“I reckon that’s safe to say,” Bragg replied. “But the town of Buzzard’s Bluff will sure appreciate your efforts to keep the peace.”
“Good,” Dalton said. Unable to think of anything more, he got to his feet. “Well, I just wanted to drop by and let you know I’ll try to help keep the peace.”
Bragg got to his feet as well. “’Preciate it, Mr. Dalton. Thanks for stoppin’ by.” He stood in the doorway and watched him lead his horse across the street to the Golden Rail. “Now, what in the world is that ol’ dung beetle up to?” he asked aloud. “Wait till I tell Ben Savage about this visit.” He would have gone right away, but he didn’t want to risk having Dalton see him going immediately to his competition.
Equally surprised across the street, Stump Jones, staring out the window of the Golden Rail, uttered, “As I live and breathe...” He turned and yelled at the three men sitting at a table. “Look who’s comin’. You boys didn’t say Mr. Dalton was comin’ to meet you here.”
“That ain’t funny, Stump,” Marty said as he walked over to the window to see what Stump was joking about. “Well, I’ll be...” he blurted when he looked out and saw Dalton tying the Morgan to the hitching rail out front. He turned immediately toward Deacon and Shorty still sitting at the table. “We got to get outta here! It’s the boss! He’s comin’ here!”
Like three truant schoolboys caught by the principal, the three outlaw cowhands ran out of the saloon to take refuge in the kitchen, where a startled Charlene was eating a late breakfast at the table. “What the hell?” she blurted. “Who’s after you?”
“Just sit there and shut up,” Deacon said. “It’s Daniel Dalton, and I’d just as soon he didn’t find me here.” He eased up beside the kitchen door in an effort to try to hear what was being talked about in the barroom. He turned back to Charlene to ask a quick question. “Did Wilson say anything about Mr. Dalton coming by here today?”
“Not to me, he didn’t,” she answered. “Hell, he don’t ever come by here. Wonder if Wilson knew he was comin.” She looked over at Peggy, the cook, “He say anything to you, Peg?” Peggy simply answered with her usual scowl of boredom and shook her head, not particularly concerned one way or the other. Deacon eased up close to the open door again to listen when he heard Dalton speak to Mickey Dupree at the bar. He heard Mickey’s greeting to him and heard Dalton ask where Wilson was. Mickey said he was in the office and asked if Dalton wanted him to fetch him, but Dalton said no, he’d go to the office.
When he was sure Dalton had gone into Wilson’s office behind the barroom, Deacon said, “I’m gettin’ outta here before he comes in the kitchen.” He headed for the back door. Shorty and Marty followed and all three were thinking how smart they were to have tied their horses around behind the saloon.
“Wait a minute,” Shorty exclaimed as they were climbing into their saddles, “what are we runnin’ for? He knows we came to get our guns this mornin’. Hell, he sent us in here to get ’em.”
“Yeah, but he didn’t say to set around in the saloon after we got ’em,” Deacon answered him. “You do what you want. I’ve already had one chewin’ out this mornin’. I ain’t hangin’ around for another one.” He gave his horse a firm kick with his heels and the big bay gelding lunged into action. He had not shared with Shorty and Marty the fact that he had been given an ultimatum by Dalton, kill Ben Savage or don’t return to the Double-D. He was afraid if Dalton caught him sitting in the saloon, he might fire him right there. The boss had a temper, and he was pretty riled at the present.
Deacon led them past the hotel and down along the creek bank before he pulled his horse to a stop. “We need to make us some plans,” he said when they pulled up beside him.
“Where the hell are you headin’?” Shorty wanted to know. “This ain’t the way back to the Double-D.”
“For the three of us, there ain’t but one way back to the Double-D,” Deacon said. “There’s somethin’ I ain’t told you ’bout that meetin’ I had with the boss and Spade this mornin’. And I’m gonna tell it to you now, straight. He got his ass jacked up so high about us gettin’ ourselves run outta town and our guns took away from us that he gave us one chance to make up for it.” He had their immediate attention. “I’ll boil it down for ya, we kill Ben Savage or we don’t come back to the Double-D.” He wanted their help, so he wasn’t going to tell them that it was only he who had been given the ultimatum.
They both reacted as if they had just been slugged. “Damn, that’s kinda hard, ain’t it?” Shorty asked. “He didn’t tell us to do nothin’ but raise some hell in the Lost Coyote. He never spelled out that he wanted us to go in there and shoot Ben Savage. Ain’t that right, Marty?”
“That’s the way I understood it,” Marty said and turned toward Deacon. “You was the one wantin’ to draw Savage out to face you in a shoot-out, and me and Shorty were just goin’ with you to help get a fight started.”
“That’s right, that’s right,” Deacon quickly agreed. “I’m the one that wants him dead. I’m the one he attacked and rearranged my nose. But Dalton don’t see it that way. He said all three of us are guilty, and so we’re all in this together. So the way I see it is we work together to put this jasper in the ground, and things will be all right with the boss again.” While Shorty and Marty tried to grasp the severity of their sentence from the boss, Deacon went on. “We ain’t got time for no face-to-face quick-draw shoot-outs. We need to kill him any way we can, as long as we do it so nobody can point their finger at any one of us.”
“Damn, I don’t know,” Marty hedged. “That’s gonna be pretty hard to do without somebody seein’ us do it.” He was not at all anxious to risk an attempt on a man who got the best of Bob Wills and Ed Hatcher.
“You ain’t goin’ soft on me, are you?” Deacon asked. “’Cause the boss ain’t got no use for a man scared to pull a trigger.”
“You know I ain’t scared, Deacon,” Marty quickly responded. “I’m just sayin’ we’d best be careful, so nobody can say we done it.”
“We’ll plan it so nobody can point a finger at us,” Deacon assured him.
* * *
While the meeting between the three assassins on the creek bank south of town was just in the planning stages, a meeting of a more genial nature was going on at the Lost Coyote. “Well, good morning, Frank,” Rachel sang out cheerfully when the three RBJ ranch hands walked in the saloon.
Hearing her greeting from the kitchen door, Ben walked out to say good morning as well. “I thought you boys would be startin’ out for home early this mornin’,” he said and nodded to each of them. “I was just goin’ in the kitchen to get another cup of coffee. You want a cup? Annie just brewed up a big pot.”
“No thanks,” Frank replied. “But we appreciate the offer. We’re packed up and ready to get started. We just thought we’d like to stop by to thank you folks for your hospitality and for how you handled that trouble last night.”
While Frank talked, Rachel noticed that young Jimmy Whitley kept looking back and forth and up the stairs and down. She stepped over close beside him and whispered low, “She doesn’t usually come downstairs very early in the mornings. But if you just wanna speak to her real quick, she’s most likely awake.” He answered her with a rapid nodding of his head and a youthful smile. Overhearing the whispered conversation, Ron Corbett looked at Jimmy and just shook his head in playful disgust. “Come on,” Rachel whispered and took Jimmy by the hand. Before Frank and Ben noticed, Rachel and Jimmy were halfway up the stairs.
Rachel led him to one of the doors that Jimmy had come to know well. She tapped on the door and called out softly, “Ruby, are you up yet?”
From inside the room they heard her sleepy reply. “Rachel, is that you?”
“Yes, it’s me,” Rachel answered. “Are you decent? I’ve got somebody here who wants to say good morning.”
“Let me put my robe on,” Ruby came back. “Who is it?”
“One of your admirers, I think. Open up, he’s
in a hurry.” She looked at Jimmy and winked. He was almost trembling in his anticipation of seeing her before he left.
They heard the key in the lock and a second later the door opened to reveal Ruby, looking young and sleepy. When she saw who had come to call at this hour, her youthful face blossomed with a big smile. “Jimmy,” she said softly. Rachel left them and hurried back downstairs.
When she got back to the men talking, the subject was on the best trail to follow to avoid contact with Double-D cowhands. “I hope we haven’t brought you any trouble because of you taking our part in that little confrontation,” Frank said.
“Nothing we can’t handle,” Ben told him. “I hope we get to see you again if you’re ever up this way. Wish the RBJ was a little bit closer to Buzzard’s Bluff.”
“Me, too,” Frank said and extended his hand. “Well, we’d best get goin’ if we’re ever gonna get home. We might have to leave Jimmy here.” He laughed, then called out, “Come on, Jimmy, we’re leavin’.” He came bounding down the steps, happy and sad at the same time. “Mercy,” Frank said, “was I ever that young?” They all enjoyed a good laugh and the men from the RBJ went out the door, leaving one young prostitute weeping silently in her room, thinking how things might have been had she made different choices in her life.
When they had left, Ben went back to the kitchen to get that cup of coffee he had been going for when Frank came in. The discussion now returned to the problems that may have hatched after the altercation with Deacon Moss. There was sure to be some trouble. Deacon didn’t impress Ben and Rachel as the kind of man who forgives and forgets. They were more than a little surprised to find that the Double-D man they would first encounter was not Deacon but the Double-D, himself, Daniel Dalton.
Tiny was the first to spot the solemn potentate of the troublesome ranch and he gave the warning to Ben and Rachel, who were sitting at one of the tables close to the kitchen door. “Trouble’s comin’ early this mornin’,” Tiny announced, and when Dalton walked to the bar, Tiny pointed to the two people seated at the table before Dalton asked. Without a word to Tiny, Dalton headed to the table. Ben stood up to receive him.
“Mr. Dalton,” Ben acknowledged. “What can we do for you?”
“Savage,” Dalton responded, then nodded in Rachel’s direction. “Miss Baskin.” Back to Ben, he said, “I’m in town this morning on some other business, and I thought it would be a good idea to stop by and talk to you.”
Not sure what to expect from this surprise visit, Ben raised an eyebrow in Rachel’s direction before responding. “We were just havin’ some coffee. Sit down and have a cup with us, unless you want something a little stronger.”
“Thank you, I will,” he replied and pulled a chair back. “I never drink alcohol in the mornings. Coffee will be fine.”
Having been listening at the kitchen door as soon as she heard who their visitor was, Annie quickly ran to the stove, poured a cup of coffee, and met Rachel with it before Rachel reached the door. She had to stifle a laugh when she almost collided with Annie. “Thank you, Annie,” she said and took the coffee to the table quickly, not wanting to miss any of the conversation.
Dalton nodded a polite thanks in Rachel’s direction before beginning. “I’m aware that there has been some trouble caused by my men in your establishment here. I don’t know what the reason for that is. I know that I have had some rough men on my payroll, and as we all know, these men are hard to control when they’re let out of the cage. But I wanted to let you know I have given orders that they are not to cause any trouble in this saloon. Their behavior has already resulted in two deaths, and I wanted to let you know that’s not the way I do business with my competition.”
“Well, that’s mighty good to know,” Ben remarked when Dalton paused to take a few sips of his coffee. “I can guarantee you we won’t be sendin’ anybody down to the Golden Rail to do damage or cause trouble. And we’ll keep doin’ what we have to do to defend ourselves and our customers, just like we always have. Looks to me like the town is gettin’ bigger every day. I expect it won’t be much longer before we’ll have another saloon come in to compete for the likker business. So it’s a smart idea for you and us to get along now, before that happens.”
“Well spoken,” Dalton replied, “exactly the way I see it.” A long pause followed then, the only noise between them the sipping of their coffee. When it was obvious to them both that there was really nothing more to discuss, he said, “I suppose I’ll get along with my other business now. Thank you for the coffee. I’m glad to know where we stand. None of us is trying to run the other one out of business.” He got up to leave.
Ben and Rachel stood up as well. “Glad you stopped by,” Ben said as Dalton walked out. They remained standing until he disappeared, then turned to exchange grins and a shake of the head.
“Now, what do you suppose that was all about?” Rachel asked, and both Tiny and Annie came over to join them, also curious about his visit. “I thought he was gonna invite us out to his ranch to have tea with him and that mysterious wife he’s supposed to have before he was finished. What’s her name, Estelle?” She looked at Tiny, then Annie—neither of them knew. She looked back at Ben and questioned, “You think he meant what he said about not causing any more trouble?”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Ben told her at once. “I think the purpose of that little visit was just so he could declare that all the trouble we might have from now on ain’t gonna be his doin’. And the biggest lie he told was the last one he said—that he wasn’t tryin’ to run us outta business. ’Cause that’s exactly what he’s aimin’ to do.”
A few minutes later, Tuck Tucker burst through the batwing doors like he was rushing to put out a fire. “What’s goin’ on?” he exclaimed. “I just saw Daniel Dalton come walkin’ outta here!”
“Just Christian businessmen havin’ a friendly visit,” Tiny answered him, but it was Ben who had to tell the fiery little gnome what was said.
“You didn’t believe a word of what that lying dirty bird said, did you? ’Cause, if you did, you’d best lock the henhouse before that fox gets in,” Tuck warned. “I swear, I need a drink after hearin’ that kinda talk from that devil.”
“It’s still a little early for you to start drinkin’, ain’t it?” Tiny teased.
“Why?” Tuck responded as if surprised he would ask. “The sun’s up, ain’t it? I thought it was before I came in here.”
Tiny chuckled as he poured him a drink. Tuck tossed it back, wiped his red whiskers around his mouth, and asked, “Whaddaya gonna do, Ben?”
“What am I gonna do?” he repeated. “Nothin’. What can I do? Just wait and try to take care of whatever happens, unless Mack Bragg tells me it’s all right to shoot Dalton’s men on sight.”
As if he heard his name called, the sheriff walked in the saloon right after that. “Did I see Daniel Dalton comin’ outta here a few minutes ago?”
“That you did, Sheriff,” Rachel answered. “I don’t think anybody in town missed it.”
“I was fixin’ to come tell you that Dalton was just in my office,” Bragg said. “He said he stopped in to tell me he was sorry about the trouble his men had caused, and he was gonna try to put a stop to it.”
“Ha,” Tuck grunted. “If turds could talk, they might try to tell you what a pretty journey they took to get here.”
Bragg ignored Tuck’s wisdom and asked Ben, “Whaddaya think? You think that man’s turned over a new leaf?”
“I think Tuck’s right,” Ben answered. “I think Dalton’s paintin’ a pretty picture of his innocence in whatever trouble is on the way to Buzzard’s Bluff—at least to the Lost Coyote. But if the Coyote goes down, it’ll be just the first step in Buzzard’s Bluff goin’ down the path of other wild Texas towns.” He gave Bragg a stern look and added, “And that’s gonna make your job a helluva lot harder.” He saw the immediate understanding, and with it, the concern in the sheriff’s expression. “So I reckon we’ve all gotta keep a shar
p eye about us and hope we’re ready for whatever happens.”
“I reckon,” Bragg replied. He didn’t express it, but he suspected that, if what Ben said was true, one of Dalton’s first objectives would be to take Ben Savage out of the picture. That didn’t take a genius to figure out. They had already attempted to do it more than once.
A couple of the saloon’s regular early drinkers came in then, sending Tiny back to the bar and Annie back to the kitchen. “You might as well sit long enough to have a cup of coffee, Mack,” Rachel said and got up to follow Annie into the kitchen to fetch it for him.
CHAPTER 14
“How do you know he’ll go to the hotel for supper?” Shorty asked.
“’Cause he always does,” Deacon said. “That cook at the Lost Coyote don’t stay there to cook supper. And if he don’t go to the dinin’ room at the hotel, the only other place to get supper is at the Golden Rail, and I don’t think he’s gonna go there. Do you?”
“I reckon you’re right,” Shorty replied, ignoring his sarcastic tone. “I didn’t think about that. What time do you reckon he’ll go to supper?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know that?” Deacon answered him. “We’re just gonna have to wait him out.”
“The dinin’ room is open for supper from five o’clock till seven o’clock,” Marty said. “That’s a long time to wait.”
“You got somethin’ better to do?” Deacon asked, again sarcastically. “We’ve gotta nail his ass tonight or we’ll be on the road outta here tomorrow.” He could tell by the attitude of both of them that they were not very enthusiastic about the job they had to do. He decided he’d better talk up their courage a little. “Hell, there ain’t gonna be nothin’ to this job tonight. The way we got it planned, don’t matter which way he comes outta that dinin’ room, one of us will get a shot at him. And when we shoot that jasper, we’re gonna be Mr. Dalton’s three favorite pets. I guarantee ya.” He grinned to try to prime their courage. “We can’t miss, if we do it like I say. Let’s go over it again, so everybody knows what to do. Where you gonna be, Shorty?”
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