The Last Good Day

by John L. Lansdale

  “You were, but you’re right,” B.W. said. “I do drink too much and I know it. Can’t seem to know when to quit till after it’s too late.”

  “And I got a mouth problem. Still trying to be a major.”

  “Why don’t you two knock it off and I’ll put some flapjacks on,” Tommy said.

  “Yeah, think I’d like that,” B.W. said. “Not as good as biscuits but pretty good if you get ‘em done.”

  “Did you mean what you said, B.W.?” Rance said.

  “‘Bout what?”

  “Not bein’ partners.”

  “No, got my own mouth problems,” B.W. said. “Was just mad.”

  “You want those flapjacks?” Tommy asked.

  B.W. and Rance nodded yes.

  Tommy fixed the flapjacks. Rance poured himself and B.W. a cup of coffee, handed Tommy his canteen and they ate in silence, then saddled up. B.W. tied the money on his horse and they rode on, letting their horses mosey along at their own speed, stopping to nibble on the grass from time to time. It was high noon before anyone said anything.

  “You two still mad?” Tommy said.

  B.W. and Rance didn’t say anything but shook their head no.

  A little further down the trail they came to a sign that read: Texarkana two miles.

  “Long way to come to do something useful,” B.W. said.

  “Only thing we have,” Rance said.

  “You make a good point, partner,” B.W. said, looking at Rance.

  Rance smiled. He got the message. “Maybe a cattle train in Texarkana we can catch to Traversville. Could be there tomorrow or the next day.”

  “I come to like this horse, want to keep him. Named him Dusty,” Tommy said.

  “Right good name,” Rance said.

  “Your horse got a name, B.W.?” Tommy asked.

  “Yeah…Horse.”

  19

  Back in Milberg, the soldiers that usually came in for dinner every evening at the eatery quit showing up and the local trade had dropped off considerably, something was going on but Julie didn’t know what until Colonel Hatch came in a few days later. He stopped inside the door at attention like his knees wouldn’t bend, took off his hat and placed a hand on the handle of his sword.

  “What can I do for you, colonel?” Julie said.

  “Miss Julie, the soldiers won’t be coming in anymore. I have posted a bulletin at the fort making your place off limits and strongly suggested to the townspeople that they abstain from patronizing your establishment, as well. The government has determined you’re a scarlet woman and a southern sympathizer helping the enemy and a bad influence on the local people.”

  “That’s insane,” she said. “You long-winded bastard.”

  “You just demonstrated why I put out the order,” Colonel Hatch said. “Our former marshal believed you knew about Major Allison’s jail break and helped plan it. The major and that Indian are combatants working for an underground Confederate organization to start another war and you’re a part of it.”

  “I’ve never heard such garbage in all my life,” Julie said.

  “I don’t have proof but I think he’s right.”

  “This is my home,” Julie said. “I was raised here. All I’m doin’ is tryin’ to make a livin’ and my private life is my own business.”

  “Might be better all-around if you find another town,” Hatch said. “As the magistrate under marshal law, I could close you down for good. I would suggest you sell the place before you go broke.”

  “I see, and I bet you know someone that would just happen to buy it.”

  “I do. A mister Walter Peabody has expressed interest in it and will give you a fair price.”

  “What’s your cut, colonel?”

  “I hope you don’t mean that, Miss Julie. I could have you arrested for those kinds of comments.”

  “With people like you in charge, colonel, it’s going to take forever for this county to come back together.”

  “I’ll send Mr. Peabody by to talk to you tomorrow. Best you take his offer.”

  “Colonel, most of the people around here have known me all my life. I don’t think they will let you get away with running me out of town.”

  “I would think different with that bastard baby,” Hatch said.

  “You are a scoundrel,” she said. “But I’ll do it on one condition.”

  “What’s that?” he said.

  “You drop all the charges against Rance Allison, B.W. and the boy. I’ll take Mr. Peabody’s offer and leave.”

  “I could take you to jail for threatening me.”

  “I’m not threatening you, colonel, I’m giving you facts. I can stir up a hornets nest for you with the people in this town if I have a mind to, more trouble than you can imagine.”

  He stared at her, wiggled his sword handle, took off his hat and wiped his brow. “For the sake of order I’ll do it,” he said, “If you sell to Mr. Peabody tomorrow, don’t discuss any of the details with anyone, and be gone in the next seventy-two hours, I’ll drop the charges.”

  “No posters, no telegrams to any one. Taken off the books,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “You give me your word?”

  “Yes. I agree,” he said.

  “Then we have a deal. If your word is good. If it’s not, I’ll be back with some help.”

  “Good evening, ma’am,” he said and walked out.

  The swinging doors to the kitchen came open and Fannie walked out. “I was listenin’ behind the door,” she said. “What you goin’ to do?”

  “What I said I’d do,” Julie said. “We got to leave now, Fannie.”

  The front door opened and the young woman who got off the stage when Paxton and Charlie left walked inside. “Are you Julie?” she asked.

  “Yes. Do you want something to eat?”

  “No ma’am, I need to tell you something…in private.” she said, looking at Fannie.

  “Did someone send you?” Julie asked.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “This is Fannie,” Julie said. “You can say what you want to in front of her, I’d tell her anyway.”

  “Very well,” the woman said. “I’ve only been in town a few days but I hear talk from my clients…”

  “Clients?” Julie asked.

  “At the saloon.”

  “Oh, those kind of clients.”

  “Yes, ma’am. My name is Cindy. I used to work in Whiskey Gulch. The boy with those two men that escaped jail is the son of one of the girls I worked with, Alice Woodson. I was afraid to say anything while I was there but from what I hear, you know the two men Tommy is ridin’ with. I know who murdered Tommy’s mama.”

  “Go on,” Julie said.

  “They said Mr. Allison was a friend of yours. I figured they’re goin’ to Traversville, where Alice came from, to see Tommy’s papa. That’s where his mama’s killer is, too. His name is Booker Church, an ugly man—long face, reminds me of a salamander, with fancy guns and boots. He paid double for a whole night with me, got drunk and told me what he was in Whiskey Gulch for. Said the boy’s papa hired him to kill her so she wouldn’t cause him no more trouble. Alice made the mistake of sending a telegram to tell him they were coming home. That’s why he sent Church to kill her.”

  “And you didn’t tell anyone?” Julie asked.

  “He would have killed me.”

  “You could have told the sheriff.”

  “He wouldn’t have done nothin’ anyway. Nobody cares what happens to whores,” Cindy said. “I told Alice and she said she could handle it. She had a gun and would kill him. It didn’t work out that way.”

  “I’ve got no way of getting in touch with Rance now,” Julie said.

  “When Tommy’s papa finds out he’s in Traversville, he’ll have him and your friend murdered like the boy’s mama,” Cindy said. “Alice didn’t deserve what happened to her. By the way, I was in the saloon the night the Indian killed Allen Dobbs. It was self-defense.”

  “C
an I get you something to drink?” Julie said.

  “No ma’am, better get back ‘fore they miss me. Don’t say I told you anything, Church might still have some friends here.”

  “I won’t,” Julie said.

  Cindy nodded, picked up the hem of her long purple dress, opened the door and walked out.

  “I believe her, Fannie,” Julie said. “We’ll go to Texas. Rance needs to know about Church and his son. Should have told him when he was here. We spent one night together to comfort each other and I got pregnant. I’ve always loved him. I’ll make a deal with Colonel Hatch’s Mr. Peabody tomorrow. If you don’t want to go, I’m pretty sure he would let you stay on to run the kitchen for him. I’ll leave you some money.”

  “That’s a long way to take a three year old, and we may not get there in time to do any good anyway,” Fannie said.

  “Already made the deal,” Julie said.

  “How you plan on gettin’ there?” Fannie asked.

  “Take a stage out of here and find a train station along the way. You comin?’”

  “You’re a scarlet woman, Miss Julie. The colonel said so. I don’t know if a respectable colored girl like myself should be seen with the likes of you, but I guess I’ll take that chance.”

  Julie smiled. “Let’s go check on Mitchell.” They put their arms around each other’s waists and walked back into the kitchen.

  20

  Shirley disappeared when the stage got to Pinefield and Preston and Charlie caught the Rebel Express to Texas with an assortment of passengers that included soldiers, cowboys, fancy dans, women and children. There were curtains on the windows and a red flowered design on the carpeted floor with two rows of black leather two-passenger seats that ran the length of the car. Preston had his hat pulled down over his eyes, dozing, and Charlie sat motionless staring out the window as the train rolled along.

  A woman and two small boys with their Sunday clothes on were sitting in the seat in front of them. The boys turned around in the seat and stared at Preston and Charlie.

  “What’s your name?” one of the boys said, looking at Charlie.

  Charlie didn’t answer and continued looking out the window.

  The boy reached over the seat and tapped Charlie on the shoulder. “What’s your name,” he said, in a louder voice.

  “Turn around and leave me alone,” Charlie said.

  Preston came out from under his hat and put a cold stare on the boys.

  Their eyes got big, they gulped and turned around. Preston laid his hat back over his eyes.

  “Wonder where that damn woman went,” Charlie said.

  Preston raised his hat and looked at Charlie. “Everyone knew what she would do, except you.”

  “She borrowed fifty dollars from me,” Charlie said. “Lot of money for nothing.”

  “She didn’t borrow it, she stole it.”

  “Can’t believe I was that stupid.”

  “I can,” Preston said. “A woman has a way of confusing a man when he’s thinkin’ ‘bout dippin’ his wick.”

  Charlie tightened his lips and shook his head. “That’s damn sure right.”

  The woman with the boys stuck her head around the side of her seat so she could see Preston and Charlie. “I forbid you to use that kind of language in the presence of my children.”

  “You wouldn’t have heard us if you wasn’t eavesdropping,” Preston said. “Mind your own damn business.”

  “Well I never…” she said.

  “Looks like you have,” Preston said, “You got two kids, you just don’t remember how.”

  “You’re a very unpleasant man,” she said to Preston, jerked her head back toward the front of the car, grabbing the boys and pushing them down in the seat. “Shut up and sit still ‘fore I tan your hides.”

  The conductor entered the car. He was stoop-shouldered with a gray handlebar mustache. He kind of shuffled when he walked, like he had something wrong with his hip or leg. He stopped about halfway down the car and looked around.

  “Listen up, folks,” he said. “Going to spend the night in Buffalo Flats and pick up soldiers and mail. You can find you a place to bed down and the railroad will pay for it. We leave at seven-thirty sharp in the mornin’ and anyone not here is on their own.”

  “Think I’ll stay on the train,” Charlie said.

  “So you got snookered again ,” Preston said. “Won’t be the last time and we got a long way to go, might better get a bed while you can, since the railroads goin’ to pay.”

  “Yeah guess so,” Charlie said.

  When they pulled into Buffalo Flats everyone got off the train and made their way downtown.

  Preston and Charlie stopped in front of the Fast Hitch Saloon. A sign in the window read: Beds fifty cents a night, furnished three dollars.

  “This should do,” Preston said and they walked in with several other men to the bar and sat their bags down. They glanced at two painted-up young whores leaning against the bar, smiling at them.

  The bartender wiped his hands on his apron. “What’ll it be, gents?”

  “Two whiskeys,” Preston said and laid a silver dollar on the bar.

  The bartender sat two glasses on the bar, poured the whiskey and picked up the silver dollar.

  “Need two beds,” Preston said.

  “You want that furnished?” he said.

  “Not tonight,” Preston said. Charlie nodded in agreement.

  “Okay,” the bartender said. “Without the whores that’s a dollar.”

  Preston and Charlie handed him the money and he gave Preston a key. “Two beds, room four, top of the stairs. Your bags will be waitin’ for you.”

  “Thanks,” Preston said.

  They picked up their glasses and turned around. The saloon was almost full with train passengers and locals. A slightly plump whore with a bright red dress and hair to match was sitting in the lap of a cowboy playing Faro.

  Preston walked over to a nearby table where three men were playing poker and Charlie followed.

  “Man, get a hand in this game,” Preston said.

  One of the men looked up at Preston. It was Billy Shaw. He had on his sheriff’s badge and was packing his ivory-handled Colt. “You come in on the train?” Billy said

  “Sure did,” Preston said.

  “No IOUs, money up front to cover your bets,” Billy said.

  “Good enough,” Preston said and sat down.

  A burly-looking cuss wearing overalls with a dirty beard pitched his cards out on the table and poured himself a glass of whiskey. The other one did the same and leaned back in his chair and looked at Preston like he was sizing him up. He was lean, narrow-jawed and solemn looking. He had on a stove top hat, black coat vest and pants.

  “What ‘bout you,” Billy said to Charlie.

  “I’ll just watch if that’s okay?” Charlie said.

  “As long as you sit behind your partner where his cards are the only ones you see,” Billy said.

  Charlie nodded and sat down behind Preston, drank the rest of the whiskey and sat the empty glass on the table.

  “This here is Ned Martin,” Billy said and pointed at the dirty bearded guy, “and this is the undertaker, Crawford Smart.” Both men nodded.

  “Willie Preston.”

  “Name sounds familiar,” Billy said. “Weren’t you a marshal from over Kansas way?”

  “Was a time back, been marshaling in Milberg, Virginia until recently,” Preston said. “Bounty huntin’ now.”

  “Who you lookin’ for?” Billy said.

  “An Indian, a one-armed man and a boy, killed a man in Whiskey Gulch and maybe three more. You seen ‘em?”

  “They been here,” Ned said, “don’t forget somebody like that. Was here when they rode in with the two Bannister boys layin’ across their saddles.”

  “That right, sheriff?” Preston said.

  “They said the boys came flying out of the woods, shootin’ at ‘em,” Billy said. “Didn’t have a choice but to
kill ‘em. Couldn’t prove otherwise, had to let ‘em go. Didn’t know about the other trouble, though.”

  “We goin’ to gossip or play cards,” Ned said and took a big swig of whiskey straight from the bottle.

  “Play cards.” Billy picked up the deck, shuffled the cards and dealt everyone a hand.

  They were still playing at two in the morning. Ned went broke and called it a night but Crawford and Billy were trying to get back what they lost to Preston.

  “Think I’ll turn in,” Charlie said.

  “Shouldn’t take long to get the rest of their money,” Preston said and smiled. Crawford and Billy found no humor in it.

  “Tell you what,” Billy said. “One hand for what I got left.”

  “I’ll go for that,” Crawford said.

  “Okay,” Preston said. “I’ll match what each of you has. Five card stud, face up, no draw, best hand wins.”

  They both nodded.

  Charlie sat back down. “I gotta see this.”

  Preston dealt the hands. Crawford had high card, no pairs. Billy had two jacks and Preston two kings.

  “Looks like you’re out of money, boys,” Preston said and drug the money across the table to his side. “Buy you a drink ‘fore you go?”

  “Not me,” Crawford said and stood up. “Got two stiffs to bury in the morning. Have to charge more now to cover my losses.” He repositioned his stove top hat on his head and walked out of the saloon.

  Billy sat there. “I’ll take that drink,” he said. Preston picked up the whiskey bottle and poured Billy a full glass of whiskey.

  “There you go, drink up,” Preston said.

  “Thanks, wanted a bit of conversation with you in private anyway,” Billy said and looked around the saloon. No one close enough to hear him except Preston and Charlie.

  “What you got on your mind, sheriff?” Preston said.

  “Bout them men you chasin’ after. You need any help?”

  “Nope,” Preston said, filling his pockets with Billy and Crawford’s money.

  “You know where they’re goin’ at least?” Billy asked.

  “I do,” Preston said.

  “You include me,” Billy said, “and I can tell you something that’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Might consider it,” Preston said.