Hell on the Prairie (23 page)

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Authors: Ford Fargo

Tags: #action, #short stories, #western, #lawman, #western fiction, #gunfighter, #shared universe

BOOK: Hell on the Prairie
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Hey, take it easy, you,” Ben chided.
“I’m still up here, pretty much unprotected, and that smarts.
Tryin’ to get even just ’cause I had you gelded?”

Cholla merely snorted, then dropped his nose
to graze.


All right, all right. You’re hungry,”
Ben said, then laughed. “Just occurred to me, Cholla. Imagine what
Edith Pettigrew’d do if she saw me right now. Probably faint dead
away. Course we don’t have to worry about any woman findin’ us
here.”

Ben sighed when a memory came flooding back.
There had been a woman, one who he wished could be with him right
now, and forever.

Cholla snorted again. Bill slid from his
back and patted his shoulder.


You go ahead and eat. I’m gonna
snooze a bit before I grab a bite. We’ve got a couple of hours
before we have to head back.”

Ben found a spot where the grass was
thickest and stretched out on his back, to allow the soft breeze
and sunshine to dry him off.

Sure wish G.W. would stop
pesterin’ me about becomin’ a deputy,
he
thought
. Of course, he’s right about a
couple of things. I’m good when it comes to bein’ a lawman, and I
love the work. But it’s cost me too much, and I’m not talkin’ about
the bullets I’ve taken. The law cost me Madelaine, then Pete. It’s
not gonna take anyone else from me.

A tear trickled down Ben’s
cheek.
Madelaine, the woman he’d loved
more than life itself, even more than Cholla. Madelaine, the fiery
Scots-Irish-French woman he’d first met in San Antonio. Madelaine,
with the emerald green eyes and blazing red hair, who had loved him
with a passion as intense as that flaming hair, a love which he had
returned with just as much passion. Madelaine, who had indeed seen
him naked and swimming Cholla bareback across a lake… and who, when
they returned, ripped off her own clothes and jumped up behind Ben,
joining him as Cholla plunged back into the lake, her arms around
Ben’s waist and her full breasts pushed up against his back,
clinging to him atop the powerfully swimming horse. Madelaine, who
loved him without question… until he remained out on a Ranger
patrol just a few days too long, and returned to find her
gone.


Never thought I could even look at
another woman after Madelaine,” Ben murmured. “Then, when I finally
do think I might be able to love a woman again, that bastard Jim
Danby took Anne from me. Well, there’s two things I know for
certain. I’m never gonna love a woman again, and I’m never gonna
pin on a badge again, neither.”

Ben rolled onto his stomach, cradled his
head in his arms, and caressed by the warm breeze, soft as a
woman’s touch, although he’d never admit that, drifted off to
sleep.

***


Gonna be a good day, Cholla,” Ben
said, early in the morning several days later. He had just rolled
the last wheelbarrow-load of manure and soiled bedding out of the
stable and dumped it on the pile out back. “I’ll get your brushes.
Time to clean you up nice and shiny. Head back inside. I’ll be with
you in a minute.”

He sent the big paint back into the barn
with a gentle slap on the rump.


Mr. Tolliver! I need to speak with
you, right now!”


At least it
was
gonna be a good day,” Ben muttered as
Reverend Dill Hyder, pastor of the nearby Mount Pisgah Methodist
Church, came hurrying up to the back of the stable. “Last thing I
needed was that Bible-thumper complainin’ again.”

Dill Hyder was a Massachusetts transplant,
and had been a rabid abolitionist before the War. He carried
himself with an air of haughty arrogance, not unlike how the
Pharisees of Israel must have appeared, Ben often thought. The
minister wore his hair slicked back, which only emphasized his
thin, bony face, a face accentuated by an extremely long, narrow
nose. More than one person in Wolf Creek had described Hyder as
“horse-faced”, although never in his presence, of course. And Ben
would certainly never have insulted any of his equine friends by
comparing them to Hyder. Ben thought Hyder much more closely
resembled the picture of a moose he had once seen. How the
minister, who was in his early forties, had managed to convince the
much younger and quite attractive Kathleen McCain, Derrick’s
younger sister, to marry him was a mystery to just about everyone
in Wolf Creek. Their marriage did not seem to be a happy one.


Good morning to you, Reverend,” Ben
called back.


It certainly is not a good morning,”
Hyder answered. “The wind is out of the north again, which means it
is blowing the odors from your stable, and its attendant manure
pile, right into my church.”


Thought the church was God’s, not any
one man’s, Reverend,” Ben retorted. He always had a hard time
concealing his distaste for this self-important sky
pilot.


Don’t get uppity with me!” Hyder
answered. “My congregation should not have to put up with that
smell. I’ve asked you before, and I ask you again, what do you
intend to do about it?”


Short of askin’ the Good Lord to have
the wind blow in the opposite direction, or waitin’ until September
or October when the weather cools down, there ain’t a whole lot I
can do about it,” Ben answered. “Besides, it ain’t all that bad.
Can’t figure why it bothers you so much. Last I heard there were
plenty of horses in Massachusetts, too… or does manure from
Northern horses smell like honeysuckle and rose petals?”


Your stable and its odors are keeping
me from doing God’s work!” Hyder was shouting now, as if giving one
of his fire and brimstone sermons. His face was flushed. “Some of
my people leave services before they conclude, rather than putting
up with the stench.”


Then I’d imagine some of Jesus’s
followers left His sermons early also,” Ben replied.


What do you mean by that?”


Well, I figure it this way. Jesus and
His apostles tramped all over the burnin’ hot desert, wearin’ heavy
robes, usually barefoot or with just sandals on their feet. Doesn’t
seem to me they had the chance to take a bath all that often. I’d
imagine they smelled pretty bad most days.”


That is blasphemy!”


I hardly think so, Reverend. I don’t
believe most folks were all that concerned about how Jesus looked
or smelled, but were mostly interested in what He had to say. Don’t
forget, Jesus Himself said not to judge a man by his appearance,
but what is in his heart.”


Don’t try and debate theology with
me, Mr. Tolliver,” Hyder thundered. “You don’t even come to church
on Sunday. You are a godless heathen!”


No, Reverend, I am a Christian, as
are you,” Ben said. “However, unlike you, I don’t believe God
condemns almost everyone to Hell for the slightest transgression.
The God I learned about in Sunday school is a God of love, as is
Jesus, His only-begotten Son. I believe in a kind and merciful God,
full of love and forgiveness, not some vengeful God always ready to
smite down the people He created and loves. I’d imagine your
Hellfire and damnation sermons drive far more people out of your
church before services are over than the smell of horse manure. In
fact, mebbe it’s the smell of all that sulfur and blazin’ brimstone
drivin’ ’em away. As far as me not goin’ to church, I’ve always
found myself closer to God while I’m on the back of a horse, out
enjoyin’ and appreciatin’ all the wonders of God’s handiwork. I
don’t need any two-bit preacher to tell me how great God is, or
that He loves and cares for all creation. That’s not sayin’ if the
right preacher comes along I wouldn’t start goin’ to church come
Sunday mornings. It’s just that you and Reverend Stone, both so
quick to condemn folks, well, neither of you sure ain’t the right
one.”

Hyder swallowed hard, trying to keep his
temper in check.


Clearly there is no point in
continuing this conversation,” he said. “It’s obvious you have no
intention of addressing this problem. However, this is not the end
of the matter. I’ll be speaking to Mayor Henry at the first
opportunity.”


While frequenting his establishment?”
Ben asked, eyes wide with innocence.


How dare you imply… You are clearly
going to Hell,” Hyder said, his voice tight.


I sure hope not, Reverend. But that’s
up to the Lord, not you. In the meantime, if you’re so worried
about my immortal soul, you might try prayin’ for it, rather’n
sendin’ me to Hell on your own. Now, as you said about your work,
you’re keeping me from mine… good, honest work which the Lord has
provided. And let me remind you, Jesus was born in a stable,
perhaps one not much different from this one. I’d imagine there was
even a manure pile out back. Have a nice day, Reverend.”

Ben went back inside his barn, leaving Hyder
staring at his back. Cholla popped his head up from where he was
nibbling on some loose hay and whickered.


You’re right, pard. Day can’t get any
worse after arguin’ with that sanctimonious son of a
bitch.”

Ben was about to find out just how wrong he
was.

***

Ben had finished grooming Cholla and was in
his office, going over his ledgers, when he heard his horse snort
from his stall, then whinny shrilly.


I’m busy, pard,” he shouted. “Just
relax. If I don’t figure out some way to bring in a bit more
business, neither one of us’ll eat next month. We’d better hope
another trail herd hits town, and soon.”


Mr. Tolliver, where are
you?”


Oh, no.” Ben put his head in his
hands and groaned. Just who he didn’t need, Edith
Pettigrew.


Mr. Tolliver,” she called again, more
loudly.


I’m back here in my office, Mrs.
Pettigrew,” Ben answered. “Be with you in a minute.”

He slammed the book shut. No point in
putting off the inevitable. However, before leaving the office, he
made sure his shirt was buttoned up tight.

To Ben’s surprise, when he went into the
aisle he found Edith Pettigrew stroking Cholla’s nose. His horse
was nickering softly with pleasure.


Good morning, Mrs. Pettigrew. What
can I do for you?”

The widow woman ran her gaze up and down Ben
before replying.


Good morning, Mr. Tolliver. I’m not
here for the reason you think. This visit is strictly business. I
would like to purchase a horse and buggy.”


A horse and buggy?” Ben
echoed.


Yes. Perhaps I should explain. When
my dear Seth, may the Lord rest his soul, was alive, we owned some
of the finest horses and carriages in Wolf Creek. Seth taught me
how to drive, even how to harness, and I am quite good at it, if I
do say so myself.”


I see,” Ben said. “Then why did you
sell your horses, if I may ask.”


It seemed like the thing to do at the
time. Without Seth, I just didn’t enjoy long drives in the country.
Then, later, money became an issue. I’m not as wealthy as most
people in Wolf Creek think… at least I wasn’t.”


Mebbe you’d better clarify
that.”


Perhaps I should. I received word
recently that I’ve come into a rather large inheritance. My Aunt
Marie passed away a short time ago. She was married to a man who
made a small fortune selling supplies to the miners in California.
He was killed in a landslide out there, and naturally all his money
went to her. Since they never had any children, and I am my aunt’s
only survivor, I am the sole beneficiary of her estate. I realize
it’s impolite to talk about money, very gauche, don’t you think,
Mr. Tolliver?”


I reckon,” Ben said, with a
shrug.


Anyway, just so you know I am serious
about this purchase, my inheritance is well into six figures. I can
show you a letter from the attorney handling my late aunt’s affairs
if you wish. Most of the money will be kept in trust in St. Louis,
but a good piece of it will be in my account at the Wolf Creek
Savings and Loan within the week.”


That won’t be necessary, Mrs.
Pettigrew. I’m certain you’re a thoroughly honest
woman.”


Of course I am. Also, naturally I
would keep any animal I might purchase here at your stable, Mr.
Tolliver. That would be simpler than having to hire a stableman to
care for a horse at my home. Would that be
satisfactory?”


I’m certain we could work something
out,” Ben said, not quite sure of what to make of this
conversation.


Fine, fine,” Mrs. Pettigrew said. “Do
you have anything which might be suitable for me?”


I believe so, yes,” Ben answered. “I
have a nice gray mare here, quite young, about five years old.
She’s spirited, but very willing and obedient. Dr. Munro was
supposed to purchase her, but changed his mind. I’m afraid the good
doctor doesn’t take to horses as well as he does people. There’s
also a fine buggy which was supposed to be part of the deal. If you
like both, I can offer you a good price.”


I’m not one to haggle,” Mrs.
Pettigrew answered. “If I like the mare, I’m certain any price you
set will be fair. Would I be able to see her now?”


Of course,” Ben said. “She’s in the
back corral. The buggy is parked next to that, so you can see both
at the same time. Just follow me.”

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