Between Hell and Texas (26 page)

“Think I better get the deputies together?” Nolly asked, without taking his eyes off the buckboard.

“Yes, I think you better,” said Lematte, “as much craziness as there’s been going on lately.”

As Karl Nolly left and headed back toward the hotel, Hogo Metacino came walking over leisurely from the other side of the street staring out in the same direction, toward the buckboard, as he adjusted his silver-studded leather gauntlets on his wrists. “Who’s this coming here, Boss?” he asked Lematte.

“I don’t know, Hogo,” said Lematte, “but we’re going to find out.” He nodded at three horses standing at a hitch rail. “Take one of these hay-burners and ride out close enough to see who this is raising all the dust.”

“Whose horses are these?” Metacino asked, looking the animals up and down.

“I don’t give a damn,” said Lematte. “We’re borrowing one in our capacity as peace officers.”

“Sure thing then.” Metacino grinned. He unhitched one of the horses, stepped up into the saddle, and heeled the animal out toward the approaching wagon. Lematte watched him ride out fast, three hundred yards, then turn short of reaching the wagon and race back. As he watched Metacino return, Nolly came back from the hotel with a perplexed look on his face.

“Where’s Ash?” Lematte asked without facing him. He stared at Metacino as he spoke to Nolly.

“He’s shaving!” said Nolly. “Told me he’d be along when he’s done.”

“Did you tell him
why
I sent for him?” Lematte asked.

“I told him there was a wagon and a rider coming to town raising a lot of dust. He said to tell you that if he don’t get his shave first thing in the morning he’ll be cross and irritable all day long.”

Lematte gave Nolly a strange look.

Nolly shrugged. “I’m saying what he told me to tell you. If you ask me, he’s not—”

“I didn’t ask you, Nolly,” said Lematte cutting him off, seeing Metacino ride in hard and slide the horse to a halt in front of the boardwalk.

“Boss, it’s that gunman, Crayton Dawson, and a couple of other men,” Metacino said. “Looks like they’ve got the whole Double D crew riding a quarter of a mile behind them.” Metacino dropped down from the saddle and spun the horse’s reins around the hitch rail.

“Damn it,” said Lematte, “I figured it might be Dawson.

“Why do you suppose he has the Double D boys riding so far behind him?” Nolly asked.

Lematte pulled a fresh cigar from his lapel pocket. He bit the end off of it, blew it away, and adjusted the cigar in his mouth as he searched for a match. “It’s his way of showing he’s not coming here looking for trouble,” he said.

“Good,” said Nolly. “If he’s wanting to talk, maybe we can all get something settled between us without any bloodshed.”

“Ha!” said Lematte, “If you think he’s wanting to do that, you’re easily fooled. He’s got something up his sleeve. Keep your eyes open.”

“I always keep my eyes open,” said Nolly, looking at him curiously. “But I don’t think he’s got anything up his sleeve, Sheriff. If you want my opinion on the matter.”

Lematte ignored his comment and said to him and Metacino, “Both of you round up the men. I’ll see what Dawson has to say. Tell everybody to be prepared for anything he does. He’s full of surprises.”

As the two men turned and hurried away to gather the rest of the deputies, Metacino said to Nolly, “Is Lematte going
loco
because of this gunman?”

“It’s sure starting to look that way,” said Nolly. “He can’t seem to put things to rest between them. I don’t think Dawson wants anything but to be left alone. Lematte can’t seem to get a grip on how to
do
that!”

In the window of his hotel room overlooking the street, Mad Albert Ash stood back far enough to keep from being noticed as he looked out on the street below. Seeing the wagon roll into town with the two canvas covered bodies in its bed and Dawson riding alongside it, he smiled to himself and murmured quietly, “
Dalton
, You beat all these eyes have ever seen.” He wiped the remaining streaks of shaving soap from his cheeks and tossed the towel aside. “I’ll just let you and the good sheriff jaw things over while I get dressed.” His smile widened. “Nothing like a dramatic entrance I always say…”

On the boardwalk, Sheriff Lematte spread his coat open, making sure Dawson could clearly see his badge. A few townsmen began to gather cautiously, eyeing the covered bodies as soon as Dawson brought Stony to a halt out front of the restaurant. Beside him, Max Furry stopped the wagon. Lematte
stood tall and silent and looked out at Dawson, then down at the wagon. He saw a shotgun in the hands of each of the Furry brothers. Dawson’s right hand rested on the big Colt on his hip.

“We’re not here looking for trouble with you, Sheriff,” Dawson said, seeing him eye the two shotguns. “We’re here to pick up the bodies of Gains Bouchard and his men…and drop these boys off to you.” As he spoke, Eldon Furry reached a gloved hand back and flipped a corner of the canvas, uncovering the blue-white faces of Cleveland Ellis and Moon Braden.

Seeing his deputies coming across the street from different directions, Lematte grew bold. “You killed them both!” he said, holding his hand poised near his gun butt as if it took all his effort to keep from grabbing his pistol. “I heard that you gave them some trouble, cost them their jobs at the Double D!”

The Furry brothers waited in silence, their thumbs across the shotgun hammers.

Dawson said calmly, “Yes, I had some words with them awhile back out at the Double D, but nothing came of it. I didn’t kill them.” He stared coldly in Lematte’s eyes. “I would have killed them though, had I came home and found them waiting to ambush me, the way they had planned.”

“Then what happened to them?” Lematte asked impatiently. Dawson turned slightly and nodded down, first at Cleveland Ellis then at Moon Braden. “This one blew his pardner’s brains out, then he hung chin on a tree limb trying to get away from me and the Double D boys.” He nodded toward the distant sheen of settling dust. “They’re out there waiting for us to bring back the bodies for burial.”

Lematte bit the inside of his lip, not seeing any sign of Mad Albert Ash, and not wanting to push a fight with Dawson and the Double D boys right then. Finally, as the deputies came gathering around in the street, half circling Dawson and the buckboard, staring down at the bodies, he said, “All right, Dawson. You’ll find Gains Bouchard and his
gunmen’s
bodies in the shed behind the livery barn.” He turned to his deputies and said, “Get Ellis and Braden out of there. Take them to the barbershop; get them looked after.”

“This is the third man of ours he’s killed!” said Hogo Metacino, “and we ain’t going to do nothing about it?”

“He says he didn’t kill these two!” Lematte snapped at the deputy. “Now unless you’d like to take over my job, get these bodies out of there!”

“You heard him, men,” said Karl Nolly, stepping forward, throwing off the large sheet of canvas.

The deputies stepped in, Hogo Metacino grumbling under his breath, and lifted the bodies from the wagon bed.

Dawson gave Lematte a questioning look, saying, “What’s he talking about, the third man of yours I’ve killed?”

“Dawson,” said Lematte, “I could arrest you right now for the murder of Jewel Higgs. But since I’m so busy and it would take all my time to prove you did it, I’m not going forward with any charges against you right now.” He looked out toward where the Double D cowhands were waiting for Dawson. “I believe in holding down trouble whenever I can. If you stay out of my town, away from my deputies, and keep your nose out of Somos Santos’s
business, I’m going to overlook Higgs’s murder.”

“If you’re talking about one of the three men I caught spying on me awhile back, Lematte,” said Dawson, “he was alive and well when I let him go.” Dawson looked around among the deputies and said boldly, “If your deputies say I killed him, they’re lying through their teeth.”

Lematte said quickly, “The two deputies with him said
somebody
shot him with a rifle. You were the only person out there.”

“If I were you I’d be asking those deputies if they had anything against the man,” said Dawson. “Maybe they’re the ones who killed him. Next time I catch anybody sneaking around where they don’t belong, there won’t be any doubt who shot them. It’ll be me.”

“Those men were out there in their official capacity, Dawson, keeping an eye out for any undesirables headed toward town,” said Lematte.

“They had no business out there doing what they were doing, and you know it, Lematte,” said Dawson. “Send them again. Badge or no badge, I’m going to send them back to you facedown.”

“Careful, Dawson,” said Lematte. “You just made a threat on officers of the law.”

“That I did,” said Dawson. “I just gave all of you a warning; now let’s see if you’re smart enough to listen to it.” He heeled Stony forward slowly. Max Furry jiggled the reins to the team of wagon horses, sending them forward as well.

Feeling his face redden in embarrassment, Lematte stood watching in silence, seeing Dawson and the wagon turn in a wide loop and head toward the
street alongside the livery barn. Stepping up beside Lematte, seeing the anger and humiliation on his face, Karl Nolly said, “Let it go, Sheriff. He’ll take the dead and leave.”

Lematte snapped his head around, facing Nolly with rage in his eyes. “Did I ask you for any of your half-assed opinions, Nolly?”

“No, Sheriff,” Nolly said, backing off. “You sure didn’t.”

“Then kindly keep your stupid mouth shut!” Lematte hissed at him. “I know how to handle this gunslinger!” He looked all around wildly, then asked, “Where the hell is Ash?”

“Still shaving,” Nolly said bluntly.

With the bodies of Gains Bouchard and the others in the buckboard, Max Furry reined the wagon back out onto the street, following Dawson until he stopped Stony out front of the Silver Seven Saloon. Across the street, Lematte still stood watching, Nolly standing back behind him, and most of the deputies gathered in front of the boardwalk. “What’s he doing now?” Lematte asked no one in particular.

“Maybe he wants a couple of drinks before he leaves town,” said Nolly, working at keeping the bitterness out of his voice.

“He’s going to that whore!” said Lematte. “Can you believe this? Brazen as all get-out!” He looked toward the hotel again. “What the hell is keeping Ash?”

“Maybe he needed to trim his toenails too,” said Nolly.

But as they looked, Mad Albert Ash stepped out of the door of the hotel and stood for a moment, smiling, taking in a long, deep breath of morning air.

“It’s about damn time,” said Lematte.

“What is it you want Mad Albert to do, Sheriff?” Nolly asked, taking a chance on getting yelled at again.

“Lematte didn’t answer again, as if having to think it over first. Finally he said, “I want to see Dawson show me some respect.”

“Good luck,” said Nolly.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Lematte asked.

“It means, Dawson has no respect for you, Sheriff. He’s got no respect for
you
, me, or
any
of us. So what? To hell with him. Let’s put him out of our mind and go on with business.”

“You’re starting to show me a side of you I don’t like, Nolly,” said Lematte. “You’re acting just a little too weak to suit me.”

“Sheriff, I’m just trying to go on with business, not let this man get under my skin. This ain’t worth all the—”

Nolly tried to continue, but Lematte cut in, saying, “Come on, let’s see if meeting Albert Ash face-to-face will take some starch out of Dawson’s attitude.”

Leaving the Furry boys in the wagon with their shotguns ready, Dawson went inside the Silver Seven Saloon and walked straight across the floor to the stairs. “Hey, you can’t go up there!” the bartender called out, seeing him start walking up the stairs. But Dawson only gave him a sidelong look without slowing his pace. The bartender shrugged, saying to himself, “So, what the hell?” Then he went back to polishing shot glasses with a clean white bar towel.

Dawson didn’t have to knock. Suzzette had seen him through the window as he rode into town. Her ribs and stomach were bruised and sore. Her face was swollen and blue, with a bandage over the cut
left by the pistol barrel. But she had hurried as fast as she could and gotten herself and Angel Andrews dressed. She met Dawson at the door, ducking her face slightly, although unable to conceal her injuries from him.

“What the—” Dawson was taken aback by the sight of her. Dawson looked at her, then past her to where Angel Andrews sat on the side of the bed, dressed and wearing a thin traveling duster. At her feet sat their luggage. “Who did this?” Dawson demanded. But he really didn’t have to ask.

“Let’s just go, Cray,” Suzzette said, her voice sounding shaky. “All I want is to get out of this town and forget I was ever here.”

Dawson asked, “What about your baby, Suzzette? Is everything all right?”

She had a guarded expression as she replied, “Yes, I’m all right…or I will be, as soon as I get away from here.”

Dawson looked at Angel Andrews, seeing her bruises, seeing that she seemed to be addled and unaware of what was going on around her. “What about her? Is she all right?”

“She’s coming too,” said Suzzette. “Is that all right? I can’t leave her here. Next time he might kill her.”

Dawson felt himself hesitate, but only for a second. Then he said, “Sure, she’s coming too.” He stepped over and picked up the luggage. Turning, he said to Suzzette, “I wasn’t able to find you a place. You’re going to stay with us, Carmelita and me that is.”

“Have you talked this over with her?” Suzzette asked.

“Yes, we talked about it on the way here,” said
Dawson. “It’s all right with Carmelita, you staying with us. She even helped me fix up my old family house for you, but some of Lematte’s men burnt it down.”

“Is that who the two bodies were?” Suzzette asked. “I saw you ride in with two bodies in the wagon. Is that the two men who burned it? Did you kill them?”

“Yes, that’s them,” said Dawson, “but it’s a long story how they died.” He looked Angel Andrews up and down, then said to Suzzette, “Can you help her along? We need to get out of here before Lematte or his men do something else crazy.”