Kiowa's Oath

by Linda K. Hubalek

  “I imagine the person was closer to the bell, and knew it would call people to come, not only from church, but anyone who was at home instead of at the service.”

  “Thankfully, the fire isn’t downtown, and I’m not seeing a big roll of smoke.” At least not from Mary’s seated position.

  Burdette had thumped ahead on her crutches, but now she was headed back toward them at a pace that Mary was sure would cause her to stumble.

  “The blacksmith shop is on fire!” Burdette screamed for Mary to hear before she turned back to get to the blaze.

  “No! No! It can’t burn down! All of Kiowa’s work is in there!” Mary shouted, wishing she could get out of this chair and dash to Kiowa’s side.

  She knew he’d try to get inside to save his jewelry. But what if he couldn’t get back out?

  “Mary! Sit down! You’re going to tip the chair over!” Her mother warned. “We’re almost there.”

  Mary clutched the arms of the chair as both Darcie and Amelia were pushing her chair now since they’d gotten off the Main Street boardwalk and were finishing the distance on the dirt street at the end of the block.

  Most of the women and young children from church were a safe thirty feet from the building watching while the men fought the fire.

  Men and older boys had a bucket brigade going from the livery’s water trough, to the front of the blacksmith shop. The liveryman was pumping the cistern well handle as fast as he could to refill the trough.

  Three men, Kiowa, Cullen, and Marshal Adam, were throwing water on the blazing doors as fast as the buckets could get to them. Nolie and his classmates were picking up the dropped empty buckets and running them back to the trough to be refilled.

  The two wooden doors of the shop were burned at the bottom, but now it was steam and mud coming from the fire instead of smoke and flames.

  Mary touched her mother’s hand as it squeezed her shoulder.

  “The fire is out, Mary. They saved the building.”

  Mary sighed with relief as Amelia pushed her toward the group standing behind Kiowa. She wanted to be sure Kiowa hadn’t been burned from fighting the fire. As she studied his profile, she could see trickles of sweat tracing through the soot on his face. Black burned holes in his formerly white Sunday shirt meant his trousers and vest were in the same shape. But at least he wasn’t hurt. Mary’s heart squeezed to think she could have lost him if the fire hadn’t been put out and he’d rushed inside to save something.

  Shivers ran down Mary’s back with another thought. By the half-burned wood scraps that had been pushed away from the door, the fire had been intentional. What if someone had started the fire during the night when they were inside sleeping? What if they had set fires under each of the doors and windows? How, in her disabled state would they have gotten out?

  Doctor Pansy left the bucket brigade now that the fire was out and slowly strode to the front of the building. Her clothes were soiled like the rest of them.

  “Marshal, I was the one who rang the fire bell. I was over at Myers overnight, delivering Marie’s first baby. On the way home, I saw the beginning of the fire. Burning lumber scraps were piled up against the doors and the smell of kerosene was strong. I tried to use one of the longer boards to knock the rest away from the doors, but the fire was spreading too quickly.”

  “Glad you thought to ring the bell instead of trying to put it out yourself, Doctor. Good work. You saved the blacksmith shop and anything else the fire might have spread to,” the Marshal praised her. “Did you see anyone around the building as you were walking this way?”

  “No, I’m sorry I didn’t. But after I went to ring the bell and came back here, some of the lumber had been kicked back against the doors,” Doctor Pansy announced.

  “Then I know who started the blaze, because we saw him run from around the front of the building as we raced to the fire,” Kiowa’s voice vibrated with his anger.

  “Who?” Marshal asked as he narrowed his eyes.

  “Herbert Tolbert.”

  Mary gasped at Kiowa’s words. Did the young man deliberately set the fire? Why, knowing it would cause damage and endanger people?

  Chapter 13

  "No! You're not going to have Herbert arrested! He didn't do anything!" Tolbert yelled as he shook his fist in Kiowa's face.

  "Your son piled up wood against the doors and set them on fire! That's arson!" Kiowa shouted back as townspeople gathered around the two of them.

  Luckily, the thick wood of the front double doors of the blacksmith shop were only partially burned at the bottom, but they were singed black all the way to the top of the railing. If the flames had gotten to the edge of the roof overhang, the whole building would have gone up in flames. And the flames haven’t crept inside because the dirt floor around the forge didn’t catch on fire like a lacquered wooden floor would have done.

  But if the fire hadn’t been caught in time, Kiowa would have lost both the building and the contents. And Mary, if she had been inside alone.

  "Maybe someone else just gave you a message that you're not wanted here."

  "What? I'm not wanted here? What gives you the right to say who lives in town? This is a free country, Tolbert." Kiowa hissed back. He wanted to crush his fist into the loudmouth's nose, but that wouldn't help the situation.

  "You're just a low life half-breed, Kiowa," Tolbert said as he jutted out his jaw.

  The gasp of the crowd around them echoed in Kiowa's head and fueled his temper but Tolbert continued as Kiowa stood there in shock.

  "You closed your blacksmith shop anyway, so why stick around? Mary and her kids would be better off without you here, humiliating them with your so-called marriage."

  Tolbert mentioning Mary added heat to Kiowa's anger.

  "What if my wife had been inside the living quarters of the blacksmith shop when Herbert set it on fire? Mary could have died if the fire hadn't been put out in time."

  Kiowa stepped back when Marshal Adam pushed his way between them.

  "That's enough. Tolbert. Where's Herbert? I want to talk to him," the Marshal demanded.

  "No, you don't need to talk to him. He didn't start this fire! It was Kiowa's careless use of the forge and trash around it."

  "The forge is cold since I haven't used it this week, and the fire started with wood scraps stacked on the outside of the building!" Kiowa shot back.

  "Herbert’s home in bed with a stomachache, Marshal. Otherwise he would have been in church like the good son he is,” Tolbert said smugly.

  "We saw Herbert run around the corner of the blacksmith shop when we left the church and saw the fire!" Kiowa yelled in frustration.

  "No, you just want to pin it on Herbert because he..." Tolbert stopped and clamped his lips tight.

  Because his son started a fire about six years ago when he threw a flaming kerosene-soaked rag wrapped around a brick through his father's barbershop window. If Fergus Reagan hadn't heard the plate glass break and ran into the barbershop to kick out the brick, the whole downtown would have burned down. All because the boy wanted to go home to Kentucky and thought if his father's business was gone, then they'd leave. The kid had no sense when he was young, but this prank was downright malicious and vengeful.

  And if Herbert hadn’t thought of setting this fire on his own, his father’s hateful talk probably gave Herbert the idea. Tolbert was always bad-mouthing people in public. Kiowa could imagine what the prejudiced man said at home to his wife and son.

  “Go home and get your son, Tolbert, then meet me back at my office,” Marshal announced.

  “No, I won’t! This is all Kiowa’s fault for thinking he can live here. He needs to go to a reservation!”

  Kiowa stared at the man. How dare he even suggest that.

  “I wasn’t the only person who saw Herbert in front of the smithy when we ran out of the church,” Kiowa assured the Marshal and he looked around, glad that several men nodded in agreement.

  “I saw Herbert too,” Fergus added. “
Adam, I’d check for soot and the smell of kerosene on his hands and clothes when you find him.”

  “You’re just siding with Jones because you’re all Indian lovers!” Tolbert accused the Reagan brothers who had moved to stand behind Kiowa.

  Kiowa felt bolstered knowing that Angus, Fergus, Cullen, and Seth had his back. Their help and friendship over the years had meant the world to Kiowa.

  “Marshal!” Everyone turned to look down the street as Mack called out. Mack had Herbert by the back of his shirt and was practically dragging him down the street. The boy fought to get away, but he didn’t have a chance against Mack, who was a tall, muscular man.

  “Let go of my son, Reagan! I’ll sue you for mistreating him!” Tolbert raged as he met the two and tugged on Herbert’s arm.

  Mack kept walking and dragging Herbert until he was next to the Marshal. “I caught Herbert by the chair ramp I built for Mary Jones.”

  “That’s not a crime! Turn him loose!” Tolbert protested.

  “You want to know what Herbert was doing by the ramp? He was using my new lumber for the house construction project to fuel the fire he was starting under the ramp,” Mack growled.

  “Where’s your mother and sister, Nolie?” Kiowa asked as Mack’s words changed his anger to panic. What if they went to the house after leaving the church?

  “We’re right behind you, Kiowa,” Mary answered from the group of women standing around Mary’s chair. “We’re safe.”

  “I assume you got the fire out at the house, Mack?” Marshal asked, the calmest man of the group.

  “Yes, but Reuben Shepard stayed there to douse it with water if it flares up,” Mack assured Kiowa.

  “Let go of my boy!” Mrs. Tolbert pushed through the crowd and pounded her fists against Mack’s arm. Mack looked down at the woman as if she was a pesky fly.

  “I caught Herbert red-handed with a can of kerosene and matches, Mrs. Tolbert. And there were two other witnesses too, Reuben Shepard, and my father. We were checking to be sure there weren’t other fires in town and saw Herbert toss the match onto the kerosene-soaked lumber that ignited the fire.”

  Hearing Pastor Reagan had witnessed the fire caused Mrs. Tolbert to sag against her son’s back, but it seemed to make her husband madder.

  “Pastor Reagan would side with his son rather than mine. Maybe Mack started the fire because he wanted the half-breed and his family to leave town too.”

  “Quit talking, Tolbert. You’re adding as much fuel to this hatred fire as your son,” Marshal Adam glared at Tolbert before turning to Herbert.

  “Your father said you stayed home from church because you were sick, Herbert. Obviously, you’re well since you’ve been seen two different places this morning. Did you start these two fires?” Marshal Adam asked point blank.

  “They need to leave town! They’re poison to our society!” Herbert sneered and spat toward Kiowa.

  “Answer my question, Herbert. Did you set those fires at the blacksmith shop and the Jones house on purpose?” the Marshal asked again.

  Herbert’s face bunched up in anger. “Yes, I did, and I’ll do it again until they leave!”

  “Herbert Tolbert, you’re under arrest for arson, stealing lumber, and damaging property,” Marshal’s deadly stare at the young man finally showed how mad the lawman was. “You’re going to jail right now because you confessed your crimes.”

  “No! You’re arresting the wrong person. Kiowa Jones should be locked up for moving into town. Herbert was only trying to get Jones out of Clear Creek!”

  “That’s enough!” Kiowa shouted, angry with the man and his accusations. “I’m evicting you from your building. You leave town by tomorrow night!”

  “What are you ranting about? I rent the building from Isaac Connely. You probably don’t have two nickels to rub together. You’re living off your wife’s income,” Tolbert spat back.

  Kiowa crossed his arms over his chest and sneered at Tolbert. He was ready to tell his secret just to see the shock on Tolbert’s face.

  “Did you ever wonder who put the money up to build the new block of buildings on Main Street?” Kiowa started his revelation. “You might have thought it was Connely because you pay your rent to him, but Connely only put in ten percent of the funds needed.”

  The crowd quieted, anticipating an announcement.

  “Kiowa, are you sure you want to say this?” Mary asked as she tugged on his hand. She had rolled her chair to his side.

  Kiowa looked down at Mary, knowing she’d back him with her support, as would others in town. “Yes, Mary, I am. I’m tired of hiding myself and my worth.”

  Kiowa turned back to Tolbert. “I’m Connely’s silent partner. I paid ninety percent of the building costs of the downtown project and, in return I get the same percent of rent from each business.

  “As the main landlord, I have the right to evict anyone I want. Read your contract,” Kiowa said with glee.

  “I don’t believe you! You’re lying!” Tolbert roared back.

  “He’s telling the truth, Tolbert,” Isaac Connely worked his way through the crowd. He and his wife, Cate, were in church when the fire scare started and had apparently stayed in town rather than go back to their country home.

  “Kiowa Jones invested his money into the expansion of Clear Creek’s downtown. He does own ninety percent of the buildings on your block and has say as to who can rent the downstairs businesses and live in the upstairs apartments.”

  “Mr. Jones owns our barbershop and home?” Mrs. Tolbert gasped.

  Kiowa hated to turn anyone away from their home, but this family had been given chance after chance to become a part of Clear Creek, and they just refused to be respectful citizens.

  “Yes, our partnership does own your building. I will have Lawyer Elison serve you the necessary papers to evict you, so I suggest you start packing, Mrs. Tolbert,” Connely gave a respectful nod to the woman.

  Kiowa was glad Connely had taken over the conversation for him. Kiowa was ready to go upstairs in his building and toss Tolberts’ belongings out of the window onto the street below.

  “But we can’t leave if Herbert’s in jail!” Mrs. Tolbert, at least, was thinking about their predicament. Tolbert was just staring at Kiowa with daggers in his eyes.

  “Since he admitted his crimes, Herbert will be sent to the county jail where he’ll be sentenced. I don’t know where he’ll serve his time after that.”

  “But he’s just a boy!” Mrs. Tolbert cried.

  “Who set two buildings on fire on purpose,” the Marshal added. “Mack, take Herbert to jail since you have a good hold on him.”

  “Mr. Jones, please! Don’t let Herbert go to jail! He’s only sixteen years old,” the woman pleaded with Kiowa.

  “His actions caused costly damage and could have killed people. Herbert needs to be responsible for them. Maybe if you and your husband hadn’t poisoned his mind, but…” Kiowa answered with a shake of his head. There was no use justifying or arguing with this family.

  “Watch out!” Someone called out just as Kiowa turned to talk to Mary. Kiowa was knocked to the ground because Tolbert had lowered his head and plowed into Kiowa’s middle, knocking the air out of him.

  But an instant later, as Kiowa lay in the dirt wheezing to get his air, Tolbert was already being lifted off him by the Marshal and Seth Reagan.

  “While you got a hold of Tolbert, please take him to jail too,” Marshal shook his head in disgust. “I’m sorry, Kiowa. I didn’t sense he was going to attack you.”

  “Are you all right?” Mary asked as she put a hand on his shoulder where he sat on the ground.

  “Yeah, although I’m embarrassed I didn’t see him coming at me. I would have liked to have stopped him with my fist,” Kiowa grimaced as he rubbed his mid-section.

  Cullen held out his hand to Kiowa. “You were looking out for your lovely bride instead.”

  Kiowa took Cullen’s hand and let him pull him upright, although he was still gasping for
air.

  “That I was,” Kiowa said as he watched the crowd disperse, even though they were looking back at him. He brushed the dust off his backside, not that it mattered since his burned clothing was ruined anyway.

  Mary stared at Kiowa a moment, then reached out her hand to him. “You just changed our lives by announcing who owns the downtown buildings.”

  Kiowa stared at her, worried now that he did the wrong thing.

  “Oh, don’t worry, we’ll survive, but you might have some people asking for handouts now that they know you’re a rich man,” Mary said with a hint of smile.

  “Most people still won’t believe ‘half-breed Kiowa Jones’ is a wealthy man, but that’s all right by me. I still want to keep a low profile, if possible.”

  “I think that all changed between people finding out we’re married, and you own a block of downtown,” Mary laughed, and Kiowa finally felt a sense of relief.

  Kiowa got back down on one knee and hugged his wife. Everything was going to be all right. And if more problems surfaced, they’d face them together.

  Chapter 14

  Two months later

  “Everyone gather around Kiowa, Mary, and the children,” Pastor Reagan said as he motioned to the people in the room. “Make a circle, please.”

  Kiowa shrugged his shoulders when Mary glanced up at him. Apparently he didn’t know what Pastor was up to either.

  Their house was finished, and they decided to have a house-warming to celebrate. The living room was packed with all the Shepard and Reagan families, let alone their other friends.

  “Because I didn’t get to marry you…” Pastor said with a grin, “I want to bless this house and your family now.”

  “Oh, Pastor, we’d love that,” Mary said as she reached for Kiowa’s hand and Burdette’s. Kiowa wrapped his free arm around Nolie and pulled the boy in front of him.

  Before they moved into the house, Kiowa walked through each room with a smoking bundle of dried sage to purify the rooms, as he remembered his Native grandmother doing when he was young. Kiowa couldn’t remember what she said, but knew it was important for his grandmother’s peace of mind, so he wanted to do it too.