead of resting, she took the letters downstairs, leaving them with the clerk at the front desk. The porch beckoned to her, but afraid of attracting the attention of the sheriff, she sat down on a hard sofa in the lobby, watching the door and hoping Wash would burst into the room.
She knew as soon as she saw Gid’s face when he entered the hotel he hadn’t found out anything. She rose from the sofa and fought back tears. “There is no news, is there?”
Gid shook his head. “No, ma’am, but like my old granny used to say, ‘No news is good news,’ so don’t you fret none. We’ll go rustle up something to eat, and we can talk about what to do next.”
There wasn’t anything to do next except go back to Ring Bit, back to the jailhouse, and be thankful her job was still waiting for her. She would have a roof over her head and food on the table. That it was sometimes a brutal and noisy roof was something she would just have to deal with while she waited for Wash to return.
They joined the others at the livery stable. Gid had heard of a small inn on the edge of town where they wouldn’t likely be seen by the sheriff. When they ent
ered the crowded establishment, Hawkshaw went straight to a table in the rear, placing himself against the back wall with a clear view of the front door. Some things never changed.
Cornpone, bacon, and greens with side meat were the only things on the menu, but they ate without complaint.
“Dragging me and two little ones along on a drive might be too much of a burden,” Tennie said. “Lucas, Badger, and I can take the stagecoach back to Ring Bit. I know you’ll need Rusty’s help.”
Lucas opened his mouth to howl a fierce protest, paused because he knew he shouldn’t, and instead, gave beseeching stares to Hawkshaw and Gid.
Hawkshaw continued to eat, his eyes never leaving his plate. Gid opened his mouth, but Hawkshaw spoke first.
In between bites, without lifting his head, he asked, “Would you feel safer on the stagecoach or being with us?”
“Being with all of you,” Tennie said.
“Then there’s your answer,” Hawkshaw said, sitting back and raising his eyes.
Gid exhaled in relief. “We can get a covered wagon. Load it with supplies, and it will be just like home. Them two mares will pull. Ain’t no need in buying no mules.”
Gid and the boys began to make a list of supplies. They wanted a tarp to sleep under if the weather got bad.
Tennie wanted Hawkshaw to know what the Granger ranch was like. “The house is falling down, and there is a hole in the roof of the barn where it looks like the moon fell through. Our two cowboy friends, Honey Boy and Two-Bit, work on a big ranch, but they run cattle on our land, too. Two-Bit is so lazy, his boss is always firing him, but he’s likable in a funny sort of way, so he hires him back. In between times, he stays at the ranch in exchange for fixing the place up, but I don’t think he’s done anything.”