The Circuit Rider (10 page)

T
he
man was dead.

Tower
had not heard him breathe, so he had checked his pulse and found none.

He
made the sign of the cross.

Tower
sat on his cot and prayed. He prayed for the man’s soul, and for his own, and
he asked God to forgive him for what he’d done.

Moments
later, Tower heard the door to the sheriff’s office open and the sound of boots
on the floor. He heard Ectors sit down in his wooden chair behind his desk.

“Sheriff,
you might want to come in here,” Tower said.

He
heard the older man get to his feet, and, moments later, the sheriff appeared
in the doorway to the cell. He glanced down at the man on the floor.

“What
the hell?” he said.

“He’s
dead,” Tower said.

Ectors
drew his gun and pointed it at Tower.

“Stay
right there,” he said.

Tower
looked around him. Where exactly was he going to go?

The
sheriff drew a pair of cuffs from his belt and passed them through the bars to
Tower.

“Put
one on your wrist and the other on that ring in back.”

Tower
glanced behind him. There was a black iron ring bolted into the wall. He went
to the back of the cell and locked one cuff on his wrist and the other on the
ring. The cuffs snapped into place.

Ectors
slipped his pistol back into his holster, unlocked the cell door, and knelt by
the dead man.

“What
happened?” he said, his voice disgusted.

“He
attacked me, tried to choke me,” Tower explained. “One minute, he was on his
cot and I was on mine. The next thing I knew, he was on top of me, trying to
choke the life out of me. I punched him, and when he fell, he cracked his head
on the edge of the cot and snapped his neck. He was probably dead before he hit
the floor.”

Ectors
stood.

“This
is bad,” he said.

“Who
is he?” Tower asked.

“Don’t
know. Never seen him around town before. Probably a cowboy from one of the
herds bein’ held outside town.”

“What
are you going to do?”

“Don’t
know,” Ectors said.

He
sighed and looked at Tower.

“For
a preacher, you sure cause a lot of trouble,” he finally said.

D
usk
arrived with Bird as she walked her Appaloosa down Prosperity’s main street.

A
few folks were out on the sidewalk, finishing their affairs for the day,
picking up the last order of yarn from the dry goods store, leaving the saloon,
or just arriving at the saloon for the evening’s festivities.

A
few drops of rain tapped on the brim of Bird’s Stetson. She nudged her horse
forward toward the jail.

Bird
noticed a figure standing in front of the sheriff’s office.

It
was Ectors.

“Visiting
hours are over,” he said.

She
stopped the Appaloosa. The rain had begun to pick up, and the early evening sky
was growing darker by the minute.

“When
do they open up again?” she said.

Ectors
shook his head. “Not sure they’re going to, unless you’re his attorney. That
boy seems to make a lot of trouble, doesn’t he?”

Bird
sensed something different in Ectors’s voice.

“What
happened?” she said.

“’Fraid
I’m not at liberty to discuss the situation right now, ma’am. Feel free to
check back in the morning, when I’ve had a little time to think on it.”

Bird
recognized a standoff when she saw one.

She
nodded. She had a brief thought that the law most likely required her to report
a crime. She knew about the dead woman in the creek, but there was something
about the way the sheriff was looking at her that erased any desire to share
the information with him.

“I
never did get your name,” the sheriff said.

Bird
sighed because she knew what would happen.

“Bird,”
she said.

Ectors
raised his eyebrows at her.

“Bird
Hitchcock?” he said.

“Yes,
indeed.”

“Well,
I’ll be damned. I thought you were dead,” Ectors said.

“I
think quite a few folks would prefer that to be true, but so far I’ve managed
to disappoint them.”

“Huh,
Bird Hitchcock and a preacher? How’d that come about?”

“The
church doesn’t send out circuit riders without protection, especially seeing as
how they don’t carry guns. So that man you have in there is my responsibility.”

“Well,
I can tell you, that man doesn’t need protecting. If anything, looks like
people need protection from him.”

Bird
tried one more time. “Still not going to tell me what’s going on?” she said.

“Give
me the night to think on it,” Ectors said.

She
tugged on the Appaloosa’s reins.

“I’ll
be in the saloon if you change your mind.”

T
he
Day’s End was packed, but crowds always had a way of parting for Bird
Hitchcock, even when the assembled mass didn’t know who she was.

Maybe
it was the way she didn’t pause when she entered, but walked purposefully to
the bar and ordered a whiskey.

She
held up a finger after the bartender poured her first shot, which she tossed
down, then nodded for him to hit the refill.

“Just
leave the bottle,” she said, having savored the whiskey as the fumes warmed
her. She put her money on the bar and said to the bartender, “What’s the
occasion here?”

“Big
doings tomorrow,” he said. “The last of the herds will be in, and we have a
little Prosperity celebration. Have some singers and dancers from back east who
put on a big show for the cowboys.”

“And
take most of their money in the process, I’m sure,” she said.

“Hey,
they’re grown men — they know what they’re doing,” he said.

“I’ve
known plenty of grown men who have no idea what they’re doing,” she said.

The
bartender chuckled. “I suppose you’re right, ma’am.”

He
threw a small towel over his shoulder and walked to the other end of the bar. Bird
turned and looked out at the crowded saloon. A lot of cowboys, fresh from their
baths and shaves, fire in their eyes from long days and months on the trail,
ready to make it all worth it, have their fun before they headed back to their
homes in Texas or Louisiana or wherever they were from.

She
felt the eyes of some of the men on her and knew she was always an odd
attraction in a saloon. A woman, but not
that kind
of woman.

A
lot of the men didn’t care for having a nonworking woman in the saloon; others
seemed to enjoy the sight. Most just ignored her.

She
preferred the ones who ignored her.

When
the young cowboy with a shock of bright-red hair approached her, she instantly
knew he was not in the group that would ignore her.

“Hey,
did you ride in with that preacher?” he said. “The one locked up over in the
jail?”

Bird
shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know anything about a preacher in jail. Who would
come up with such a strange idea?”

The
cowpuncher looked confused for a moment.

“Oh,”
he said. “I was hoping to find out if it’s true.”

“If
what’s true?” Bird said.

“That
he raped a woman and then killed some drunk cowboy who’d been thrown into the cell
with him.”

E
ctors
had seen to the removal of the dead man. Now, he pulled up a wooden stool
outside Mike Tower’s cell, placed his hands on his knees, and leveled his
gaze at him.

“I
think it’s time for you to tell me just what is going on,” he said.

Tower
shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t explain something I don’t understand.”

“So
within one twenty-four-hour period one woman accuses you of rape and a man
tries to kill you. You don’t find that a bit odd?”

Tower
took a deep breath. “I find it a lot more than odd. Shocking. Frightening. But
most of all, confusing. I’ve never seen that woman before in my life, and I
have no idea who that man was who attacked me.”

“Why
do I think you’re not on the level, son?” Ectors said.

“I
don’t know why you don’t believe me. I’m telling the truth.”

Ectors
sighed. “It’s not that I think you’re lying — I just don’t think you’re being
completely honest. Like there’s more to the story. I can tell you one thing,
you don’t look like a preacher.”

“What’s
that supposed to mean?”

“I’m
just sayin’,” the sheriff said, spreading his hands wide. “Most preachers I’ve
met are either real old men or men who make a living through their talking. You
ain’t old, and you don’t talk much. I think you are, or were, a man who was
used to letting his actions speak for him. And you surely proved that
recently.”

Tower
stood.

“You
know and I know that not a single person on this earth can get through very
long without making some enemies,” Tower said. “I’m sure I’ve made my fair
share. But I can tell you I never laid a finger on that woman, and I don’t
believe I’ve ever met that man who just attacked me. Yes, I fought back, but I
didn’t mean to kill him.”

He
could tell the sheriff more, a lot more, about his past, but he figured that
wouldn’t help matters. Besides, practically every man in the West had been in
the War between the States and probably done some things they weren’t very
proud of. But this was neither the time nor the place to start talking about
what he’d done. Besides, he didn’t think all of this had anything to do with
his past. It was about something else, but what, he wasn’t sure.

Sheriff
Ectors got to his feet and picked up the stool with one hand.

“Well,
Preacher, I don’t know what to make of you. I believe that
you
believe
you’re telling the truth. What the truth actually is or may be, well, hopefully
we’ll find out. In the meantime, it’s my job to keep you safe in here, and
that’s what I intend to do.”

He
walked out, shut the door to the cell area, and threw the bolt.

The
sound echoed through Mike Tower’s cell.