Sundown Comes Twice

by Art Isberg

  ‘You don’t know how glad I am to see you again. When you left I wondered if you’d be all right. I see our saviour has done a splendid job looking over you.’

  ‘How are you, Moses? It’s good to see you again, too. I’ve brought someone with me,’ he indicated over his shoulder.

  Moses could not see Lacey’s face because Judd’s horse blocked his view. He stepped around the front of the animal, and then looked up, extending his hand. Suddenly his face registered surprise: this visitor might look like a man with that flannel shirt, boots and big cowboy hat shading her face, but all those curls sticking out from under the hat and that pretty face, said she was all woman. Moses quickly regained the power of speech.

  ‘Well, I’ll be dam. . . .’ he caught himself, turning back to Miller. ‘You never fail to surprise me, and you sure did it again this time. Both of you get down out of those saddles, and come inside, after we take care of your horses.’

  Once inside the spacious cave, Lacey took it all in, wide eyed in surprise, as Moses showed her round, and how everything he’d put together worked. He might be a man striving to live by God’s commandments, but he could not ignore Lacey’s rough-hewn beauty, as he led her around. Eventually he had to ask her the question that had been haunting him since they first met.

  ‘May I ask you something personal?’ he hoped she wouldn’t be offended.

  ‘Yes, what it is?’

  ‘Is there some reason you hide how pretty you are by dressing up like a man?’

  She smiled at the odd compliment. ‘It’s because when my husband was killed, all I had left was our half-finished dugout, and most of his clothes. We had both worked on it, and I wore his clothes because I was getting dirty and sweaty each day. I couldn’t get much done in a frilly dress and lace-up shoes! Then when I was alone, I had to do what I could, working at anything I could in a man’s world, and it was just easier to wear what I’ve got on.’

  ‘Thank you for telling me that, and I’m sorry to hear about such a tragedy. But I have to say I still think it’s a shame you cover yourself up. You’re too pretty for that. Please don’t take offence at my saying so. May I call you Miss Lacey?’

  ‘Of course you can, and thank you for being so nice about it.’

  That evening while eating dinner around a crackling fire at the front of the cave, Moses asked Judd about what happened after he rode out of Dry Wells. Miller looked back at his friend over the dancing flames, wondering if he should tell him the whole story, including what had happened up in Hang Town, and even Alkali, too. Lacey stopped eating and stared at Judd, waiting to see how much he would reveal. He put down his plate, deciding not to hide any of it. He began explaining about the shoot-out up in Hang Town with Cayce Sloat, and the Mexicans in Alkali.

  Moses sat listening without saying a word until he had finished. The tall man took in a long, slow breath, attempting to put words together that might make some sense, while trying to avoid being too critical of his friend. He rubbed his hands together, beginning: ‘It seems that fate has decided to make you someone who might spend the rest of his life living with a six-gun in his hand, but I know you better than that. I also know that fate doesn’t always have to win, either. A man can change things in his life, and live differently. I know the hand you were dealt, with your brother’s murder and your goal to set things right and make someone pay for that. But I have to tell you that I believe the day will come when you hang up that hog-leg for good, and live like you were meant to.’

  Judd took a sip from his coffee cup, understanding that Moses’ words were only expressing concern about his well-being. Putting down the cup, he stared back at his lanky friend. ‘I didn’t ask to live this way. Other people played those cards you were just talking about. But I’m not going to stop until I get my ranch back, and until the men who started this are either in jail, or dead. I’m going back to Red Bluffs, and coming here was only the start of that journey. Nothing is going to stop me now, even if I die trying.’

  ‘Yes, I know that, Judd. But you can’t just shoot your way back into town. From what you’ve already told me, your name is likely being spread on every wanted poster between here and Mexico, whether you know it or not. Sooner or later some posse is going to catch up to you, and you’ve got to find some other way to right the wrongs that were done to you and your brother, without using a flaming six-gun.’

  ‘If there is another way, I don’t know what it is. When I get back to Red Bluffs, maybe I can find one, but I doubt it. Men there used their kind of law against me. I’m going to use mine back in the same way.’

  Moses leaned away from the heat of the fire, closing his eyes, trying to think of some way to help this man he’d grown so fond of. For a long time no one spoke. Only the sound of snapping flames disturbed the quiet chill of night. When he opened them again, he looked back at Judd, with his solution.

  ‘It’s been said that a man must travel through hell before he can get to heaven. I imagine they must have had a man like you in mind, when that was first said. It may take your six-gun and my bible, but the only way all this can see a fitting end, is if I go back with you, to help out. After you get rested up for a few days, all three of us will leave together for Red Bluffs!’

  Judd spent the next two days trying to talk Moses out of his promise to ride with him and Lacey, but try as he might, Moses refused to budge. He’d made up his mind to try and save his friend whatever might lay ahead, and he meant to see it through to the end.

  The horses had a good feed and were well rested, the morning of the trio’s departure. Moses had loaded his wagon with enough provisions and water to take on the same perilous desert journey that had almost taken Judd’s life on his first crossing. Then as Judd walked around the back of the wagon, he saw the tall preacher loading a shotgun wrapped in a blanket into the back, under several food bags.

  ‘What are you going to do with that?’ Miller asked.

  Moses, caught by surprise, turned to face him with an odd look on his face as he searched for a quick answer. ‘Well . . . I might shoot us . . . a sage hen for dinner, if I get the chance.’

  ‘Sage hen, huh?’

  ‘Yes. If I get the chance.’

  ‘I hope that’s the only thing you’ll use it on. I’d hate to think you might do something else with it.’

  ‘So would I, Judd. You know I’m a man of peace.’

  ‘Yes, I do. I hope you keep it that way.’

  ‘Can I ask how long it took you to cross the desert, when we first met up?’

  ‘I believe it was a little over a week and a half. I was stretched pretty thin when we first met up, so I’m not certain.’

  ‘I see.’ He hesitated, pulling at his chin. ‘I believe we should be able to do it in about the same time, or maybe even a little bit better. You two saddle up and let’s get to it.’

  Once mounted, Moses snapped the reins down on his big mule, as the wagon creaked forward, with the riders in the lead. They hadn’t gone far when Moses began loudly singing ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’. Lacey looked over at Judd with a small smile on her face. He glanced back with a small shrug. How could he complain when he had God riding with them?

  Each day as the wagon and riders moved farther out into the vast sandy plains, Judd’s memory of his struggle to outrun the posse led by Jared Bass returned, and the hardships he’d faced trying to outlast the men riding behind trying to catch up. With Moses’ wagon filled with provisions and water, this crossing was a far different event, despite those bitter thoughts. At night when they made camp under a velvet black sky blazing with diamond bright stars, Moses did the cooking, and they washed down the welcome provender with cool water from the big, canvas-wrapped casket on the side of the wagon.

  During meals they discussed how Judd wanted to return to Red Bluffs without being seen, to learn the reason for Randall’s death, and for the night-time attack on their ranch, an attack that nearly took his life, too. It was decided the three of them would camp well out of
town, letting Moses and Lacey take the wagon each day into town because they were not known by anyone. Moses suggested he could do some preaching from the tailgate on the back of his wagon, to become a regular fixture around town, making it easier to ask questions without becoming suspicious to anyone. Lacey would pretend to do some shopping for the same reason, while Judd stayed out of sight.

  On the ninth day of their journey, the endless monotony of flat, desert tan was finally interrupted by the distant silhouette of purple mountains rising ahead signalling they were nearly across. Not far into those mountains lay the watered heights of Red Bluffs, unsuspecting of its new arrivals. Starting up into the first foothills three days later, desert heat faded into chilling night-time temperatures that demanded a crackling evening fire to keep warm. As they ate dinner, Moses questioned his cowboy friend.

  ‘How far away from town would you say we are now?’

  ‘Another two days.’

  ‘When we get there, where do you want to set up camp outside of town?’ Lacey wondered.

  ‘There’s a timber ridge above our ranch, or what’s left of it. We can camp there without being seen, while I keep an eye on my property, in case anyone is doing something with it. Someone wanted my brother and me off that land bad enough to kill for it. That’s something maybe you and Moses might get some word about when you’re in town. I might try coming into town at night, and keep out of sight. There are still some things and places I want to go to, without being seen. Randall and I had friends there. Maybe someone can help me while keeping it quiet.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Two days after their arrival at Red Bluffs, Sunday midday found Moses standing on the tailgate of his slogan-painted wagon on main street, preaching to a curious crowd of onlookers. As he harangued the sinners of their certain fate if they didn’t change their ways, more people gathered around to hear his stirring words of redemption. One of the new arrivals was especially sceptical of the tall man in his frock coat. Cyrus Toomey eyed Moses suspiciously, wondering if he was just half crazy, or actually lived by the tenets of the Good Book that he kept threatening the crowd with.

  ‘Hey, Mayor,’ one man called out. ‘What do you think about all this?’ He pointed to Moses, who also heard the call, remembering what Judd had said about him.

  ‘And you, Mr Mayor,’ Moses immediately turned on Toomey. ‘Can you say you’ve lived an exemplary life free of sin, while helping your fellow men?’

  Toomey glared back at being singled out, while those around him turned to hear his answer.

  ‘Can you speak, sir?’ Moses kept at him. ‘Surely a man entrusted to be mayor has to be a man right with God, or he’d be a charlatan and a Judas to his own people. Wouldn’t you agree to that, sir?’

  Toomey’s face reddened in anger. His nostrils flared while his mouth twisted in sudden hate, at being called out and embarrassed by this uninvited troublemaker.

  ‘You’re all talk and hot air,’ Cyrus yelled back, shaking a raised fist at the preacher. ‘I’ll bet you’re the biggest sinner in this whole town!’

  ‘Yes, I have sinned. But I’ve regretted it, and made myself right with the Lord. Can you say here and now you’ve done the same? I’m sure all these folks standing here would like to hear you say so. I know I would.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn what you’d like to hear. If you’re smart, you’ll fold up your wagon and get out of town, before I have you arrested!’

  ‘Arrested for what? Asking a simple question of the town’s leading citizen? You’d have to arrest this whole town, if that’s the case.’ Moses chuckled at his own quick retort.

  Bested to the point of frustration, Toomey flung a fist at Moses, before pushing his way out of the growing throng of people. Half a block down the street he ran into Jared Bass. Pulling him quickly aside, he blurted out a quick order.

  ‘See that religious quack down the block?’ he jerked his head toward the crowd. ‘Get rid of him.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Any way you can. Just remove him, and fast. I don’t want to see or hear of him around here again, you understand?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘All right, get to it.’

  Bass walked down the street to where Moses was still preaching his non-stop, religious gift of the gab. He eyed the tall man and his painted wagon. One look was all he needed to know that Toomey’s order would be a quick and easy one to carry out.

  Moses spent the rest of that Sunday moving around town, observing everything he could while talking to people to see if he could learn anything about what happened to the Miller brothers and their property outside town. Most people avoided giving answers, although everyone knew about Randall’s killing, and the gun battle Judd had before he got away. Sundown came fast after his busy day. He was anxious to get back to Judd and Lacey, and in particular to tell them about his verbal exchange with Toomey. He flapped the reins down on the big mule’s back, and the wagon rattled down the street, heading out of town, as the first long shadows of evening slowly engulfed the town buildings.

  A darkening sky began to light up with the first blink of stars, followed by a chilly evening wind with it. Moses pulled up his collar against it. Half an hour later rounding a bend in the road, he saw the shadowy figure of three men on horseback blocking his advance. Pulling back on the reins, he called out to let him pass. They did not move as he came to a stop in front of them.

  ‘Hey, preacher,’ one man called back, ‘here’s a little message from the mayor. Get out of town and stay out, if you know what’s good for you!’

  Before Moses could answer, the sudden swish of a lariat came whirling out of the dark, encircling him, pulled instantly tight, as the rider spurred his horse away, yanking Moses from the wagon seat. Flying through the air, he crashed to the ground, and was then dragged at a gallop over rocks and ruts, beating him bloody as he twisted and turned out of control.

  After a long run down the road, Bass yanked his horse around, dragging Moses back until his clothes were torn to bloody rags, and he lost consciousness for several moments. When he partially regained his senses through a wall of growing pain, he heard one of the horsemen above him speak.

  ‘This is your last warning, preacher. We see you in town or anyplace else again, and we’ll bury you in that wagon of yours!’

  Moses lay on his back, staring up into the night, barely able to move. But he was conscious enough to hear one of the men joke as they kicked their horses away. ‘Nice work, Jared. That ought to put the fear of God into him!’ Their laughter faded away along with the hoof beats.

  The tall man tried to pull himself up, but every time he did, sudden knives of pain cut through him to the bone, until he could barely breathe, and he fell back down. He knew he had to get back to camp and help, or he would die where he lay. Summoning every ounce of strength he had, he took in a faltering breath and began praying out loud.

  ‘Help me . . . Lord. Help me . . . rise.’

  Again he tried to sit up so he could roll over on to his hands and knees and crawl to the wagon, but he collapsed half way up. Desperate for an answer, his mind struggled for another way. Then suddenly, hearing his mule moving nervously in its traces, he thought of a possible solution: if he couldn’t make it to the wagon, maybe he could get the wagon to come to him!

  He took in another stabbing breath before calling out: ‘J-a-a-k-e . . . come here . . . boy. J-a-a-k-e . . . come on . . . you can . . . do it.’

  The rattling sound of the wagon moving forwards gave Moses a burst of new hope, until moments later the dark shadow of the mule and wagon loomed over him, coming to a stop.

  ‘Stay still . . . now . . . don’t move.’

  Moses reached up, grabbing one of the thick wooden spokes on the wheel, pulling himself higher inch by excruciating inch, until his hand clutched the metal seat rail. He had to make it into that seat, or die trying.

  Judd and Lacey stood around the small fire warming their hands, hidden from view below in the valley. �
�Shouldn’t Moses be back by now?’ Lacey wondered out loud, the worry in her voice obvious.

  ‘If he doesn’t show up soon, I’ll have to saddle up and go look for him.’ Judd answered, just as he heard the first sound of the wagon coming closer. Stepping away from the fire, he called out to Moses without getting an answer.

  ‘It’s about time you . . .’ Judd stopped, seeing the preacher slumped over on the wagon seat, face down. He ran for the wagon pulling himself up in the seat, lifting Moses in his arms. ‘What happened, Moses? Can you speak?’

  Carefully lifting Moses’ limp body down from the wagon, Judd lowered him on to a blanket spread next to the fire, where he could take his first good look at his friend’s bloody face and torn clothes. A sudden cry came from Lacey’s lips as she kneeled closer, putting her hand to her mouth.

  ‘Get me some water and a cloth,’ Judd ordered. ‘I’ll try to clean him up and see how bad he is. Looks like he’s torn up from head to toe.’

  Moses moaned, barely aware of where he was, while Judd and Lacey worked over him. ‘My God, what could have happened to him?’ Lacey slowly cleaned the blood off the tall man’s bloody face.

  ‘He’s been rope dragged behind a horse. That’s the only way his clothes and the rest of him could end up looking like this,’ Judd shook his head.

  ‘But who could even think of doing something like this, and why?’

  ‘I don’t know, but he was in town most of the day. He must have rubbed someone the wrong way, or asked a question no one wanted to answer.’