Town Tamers (18 page)

T
he fifth person on the list had, apparently unknown to Cecilia Preston, left town. He’d been staying at a boardinghouse. The woman who ran it said that the man had a great fear of Arthur Studevant but had never told her why. She suspected it had something to do with the time he came back beaten bloody. She was sorry, but that was all she knew.

As the carriage rattled toward the sixth stop, Noona fingered the dagger she always had strapped up her sleeve.

“I bet those tin stars of Studevant’s were to blame.”

“Yep,” Asa said.

“You’re not saying much today.”

“Do I need to?”

“No,” Noona said. “You don’t.”

Bedelia Huttingcot was a Southern belle who lived in an apartment over a general store where she now worked.

Bedelia was in her twenties and had been employed at one of Studevant’s bawdy houses until one night she decided she didn’t want to anymore. She made the mistake of telling the madam who ran the house for Studevant, and the next morning Marshal Pollard and Deputy Agar showed up at her door.

“They told me I couldn’t quit until Studevant said I could, and I told them to go to hell. That’s when the marshal pulled out a folding knife and did this to me.” Bedelia touched the jagged scar that had made a ruin of her left cheek.

Their seventh stop turned out to be the cemetery.

Asa turned to the driver. “Are you sure this is the right address?”

“It’s the one you gave me.”

Asa looked at the sheet of paper. Cecilia had written a name next to the address. “We’re looking for Annie Spencer.”

The cemetery barely had a hundred graves, the town was so new, and the headstone was easy to find.

“Annie Spencer, sure enough,” Noona read the inscription. “Born November first, 1877. Died June twentieth, 1887.” She paused. “About a year ago.”

“She was ten,” Asa said.

“How does a little girl tie into this?”

“Let’s go ask.”

Cecilia Preston must have been watching out her window, because she opened the door before the carriage came to a stop in front of the mansion. “Well?” she said, beckoning them in.

“That was some list,” Asa said.

“That last one,” Noona said, “Annie Spencer. Why was she on it?”

“Her father worked at the mine. He was one of the few who spoke out against Studevant when Studevant took it over. One night someone set fire to their cabin. Her father and mother were horribly burned, and the girl died. They’ve since left town.”

“Only ten years old,” Noona said.

Cecilia ushered them to the parlor and bid them sit while she brought refreshments.

“I don’t want any, thanks,” Asa said.

“Me, neither,” Noona said.

Cecilia sat across from them and clasped her hands.

“Was it enough? Will you do it?”

“I’m pondering on it,” Asa said.

“Is it the money? Five thousand isn’t enough? I was told that a thousand is your usual fee, but if five thousand isn’t enough, I’ll pay more.”

“It’s not the money.”

“Then what?”

“When I said I was pondering on it,” Asa clarified, “I meant I was pondering how to go about it.”

“What’s to ponder? Taming towns is what you do. It’s why I sent for you.”

“This wouldn’t be a usual taming. The town didn’t send for us. You did. Arthur Studevant is looked up to as its leading citizen. He has the law in his pocket, and more power than God.”

“He’s mortal like everybody else,” Cecilia said. “All you have to do is walk up to him and point that shotgun of yours at his face, and it’s over.”

“And spend the rest of my days behind bars,” Asa said. “No thank you.”

“Are you saying it can’t be done?”

“It can be done, but it has to be done right.”

“Just right,” Noona said. “Or we’ll both be wearing prison stripes.”

“You’ll do it, though?” Cecilia anxiously asked. “You’ll bring an end to all this horror?”

Asa looked at Noona and Noona nodded. “Or die trying,” he said.

A
sa and Noona no sooner walked into the Glacier Hotel than Marshal Pollard came upon them from the right and Deputy Agar from the left. Two other men wearing deputy badges were over by the front desk.

“Been waiting for you,” Marshal Pollard said.

“Wasn’t here,” Asa said.

“You’ve been gone all day. Mind telling me where you’ve been?”

Noona said, “We were seeing the sights. Your town is the kind a body’s not likely to forget.”

“It is scenic,” Marshal Pollard said. He reached inside his jacket. “Have something for you.” Holding them out, he said, “Can you guess what they are?”

“I don’t need to guess. I can see them,” Asa said. “They’re train tickets.”

“That they are,” Pollard said, “first class all the way to Texas. The train leaves at eight in the morning, and we expect you to be on it.”

“We?”

“Some of my deputies and me will be here at seven-thirty to take you to the station.”

“We know where the train station is,” Noona said.

“We wouldn’t want you to get lost getting there,” Marshal Pollard said, and Deputy Agar snickered. Pollard reached out and gripped Asa’s wrist, turned Asa’s arm so his hand was palm up, and slapped the tickets into it. “Here you go.”

“You shouldn’t ought to touch people unless they want you to,” Asa said.

“Just doing my job,” Marshal Pollard said.

Asa raised the tickets. “You pay for these your own self?”

“I did not,” Pollard said. “They’re a gift from the big man, himself. Arthur Studevant bought them for you. To show there’s no hard feelings over you coming all this way to tame a town that doesn’t need taming.”

“Is that why?” Noona said.

Marshal Pollard gestured at Agar and the other deputies, and they moved to the glass doors. Pollard looked back. “Be sure to be ready by seven-thirty. If you’re not, we’ll have to help you along.”

“So this is what being run out of a town feels like?” Asa said.

Pollard laughed. “You’re not being run out so much as being invited out. And you have to admit, those tickets are damned decent of Mr. Studevant.”

“It’s nice to know he can be decent,” Asa said.

Noona waited for the glass doors to close to remark, “I can’t get over how brazen they are about it.”

“They wear the badges,” Asa said.

“And they work for God Almighty.”

Asa smiled a cold smile. “They figure they can get away with just about anything, and have been for a good long while.”

“Nothing lasts forever, Pa. You taught me that.”

Asa slid the tickets into his slicker. “It’s almost suppertime. Are you hungry?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Do you know what I’d like to do?”

“I’d like to do it, too.”

They took their time, strolling along as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Noona looked in a few shop windows and Asa bought tobacco for his pipe. By the time they reached the Poetry House, the sun was relinquishing its reign to the fading gray of twilight.

They were about to go in when Asa glanced at the café and said, “I’ll be switched.”

Byron was waiting on a table. He wore an apron, carried a wooden tray, and was setting glasses of water down. He gave a bow to the customers and went in.

“From serving whiskey to serving soup,” Noona said. “Is that a step up or a step down?”

“Be nice.”

“Listen to the kettle,” Noona said.

They settled into a corner table, and it wasn’t a minute later that Byron hustled out and approached the table, smiling. When he saw them, his smile faded.

“You two haven’t left yet?”

“It’s a pleasure to see you, too, son,” Asa said.

“If you’ve come to talk me into going back to Texas with you, you’ve wasted your time. I like it here, and I’m staying.”

“May we see a menu?” Noona asked. “We haven’t eaten yet, and I’m hungry.”

Byron placed a menu in front of each of them and stood back. “What are you up to?”

“Wanted to see you, is all,” Asa said.

“As loco as it sounds,” Noona said, “I miss you.”

“I refuse to go back.”

“No interest in one last job?” Noona asked.

“Didn’t you just hear me? I’m staying, and that’s final.”

“That’s good. Because the job isn’t in Texas or anywhere else,” Noona said. “It’s right here.”

Clearly startled, Byron came around the table and crouched. “What in God’s name are you talking about? Ordville doesn’t need taming.”

“If you only knew,” Asa said.

“What I know,” Byron said, “is that the marshal didn’t send for you, and there isn’t a bad man to be found anywhere in town.”

“If you only knew,” Asa repeated himself.

“We can use your help, brother,” Noona said. “We have to do it smart, and you’re better at smart than both of us.”

“You
are
loco,” Byron said. “The both of you. You can’t tame a town that doesn’t need to be tamed.”

“They’ve given us until morning to get out of Dodge,” Asa said. “You have until then to make up your mind.”

“There’s nothing to make. I don’t want any part of this. They haven’t asked me to leave.”

“We need you,” Noona said. “We’re staying at the Glacier Hotel if you change your mind.”

“Consarn you both, no.” Byron stood. “I’ll be back to take your order, but that’s all. Not another word about town taming. I’m through with that for good.” He walked off in a huff.

Asa sighed and his shoulders sagged. “About what I expected.”

“We do it our own selves, then?” Noona asked.

“We do,” Asa said.

B
yron was incensed by their gall. After he’d made it as plain as he could possibly make it that he was done with town taming for now and forever, they showed up to persuade him different.

He worked the rest of his shift in a funk. He tried not to think of it; he tried to dwell on the slice of heaven his life would be after they were gone.

And on Olivia.

Byron was off at seven, and she was to meet him there. They were attending the theater together at eight, a production of Shakespeare’s
Romeo and Juliet
, the first of what he hoped would be endless nights in her company.

He couldn’t think of a more fitting play. He’d only known her a short while but he was, as poets liked to say, smitten. He imagined himself on his knee, reciting poetry to her. How romantic that would be.

At five minutes to eight, Byron came out to clean the tables, only to have his way barred by a pair of badges.

“Remember me, boy?” Marshal Pollard said. “And Deputy Agar, here?”

“I don’t forget much,” Byron said.

Pollard slid a hand into his jacket and held something out. “Take it.”

“What’s this?” Byron said, even though he could see what it was.

“A train ticket. I gave one to your father and your sister. All three of you are to be on the one that’s leaving at eight in the morning.”

“But I don’t want to go. I like it here. I told you that, remember?”

“You did.”

“Then why the ticket?”

Marshal Pollard hooked a thumb in his gun belt. “It could be I don’t believe you about that poetry business. It could be I think your pa is up to something or he wouldn’t have spent all day nosing around town.”

“He did what?”

“Things get back to me,” Pollard said.

Byron smiled and began, “I can assure you—”

Pollard poked Byron in the chest. “I’m not finished. It could be that even if you were telling us the truth, it doesn’t matter. Someone wants you to leave, so you’re leaving.”

“I’m free to do as I please.”

“Think so? Then don’t be on that train tomorrow, and see what happens.”

“You can’t go around threatening people.”

The marshal tapped his badge. “See this? I can do any goddamn thing I please. It would please me at the moment to pistol-whip you but there are people around.”

Boiling with anger, Byron was about to say, “I’d like to see you try.” But he held his tongue.

“Be on that train, boy,” Pollard said, and he and his deputy wheeled around and stalked off.

“Well, hell,” Byron said. He stared at the ticket and went to rip it up but didn’t.

“What’s that you’re holding, handsome?”

Byron turned so fast, he nearly tripped. “Olivia,” he blurted. “You’re early.” He shoved the ticket into a pants pocket. “It’s nothing.”

Her dress was gorgeous, the height of evening fashion for young ladies. Lace at her throat and in the trim on her sleeves lent a touch of elegance. “Are you all right? You look rattled.”

“No, no,” Byron said. “Just hurrying to get done on time.”

“Wasn’t that the marshal and one of his deputies you were just talking to?”

“They had some coffee,” Byron lied.

Olivia smiled and touched his chin. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

Byron experienced the oddest sensation. As he went about turning in his apron and hastening to his room at the back so he could change, he felt as if he were floating on air.

Olivia Rabineau was the kind of woman he’d only ever dared to dream about being with. The kind he imagined himself reading poetry to. The kind he imagined holding in his arms and lavishing ardent kisses on.

He supposed he was making much more of it than there was. It was only their first time out. But he took meeting her as an omen. Perhaps, just perhaps, more would come of it.

“Damn my romantic soul anyhow,” Byron said with a grin as he rushed out.

Myron happened to be coming around the corner and nearly bumped into him. “Look at you,” he exclaimed with a smile. “Off for a night on the town with the fair maiden.”

“Fair doesn’t do her justice,” Byron said.

“As Shelley put it,” Myron said, and quoted his favorite poet, “‘Spirit of beauty, thou dost consecrate with thine own hues all thou dost shine upon.’”

“That’s her,” Byron said, and not to be outdone, he quoted Lord Byron, “‘She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies. And all that’s best of dark and light meet in her aspect and her eyes.’”

Myron laughed. “I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to meet a kindred spirit.”

Byron smoothed his jacket. “I hope she finds me as wonderful.”

Clapping Byron on the arm, Myron said, “Off you go, my friend. And may she be taken by you to her very heart.”

It was the most heavenly night of Byron’s existence. Olivia was bright and dazzling and warm. They discussed poets and poetry and sat close in the theater and listened to one of the greatest works of one of the greatest geniuses in the English language, and life couldn’t be any more perfect.

Afterward, Byron walked her home. Arm in arm, they traveled the quiet streets, and if they passed another human being, Byron was blind to their existence. All he saw was Olivia. All he heard was Olivia.

And when at last they came to the gate to her house, parting truly was sweet sorrow.

“I had the most marvelous time,” Olivia said, taking her hand in his. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s I who should thank you,” Byron said. “You’ve given me a memory I’ll treasure forever.”

Olivia glanced at the house and then quickly rose onto the tips of her toes and kissed him fleetingly on the mouth. “Until the next time.”

Byron watched until the door closed behind her. As he turned and headed up the street, he felt that for the first time in his life, everything was right with the world.

Then he came to a corner lit by a streetlight, and out of the darkness around him came Marshal Pollard and Deputy Agar.