Charlie pinned Josh with a direct gaze. “Look, pal, I don’t want to hurt your feelin’s and I’ll never speak bad of anybody you take for your wife. But a girl like that—an upstairs gal—that ain’t what I’m lookin’ for, okay? Maybe it ain’t fair, considerin’ how I’ve been willin’ to lay with plenty of ’em, as you dang well know. But to take one for my bride . . . well, I’d never be able to get past thinkin’ about all the other men. Now that ain’t sayin’ nothing against you, if you’re able to. Plus, your Miss Cleo is rightfully a real cutie. But I’ve had a look at those other gals from the Palace and . . . well, there ain’t nothing there to help me change my mind, if you get what I mean.”
Josh’s shoulders sagged. “Okay, if that’s how you feel. I sure can’t argue against those other gals not bein’ able to hold a candle to my Cleo. It was just a notion I had, probably ’cause I’m anxious to get on our way.”
“I know you are. I am, too.” Charlie clapped Josh on the shoulder. “Just bear with me, pard. I promise to make up my mind and cull me a bride out of the pack before too much longer.”
They wandered back down the length of the livery barn. As they emerged out the front, they saw Kate Mallory coming down the empty street on her way from the jail to the rodeo arena.
Charlie took one look at this dark-haired beauty, glanced over at Josh standing beside him, then swung his eyes back to Kate again.
A moment later Charlie stepped forward. “Excuse me, ma’am.”
CHAPTER 31
Firestick had just finished brewing a fresh pot of coffee and pouring himself a cup when the front door opened behind him. He turned, expecting it to be either Beartooth or Moosejaw coming to spell him. Instead, he was surprised to see it was Sam Duvall returning, his dog Shield at his side.
“Hey fellas,” Firestick greeted. “Get your fill of pancakes already?”
“Matter of fact we did,” Sam answered. “I seem to recall heaping my plate full several times. Too damn many times, to tell the truth—now I feel so stuffed I can hardly walk.”
“Well, you made it this far,” Firestick pointed out. “What about my two deputies? They still crammin’ their faces? I expected one of them to be comin’ back around by now.”
“They would have. Leastways Moosejaw would have,” Sam said. “He was on his way, in fact, when he got interrupted. That’s why he asked me to come fetch you instead.”
“Fetch me for what? Where is he?”
“He’s waiting for you at the Mallory House.”
“What happened? What’s wrong?”
“Calm down . . . it’s nothing real serious. But it involves those English fellows. So I’d just as soon they explain it to you when you get there.”
Firestick held out the cup of coffee he’d just poured. “Here. Even though you claim to be full of pancakes, I’ve never seen you when you didn’t have room for a cup of coffee. This is fresh brewed but you’re still gettin’ a bad trade for the pot you left me earlier—I flat don’t make it as good as you.”
“I’ll manage,” Sam said, taking the cup as the marshal started for the door. “But what about our guest in the lockup?”
Over his shoulder before going out the door, Firestick said, “He’s startin’ to come around. I poured a couple cups of your brew down him and I think he thinks he’s gonna live on account of feelin’ too sick to die. In case Frenchy and Arthur from the Palace show up before I get back, they can claim him as long as they pay the fifty-dollar fine. I’ll fill you in on the rest when I get back.”
* * *
As he approached the Mallory House, Firestick could see that things were pretty well wrapped up at the pancake feed and a strung-out mass of folks were slowly threading their way from there up to the church where Pastor Bart was scheduled to start his service before long.
Entering the hotel, the marshal found a small knot of people gathered in the lobby. Moosejaw was there. Daisy was at his side, looking quite fetching with her golden hair pinned up and wearing a yellow-trimmed summer dress in considerable contrast to her customary attire of boots, overalls, and a man’s work shirt. Also present were Victoria, Oberon Hadley, and Rupert Shaw. The latter was occupying one of two plush armchairs positioned by the front window. The others stood looking on as Frank Moorehouse, his medical bag at his side, leaned attentively over Shaw.
“What’s goin’ on?” Firestick asked, stepping up beside Moosejaw.
The big deputy tilted his head toward the man in the chair. “Shaw got throwed by his horse. Seems to be banged up pretty bad. Frank is examinin’ him to see just how bad.”
“Where’d it happen?” Firestick said.
Before Moosejaw could respond, Shaw spoke from where he was sprawled back in the easy chair. “I’m perfectly capable of speaking for myself, Marshal. It wasn’t my voice box that got damaged.”
Firestick looked over at him. “Alright, mister. Go ahead then.”
“The accident happened out by that tall rock formation to the east. A ‘butte’ or some such nonsensical term, I believe you call it? The one the town is allegedly named after.” Shaw was referring to the towering rock upthrust called Buffalo Hump Butte that lay a few miles east of town and was, indeed, the feature from which the town took its revised name of Buffalo Peak. He went on, “At any rate, it was there that Oberon and I rode out to early this morning to do some target shooting. When we were ready to return, that stupid idiot of a horse I’d rented from the livery unexpectedly reared up and dislodged me from my saddle.”
“Was he startled by a gunshot?”
“The shooting was all over by that point. The miserable beast acted up for no reason whatsoever! Had there been any cause or justification, I would have been prepared. I am, after all,” declared Shaw, “an excellent horseman.”
“Even the best rider can be caught off guard by a spooked animal,” Firestick said.
“Be that as it may, that particular wretched beast should never have the opportunity to surprise another rider. He should be put down immediately!” Shaw’s nostrils flared. “In fact, the first chance I get I am going to insist that the livery operator do so.”
“Comes to that, Pete Roeback might not be real cooperative,” Firestick warned. “He thinks mighty highly of his horses. I’m surprised he’d rent you one that had any skittishness in him.”
Shaw pulled his head back indignantly. “Are you suggesting I was somehow at fault?”
“Never suggested nothing of the kind,” Firestick said. “It’s just that Roeback is one of the best horse gentlers and tamers around. Him and my man, Miguel. But by the same token, there are some horses who all of a sudden decide to show a contrary streak and surprise even the best.”
“Well, whatever the cause,” said Moorehouse, straightening up, “the result is that the fall appears to have left Mr. Shaw with either a fractured or severely sprained right forearm and wrist. Probably some badly bruised ribs, too, judging by the pain he exhibited when we lowered him into the chair. In any event, the best I can do is to bind his middle to ease any sharp breaths that will aggravate the ribs until they’ve had a chance to mend. Same for the arm and wrist—bind it and splint it, fashion a sling to limit movement until the damage heals. I can supply some pills, too, but a stiff shot of bourbon every now and then will provide the same effect.”
“Aye. Now there’s the kind of injury to have, eh, Captain? One that calls for a frequent nip of the spirits,” said Hadley, clearly trying to lighten the mood of the moment.
Shaw made no response except to give him a baleful look.
“So there’s no way of tellin’ how bad the break to his arm is?” asked Firestick.
“I can’t say for sure there even is a fracture,” said Moorehouse. “There isn’t much swelling, so I think it’s safe to say it’s not a severe one. But fracture or bad sprain, either one, is going to be pretty painful for a while.”
“In the event you’d like some confirmation to your diagnosis, it hurts like bloody hell right at the mom
ent,” said Shaw.
“I have some material for wrapping and fashioning a sling over at my shop,” Moorehouse said. “Unless Kate has some things here we could use.”
Firestick looked around. “Where is Kate anyway?”
“We thought she was with you,” said Victoria. “The last I saw her, she was going to bring you some sandwiches at the jail as I was leaving here with Marilu and her husband to attend the pancake breakfast.”
“Yes, she did bring me sandwiches. But then she left to go join up with the rest of you. That was quite a while ago,” Firestick said, not bothering to mention that Kate had been in a bit of a huff when she parted from him.
Moosejaw wagged his head. “I never did see her show up down where they were servin’ breakfast.”
“Where’s Beartooth? Is she with him?”
“When we headed up here after Hadley came around to say Shaw was hurt,” Moosejaw said, “I saw Beartooth go over toward the rodeo pens where Miguel and Jesus were. No surprise he didn’t give much of a hang about Shaw’s trouble. But anyway, Kate wasn’t with him—nor over by Jesus or Miguel, neither.”
Firestick frowned.
“She must have gone to the church to help with something there,” Daisy suggested.
“Much as I appreciate your concern for the lovely Miss Mallory,” Shaw spoke up, “I think it’s safe to presume she will make a reappearance. In the meantime, is it too much to ask that someone provide the, er, doctor with the materials he requires to finish administering to my injuries?”
“My shop isn’t that far away,” said Moorehouse. “I’ll go get what I need, be back in a few minutes. Until then, keep that arm propped up and stay still.”
As Moorehouse went out the door, Firestick looked at Moosejaw. “You know your way to Kate’s bar,” he said, referring to the hotel’s small barroom that was adjacent to the lobby area. “You mind goin’ and bringin’ back a bottle of good bourbon? Grab some empty glasses, too, while you’re at it. It might only be the middle of the morning, but I got a hunch there might be a couple of us”—here he shot a sidelong glance at Hadley—“willin’ to join Shaw in a slug. Strictly in the spirit of medicinal purposes, of course.”
Moosejaw went to do as requested. Daisy trailed after him.
As they were leaving, Shaw tipped his head back against the chair, closed his eyes, and expelled a long, ragged breath. Suddenly his eyes re-opened wide and his head lifted again. He cut his gaze back and forth between Firestick and Victoria. “Just in case anyone is wondering,” he announced, “this in no way absolves that ruffian Beartooth from answering my challenge to a duel tomorrow.”
“That’s preposterous!” exclaimed Victoria. “Just as you acknowledged Beartooth was in no condition to fight with the far lesser injury of his re-opened shoulder wound, you certainly are in no shape to face him with a broken arm. He wouldn’t agree to go against you with such a disadvantage anyway.”
“He has no choice, unless he is the dishonorable coward I’ve suspected him of being all along,” said Shaw. “You see, it will not be me in my current damaged condition he will be facing. It will be me in the form of my second—Oberon.”
“Now wait a damn minute,” growled Firestick. “This whole duel thing was your crazy idea to begin with. Now you’re tryin’ to say you expect it to go on without you even bein’ part of it?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes, that is indeed what I am saying. Much to my personal disappointment, I must add,” Shaw stated. “Nevertheless, once the challenge has been made and the date of the engagement set, it cannot be postponed or re-assigned indefinitely due either to whim or inconvenience to one of the principals. That is the whole purpose for naming seconds. You heard the diagnosis of what passes for a doctor in this godforsaken corner of creation you call a town. There is no way for him to say for certain how long my healing may take. And I certainly do not intend to linger here for an uncertain amount of time. Hence, the matter will be settled with Oberon acting in my stead, and afterward we will take our leave on the next available stagecoach.”
Victoria swung her attention to Hadley. “And you are willing to go along with this? To put yourself in a position where you may kill—or be killed—over a matter you have absolutely no personal investment in?”
“But I do have a personal investment, ma’am,” said Hadley, a curious mix of sadness and somberness gripping the battered mask that was his face. “I gave my word when I agreed to be the captain’s second. There’s no way I can fail to honor that.”
“The only question, my dear,” said Shaw, “is whether or not concepts like honor, commitment, and bravery mean anything to someone like this uncouth lout who’s managed to addle you with foolish notions of romance.”
“Mister,” said Firestick, his voice turned gravelly, “that’s twice in just a handful of minutes you’ve used your highfalutin lingo to speak poorly of my friend. He ain’t here to defend himself, but I am. You might want to keep that in mind. Because if you don’t, you’re apt to piss me off. Comes to that, you might also want to keep in mind that my way ain’t to mess around with no fancy la-de-da rules or field of honor bullshit. I’ll come at you sudden and full bore, and the only thing that sprained arm of yours will mean to me is something I might decide to rip off and beat in your smug face with.”
Shaw’s mouth dropped open and he turned a full shade paler than he already was. Behind him, Hadley’s body went rigid and his eyes became cautious, measuring.
Before either of them could say or do anything more, the lobby door opened and Frank Moorehouse came back in. With him came Frenchy Fontaine and a dark-haired, nervous-looking young woman.
CHAPTER 32
“Firestick,” said Moorehouse hurriedly, somewhat breathlessly. “I think you need to hear this right away.”
Suddenly the tension in the room shifted to Moorehouse’s tone and anxious expression.
“What is it?” Firestick wanted to know.
At that, Frenchy stepped forward. Motioning toward the young woman who’d entered with her, she said, “Marshal, this is Janice, one of the upstairs girls at the Palace. Janice, tell the marshal what you saw.”
The girl seemed hesitant, finding it hard to get started at first. But once she did, the words started coming quicker and easier. “It was an hour or so ago. Maybe a little longer. I . . . I heard a noise outside my room, out in the hallway. I was only half-awake but I got up to see. When I looked out, there was nobody there. But I was awake by then and I needed to, uh, do some personal business. Only the chamber pot was full, so I took it down the back stairs and out to dump it. And that’s when I saw them.”
“Saw who?” Firestick prodded.
“The men riding away on horses. Two of them. They were leading a third horse loaded with bundles of stuff. Cleo was riding with one of the men and another woman was riding with the second man.”
The muscles in Firestick’s gut started to tighten. “Did you recognize the men? Or the other woman?”
Janice shook her head. “I don’t remember ever seeing either of the men before. They were turned mostly away, riding off, so I didn’t have a real good look. But nothing looked familiar about them. The other woman I was pretty sure I’d seen around town before. But us girls from the Palace don’t get out too much so I wasn’t positive. Not at first. But the more I thought about it, the more something felt kinda wrong with the whole thing.”
“Do you think the women were bein’ takin’ against their will?”
“I can’t say for sure. In both cases, the gals were sitting in front so the men had to have their arms kind of around them in order to work the reins. That could’ve meant they were holding them in place or, like I said, just steering the horses.”
“Did the women appear to be strugglin’ or fightin’ back against the men?”
“Not from what I could tell. That’s why I didn’t say anything right away. If you know Cleo, well, she can be kind of wild spirited and independent sometimes.” Janice paused, c
asting a sidelong glance at Frenchy and nibbling at her lower lip before bringing her eyes back to Firestick. “I thought at first she might be riding off somewhere to do a, you know, kind of a private session with those men. But I kept thinking about that other woman and how she didn’t really fit. That’s when I finally remembered where I’d seen her before and who she was. Or at least who I’d been told she was. The lady who runs and owns this here hotel.”
The tightening in Firestick’s stomach suddenly jerked into a knot, so quick and hard it was like a punch to the gut.
Victoria gasped audibly and Moosejaw uttered a curse, not quite under his breath.
“When Janice finally got worried enough to go to Frenchy with what she’d seen,” Moorehouse said, “Frenchy immediately took her to the jail to find you. I ran into them when I was returning from my shop and brought them here.”
Firestick heard the words, but they were blurred by the great rushing roar in his ears and the blood pounding in his veins. His beloved Kate! Abducted? He could think of no other reason that would explain her riding out of town in the company of two strange men without taking time to notify him. But why? Taken by who? And how did Cleo fit in? Had she also been abducted or was she part of some twisted plot?
Standing there, half-stunned, Firestick had no answers. He only knew he needed to set things in motion for the sake of finding some—and fast!
* * *
With so many folks on hand for the festival, Pastor Bart was holding his service on the lawn out back of the church proper. Practically everyone currently in town was in attendance.
The only people who weren’t consisted mostly of the handful scrambling under the direction of Firestick. Moosejaw, Daisy, Victoria, and Moorehouse scattered to search and make sure there was no sign of Kate anywhere in town. Beartooth and Miguel were also alerted and joined the search. Young Jesus was dispatched to take care of a very particular matter for the marshal.
While the others were looking, Firestick asked Frenchy and Janice to show him the area behind the Lone Star Palace where Janice had seen the horsemen and the women. He studied the tracks they’d left and committed to memory everything about them that might help him spot them again in the future.
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