by Sharon Sala
Eulis’s fingers were twitching as he retied the string around the pouch and dropped it in his pocket while Miles Crutchaw and his wife drove away. He could hear Letty sniffling as she sidled up, but for the life of him, he couldn’t find the words to speak. He kept seeing his mother’s blood on the ground and hearing his little brother’s screams.
Letty dabbed at her eyes as the newlyweds pulled out of town.
“Wonder where they’re going?” she asked.
Eulis shrugged. An idea was forming in the back of his mind. It was radical, but he’d gotten away with the impersonation so far. Who was to say it couldn’t continue. “Dodge City. They’re goin’ to Dodge City,” he mumbled. “And I need a drink.”
Letty grabbed his arm. “Only a small one,” she urged. “There’s still tonight.”
Eulis stopped. “What the hell’s tonight?”
“The revival under the brush arbor everyone’s been building. And don’t curse. Preachers don’t curse,” Letty warned.
“I can’t preach no full-blown sermon, and most preachers don’t poke whores neither,” Eulis grumbled. His frustration set off a new spate of tears to running down Letty’s cheeks. “Well hell, I mean heck. I didn’t mean to go and make you cry. Come on. Let’s go get ourselves somethin’ to eat while you tell me what else it is I got to do before I can get myself some rest.”
Consoled by the fact that Eulis seemed ready to do as she bid, Letty took him by the arm and headed toward the White Dove Saloon. She could fry up some side meat and put it between biscuits. Will always kept cold biscuits just in case.
“It’s just a sermon,” Letty said. “One little sermon. After that, the preacher will be on his way to the next stop on his missionary trip. You can handle one little old bitty sermon, now, can’t you Reverend?”
Eulis sighed. He wished his body could rise to the occasion that her look demanded, but so far, the only thing hard on his body was the preacher’s change jingling in the pockets of his pants.
“I reckon I can,” he said. “What’s one more sermon in the face of what we’ve already done?”
Tears dried on Letty’s face, replaced by an expression of relief.
“That’s the spirit!
“Don’t say that word,” Eulis muttered. “The only spirit I want is in a corked bottle.”
Letty grabbed him by the arm and led him across the street. “All in good time, Reverend Howe. All in good time.”
Eulis didn’t even notice that she’d called him by his ill-gotten name, because he was beginning to believe his own deception.
A small child darted across the street after a runaway kitten just as a big black horse entered town. The couple upon its back rode tall and quiet with little wasted motion, moving with the horse’s gait as if they were one.
It took Matt Goslin exactly thirty seconds to remember where he’d last seen that man. And when he did, he bolted inside his store and checked to see if the gun he kept behind the counter was loaded. It was. But little good it would be against the Breed if he chose to wreak the havoc for which he was known.
Joe Redhawk felt the stares before he saw the people. It did no good to care. For years it had been the same. If the sight of his brown skin and black hair didn’t strike fear in a white woman’s eyes, the gun on his hip did. It made no difference that he’d abandoned his Indian way of dress, and for the most part, his Indian ways. To them, he would always be a half-breed.
But that was before he’d met the woman who rode behind him. Before Caitie O’Shea. Now, unless something or someone stopped them, he was about to do something he’d never imagined. Not even in his wildest dreams. The half-breed was taking a wife.
Within moments of the sighting, word of the gunfighter’s appearance in Lizard Flats spread. Alfonso Worthy rolled from his marriage bed in fear that the bank was in danger of being robbed. The news left Sophie Hollis Worthy in a fainting fit, certain that her latest bed partner would suffer a fate similar to that of her first, and she would be forced to bury another man before she’d barely tried him out.
The smithy fired up the forge for no other reason than to have something to do, although a coal fire would do little to stop a man of Breed’s reputation.
Will the Bartender polished a few more glasses and popped the top on two new bottles. If things went according to usual, everyone in town would belly up to the bar for a shot of false courage.
Letty sat at a chair by the window in her room, watching Eulis sleeping the sleep of the dead. At the thought, she shuddered. She’d had her fill of dead men for one day.
But when she glanced out the window and saw the man riding in on that big black horse, she figured it was possible they’d be needing a new grave dug. And if Eulis came up missing in the middle of the need, someone might notice that the preacher wasn’t all he should be. Her anxiety increased as she watched him ride past.
The rider’s face was shadowed by a wide-brimmed hat that was as black as the hair hanging down around his collar. But she saw the way he wore his guns, and the way he sat loose in the saddle and knew she was right to worry. A gunslinger had come to Lizard Flats. Of all the faceless men who’d come and gone in her life, he was one she had not forgotten. He’d been kind, even gentle when he’d taken her to bed, and if she remembered correctly, had left her a five dollar gold piece instead of the dollar for which she’d asked.
As he passed, Letty noticed someone rode at his back. Someone small and shorn like a boy, but dressed in the fringed tunic of an Indian squaw. Someone whose bare legs shown as fair and white as the skin on Letty’s own breasts.
“What on earth?” Letty muttered.
“Jus’ pass me the bottle.”
She frowned at the lump of a man on her bed, walked over to where he was sleeping, and thumped him in the middle of the belly with a balled-up fist.
“Wake the hell up,” she hissed. “Trouble just rode into town.”
Eulis grabbed his belly as he rolled out of the bed. “Why did you hit me?”
“Look out the window,” she said.
Eulis kept rubbing his stomach. “I still don’t see why you had to go and hit me. I wasn’t hurtin’ you none and I don’t see what you’re so all-fired—”
He leaned all the way out the window then choked on his complaint. He’d seen the man before—in person as well as on wanted posters. He shuddered and ducked back into the room.
“I need a drink.”
Letty handed him a dipper of water.
“Not that kind of drink,” Eulis grumbled, and poured it back into the pitcher on the dresser.
“It’s that or nothin’,” Letty warned. “Put on your coat. Maybe you can stop whatever’s about to happen.”
Eulis gawked. “Why on earth would I be doin’ somethin’ like that?”
“Because you’re the preacher, that’s why,” she said, and handed him his suit coat. “And because if that gunslinger kills someone, they’re gonna be needing a grave. And if there’s no one to dig it, they might get to wonderin’ just where you have gone.”
Eulis went pale. With each passing moment, they kept getting deeper and deeper into the lie. And like Letty, he was so lost between fact and fiction that it hardly mattered anymore. He left the room, buttoning his coat and slicking down his hair. He needed to look good when he confronted the gunslinger. Maybe a killing could be averted. It was, after all, what a real man of God should do.
And So It Continues
Eulis was running when he got to the sidewalk. But the closer he got to the man on the horse, the slower he walked. His first suspicion had been right. It was the Breed! Then Letty pushed him forward, and it was too late to retreat.
The gunfighter’s eyes held no expression, except when he looked at the tiny woman riding behind him. When he did, something within him seemed to change. It was that single spark of humanity that gave Eulis courage. He looked up at the gunslinger, meeting his dark, brooding stare. While he was trying to find the right words to say, the Breed spok
e first.
“Are you the preacher?” Joe Redhawk asked.
“Yes, I’m Reverend Howe. How may I be of service?”
Joe dismounted and then turned, lifting Caitie high into the air and then standing her down beside him.
Caitie lifted her chin. “We’ve come to marry.”
Eulis was momentarily speechless.
It was Matt Goslin who spoke up. “You tryin’ to tell us that you… a white woman—are gonna marry some half-breed?”
Joe went still. Caitie felt his anger, but it was nothing to the rage that overwhelmed her.
“I’ll not be tellin’ ye anything, ye randy old goat.”
Shocked by the viciousness of her manner, Matt frowned.
“Now see here—”
“Be gone,” Caitie raged, waving him away with one sweep of her hand. “If I was after lookin’ at apes, I would have been stayin’ in Mudhen Crossing and watchin’ Milt and Art Bolin hang.”
Letty gasped. She’d heard of them. They were trouble-makers of the worst sort. Too stupid to hurt anyone except themselves, they still managed to raise hell wherever they’d gone.
“The Bolin Brothers are going to hang?” Letty asked.
“And happy to be doin’ so,” Caitie said. “It was meself, or the noose. They chose the rope, I’m told.”
Joe grinned. The residents of Lizard Flats were getting a giant dose of Caitie’s blarney. They had no way of knowing that the Bolins were safe in a territorial prison. For the time being, well out of Caitie O’Shea’s way.
But Caitie wasn’t through. She glared at the fancy dressed preacher and the woman beside him, daring them to add to Matt Goslin’s remarks.
“Now… as for the marryin’. Are ye about performin’ the ceremony, or are ye of a mind to stand with your jaw to your knees, tryin’ to swallow yerself whole?”
Eulis shut his mouth. It was the least he could do in the face of such fury.
“I’d be pleased to marry you, Miss… Miss…”
“Caitlin O’Shea, late of Dublin, Ireland, now residin’ wherever this man chooses to take me.”
“I hope you ain’t livin’ here,” Matt muttered. “People ain’t gonna feel right with a gunslinger in town. And they won’t take kindly to no white woman marryin’ up with an injun… even if he is half white.”
It was the insult to Caitie that Joe couldn’t ignore. His hand was on the hilt of his gun and Matt Goslin was wishing he’d kept his big mouth shut when Caitie stepped between them and poked her finger sharply in the middle of Matt’s belly.
“Joe Redhawk and meself will not be lingerin’ long in this hole of a town, so don’t concern yerself where we be layin’ our heads.”
Faced with the fury of such a tiny female, Matt decided that a retreat was in his best interest. No one seemed to care, and he’d never been happier for being snubbed. He disappeared into his store.
“Where do you want me to hold the sermon?” Eulis asked.
Joe had no answer. Where had not been an issue. Asking Caitie to marry him had taken all the guts that he had. The actual ceremony was an afterthought. In his heart, she was already his.
But Caitie had other issues. “I’m seein’ that ye’re not a priest.”
Eulis sighed. He wasn’t even a preacher, but at this point, that fact was redundant. He shook his head.
She frowned. “I’m supposin’ it hardly matters. I haven’t been to confession since I was seven years of age.” Then she glanced at Joe, gauging his patience before turning to Eulis again. “I don’t suppose ye’d be havin’ a church here, either?”
Since everyone else had been running their mouths, Letty decided it was time she tossed her opinions around.
“We have an arbor. It’s new. Brand new.”
Caitie frowned. “An arbor? I’m not knowin’ the name.”
“It’s sort of an outdoor church. We built it special, for the preacher’s arrival,” Letty said. “He’s giving a revival sermon in it tonight, but you could have the use of it first if you wanted.”
“Is it far?” Caitie asked.
“At the edge of town. Up on the hill opposite the cemetery.”
Joe lifted Caitie back into the saddle. For him, the decision had already been made.
“Just a little further, girl. Are you with me?”
Caitie nodded. “Aye, Joe. All the way.”
He sighed. The sound of his name on her lips made him weak inside. He wondered if this was what it felt like to love. If it was, it was both the best and the worst thing he’d ever experienced. He swung up behind her and rode out of town without looking to see if the preacher was following.
By the time they reached the arbor, word had spread through town that the Breed had come to get married. Most of the town, including the newlyweds, Alfonso and Sophie Worthy, came to bear witness. Sophie had a prance in her step and a smile on her face that hadn’t been there since her dearly beloved Nardin had passed. Alfonso swaggered.
For Eulis, it would be his fourth illegal ceremony in a single day, not counting the two men that he and Letty had buried. For a drunk, it was a hell of a way to get a glow.
As he took his place at the pulpit, he realized he was beginning to enjoy the power with which his words were being received. He opened his book to the same place he’d used when marrying Alfonso and Sophie.
“Dearly beloved, we meet here beneath this roof to join these two people in the bonds of wedlock.” Eulis couldn’t bring himself to say the word, holy. He gazed out across the assembly with what he hoped was benign interest. “So we begin. Do you—”
Caitie interrupted. “I, Caitie, am takin’ thee Joseph, as me lawfully wedded husband.”
Caitie’s words rang in Joe’s ears. Her face slid in and out of focus as he stared down at the freckles and the upturned nose and wondered how anyone could have mistaken her for a boy.
“I’m promisin’ everythin’ to him, for always… and I’m gladly pledgin’ meself to the only man I ever knew that didn’t give up on me.”
Joe didn’t know if it was happening, but he felt as if he’d risen a good foot from the floor. Her words made him weak, but her love made him strong. When she slid that tiny hand into his palm, he knew he could have walked blind through a hailstorm and not been harmed.
Eulis cleared his throat. She’d said all there was to say and more. He felt awe in the presence of such faith, and a bit of shame that he was not a true man of the cloth to give credence to the love that was so obviously between them.
“So be it,” he said. “And do you, Breed… I mean, Joe—”
Again he was lost. He didn’t have to look to know that Letty was standing behind him. He could hear her hissing like a pissed-off goose. It wasn’t his fault he kept getting this part wrong. He just didn’t know what to call the man.
To his relief, Joe took over.
“I, Joseph Redhawk, promise in front of everyone here that I’ll take care of and love Caitlin O’Shea for as long as I live. I will protect her and see that she has all she needs. And I will always keep my word, so help me God.”
Caitie beamed. It was done.
Eulis cleared his throat. “Then I pronounce you man and wife. Live long and prosper.” He grinned when the congregation broke into a round of applause. It had sounded good, even to him.
Joe grinned at the woman who stood at his side.
“If you had a regret, girl, it’s too late now.”
She arched her eyebrows as he lifted her into his arms and headed for his horse.
“I’ll be havin’ no regrets, Joe Redhawk, but I’m after thinkin’ it’s time ye stopped callin’ me girl.”
Joe set her in the saddle and then mounted behind her. To everyone’s delight, he kissed her soundly.
“Hang on, Caitie girl. If you get tired, put your arms around me. I won’t let you fall.”
Caitie sighed. Five of the sweetest words she’d ever heard. I won’t let you fall. Tears blurred her vision as she glanced at the evening s
un. It was time to look ahead, not back. With Joe beside her, she would never be afraid again.
“Well now,” Eulis said, as the townspeople watched them riding away. “That was a fine ending to an eventful day.”
Letty chewed nervously on her lower lip. If this day were only over, she might rest easy. But there was still tonight—and the sermon. After that, she had to find a believable way to get the preacher out of town and Eulis back into character. Unfortunately, her ideas had gone dry. The only hope she had was that Eulis would come up with something of his own.
Unbeknownst to her, he already had. If she’d had an inkling of his plans, she would have already been packing for an early escape. But she knew nothing except that people kept pouring town like mice to a threshing.
She’d not known there were this many people in the entire territory.
The Reckoning
The arbor sat on the hilltop like a hen roost. Nothing above the brushy roof but sky. Nothing below it but rows of boards atop borrowed kegs and boxes. Slap-shod pews that slowly filled with a motley assortment of people as the day continued to die.
They’d been arriving for hours. Families in the territory eager for the first hint of religion to come their way in years. They came on foot. By horseback. In wagons. But they came.
Thin-faced, ropey-skinned men tanned to a leathery red like the dirt beneath their feet. Wind-blown and harried women, old before their time with children scurrying around their skirt tails like little quail trying to get up the nerve to leave the covey. The slip-shod pews slowly filled with a mingling of work-weary and weathered humanity.
Randall Howe would have been shocked to know that so many souls were thirsting for need of The Word. Eulis Potter was scared shitless that they expected it to come from him.
Chilled with nerves, despite the lingering heat of the dying day, Eulis clutched the bible to his chest. He would rather it had been a bottle of Turkey Red whiskey, but all in all, he’d made it through in better shape than he would have imagined.
