Rattler's Law, Volume One

by James Reasoner

  But that was exactly what Jessica had been looking for. After long hours of high stakes and high pressure at the gaming tables in other saloons, she wanted a glass of smooth whiskey and a little quiet conversation, nothing more. Angus had been happy to provide both.

  The two of them had hit it off from the start. Both had traveled widely. Angus had seen more of the eastern part of the country than Jessica had, while Jessica had traveled throughout the West. Jessica didn’t mind talking about the places she had been, although Angus noticed that she was reticent about revealing any details of what she had done there. It was possible, given her looks and sensuous air, that she had been a prostitute at one time. Angus didn’t care about that; he had learned long ago that people did what they had to in order to survive. Besides, he felt no particular romantic interest in Jessica. As far as he was concerned, she was good company and had the makings of a splendid friend.

  "Did I tell you what happened last night?" Jessica asked now.

  Angus shook his head. "I dinna think so."

  "Some foolish young cowboy accused me of cheating." Jessica laughed. "As if I'd need to cheat to take money away from some wet-behind-the-ears puncher who was too busy looking down my dress to concentrate on his cards."

  Angus's eyes dropped for a second to the deep cleavage Jessica's low-cut dress displayed. Her full breasts were impressive, as was the valley between them. Angus could see how such a view might distract a youngster who hadn’t seen a woman in weeks. He shook his head and clucked his tongue. "The lad did'na know wha' he was saying."

  "I set him straight pretty quick. The bouncer at the Alamo was going to toss him out, and I thought for a minute that the kid was going to go for his gun. He didn't expect me to come up with a derringer."

  Angus eyed the way Jessica's dress hugged her figure and gave a mock-lecherous grin. "I reckon the young scut figgered there was no place ye could hide a gun."

  Jessica returned the grin. "You'd be surprised at the places I can hide things, Angus," she quipped in a throaty voice.

  Angus threw back his head and laughed. But he suddenly stopped as he noticed the door of the tavern fly open and a small, slender young woman step inside, slamming the heavy door behind her.

  Angus was dumbstruck. Abilene's ladies simply didn’t enter saloons. A gambling woman like Jessica—part lady, part wench—was always welcome. Occasionally a prostitute would wander in.

  But the proper, tiny woman who had slammed the door was a different story. As Angus watched her, he was reminded of an outraged society spitfire. She stood just inside the entrance glaring angrily around the room.

  Silence fell over the tavern as the handful of customers and young Augie, who was tending the bar, stared at the newcomer. A frown appeared on Jessica's face. A moment went by before the quiet was abruptly shattered.

  "Come in outta the cold!" Old Bailey screeched. "Come in outta the cold, dearie!"

  The young woman took a deep breath and stepped forward. Her face still tight with disapproval, she demanded, "I want to speak with the owner of this place."

  Angus sensed this little mite of a woman meant trouble. He exchanged a quick glance with Jessica and saw from her expression that she agreed with him. Pushing back his chair, he stood up and faced the young woman.

  "Me name is Angus MacQuarrie," he rumbled, "and I be the owner o' this tavern."

  The petite brunette peered at him, then strode purposefully toward him, her expression determined. But Angus thought he saw a hint of nervousness in her eyes. He knew his broad-shouldered, heavyset frame made him an imposing figure, and he probably appeared even more threatening to someone as tiny as this young woman.

  "I'm Augusta Hall," she announced haughtily, stopping a few feet away from him.

  Angus wondered if he was supposed to have heard of her. Judging by her attitude, he thought it was possible. But to the best of his recollection, he had never seen her before in his life. "Good evening t' ye, Miss Hall," he said, keeping his voice pleasant. "Wha' kin I do f' ye?"

  "You can close down this ungodly citadel of sin, that's what you can do!" Augusta Hall proclaimed.

  Angus blinked and frowned. Behind him, he heard Jessica gasp. The Scotsman said slowly, "I'm sorry, Miss Hall, but I dinna understand—"

  "I'm from the Christian Ladies Temperance Society," Augusta cut in, "and I demand that you close this tavern and stop corrupting innocent people with your hellish liquor!"

  Several customers gasped, but no one said a word, and a stunned silence fell over the room. Again, the parrot broke it by squawking, "Devil be damned! Awk! Devil be damned!" Then Old Bailey let loose a streak of profanity that made even Angus pale.

  "Shut ye beak!" he roared at the garishly colored bird. Then he swung around to face Augusta and went on hurriedly, "I'm apologizing t' ye, Miss Hall. I dinna know where yon bird learned such language."

  "Probably from you and your customers, Mr. MacQuarrie," Augusta snapped. "Now, are you going to comply with my request or not?"

  Angus spread his big hands helplessly. "I kinna. This tavern be me livelihood, miss."

  "I'd be ashamed to admit I lived off the suffering of others," Augusta countered icily.

  So far Jessica Partin had been quiet, but now she stepped around the table and said angrily, "See here, you've got no right to talk like that! What do you mean, coming in here and insulting people and making ridiculous demands—"

  Angus waved a hand to stop her. "I kin handle this, Jessica, but ye have me thanks f' trying t' help. I'm sure the lass means no harm."

  "That's where you're wrong, Mr. MacQuarrie," Augusta declared. "I do mean to harm you, or at least your unholy business. I intend to close it and all the other saloons in Abilene."

  The tavern's customers muttered angry protests. They were not used to seeing righteous society women like Augusta in places such as this, and they certainly didn’t take kindly to being threatened. One of the cowboys at the bar called out, "What's the matter with you, little gal? You got a burr under your saddle or somethin'?"

  Augusta swung to face him, her tiny hands clenching into fists. "I do indeed have a 'burr under my saddle', sir," she raged. "It's the burr of evil drunkards like yourself!"

  "Now hold on!" the puncher growled. "I ain't been drunk for nigh on to a month. You got no call to say such a thing."

  "I have the highest call of all. I'm on a crusade to see that places like this are abolished."

  Other customers began to protest more stridently, and soon the shouting in the tavern was deafening. Angus stepped to the center of the room, raising his brawny arms for quiet. "Tha' be enough from all o' ye!" he thundered. "I won’t have a rookus in me tavern, and I won’t have ye gentlemen speaking harshly to a lady."

  "She's no lady," Jessica roared. "She's one of those damned temperance fanatics."

  Augusta gave her a disdainful look. "I'm not going to bother responding to comments from a...a woman of the streets."

  "What?" Jessica exploded. "What are you calling me, you...you little—"

  Angus moved quickly between the two women, more quickly than a man of his bulk should have been able to. Facing Augusta, he said, "I think 'twould be best if ye left, now, Miss Hall." He reached out to put a hand on her arm, intending to steer her gently toward the door. "I really must insist—"

  "Get your hands off me, you whoremonger!" Augusta exclaimed. She lashed out with the purse she was carrying, smacking it into the side of Angus's head.

  Under other circumstances this situation might have been comical, but Angus sensed it was about to deteriorate badly. He lifted his hands to ward off Augusta's blows. But before he could do anything else, an angry blonde vision lunged past him. Jessica clamped a hand on Augusta's shoulder, spun her around, and shoved her away from Angus. "Stop that!" she cried. "Stop it, you little bitch!"

  "Oh!" Augusta's face paled, and her features twisted with pain or anger—or both. Something inside her seemed to snap because her eyes narrowed peculiarly. She sudd
enly drove a fist toward Jessica. The bigger woman made quite a target. Augusta's punch thudded into her midsection and made her stagger, as much from surprise as from the impact of the blow.

  Jessica glanced down at the spot where the punch had landed. When she looked up, she was grinning dangerously. "All right, lady," she declared. "If that's the way you want it."

  Whoops of encouragement roared from the watching cowboys, while Angus shouted, "No!"

  But his cry was too late. Jessica threw a punch, hurling all her weight and strength behind it. Augusta's eyes widened in sudden fear, and she flung herself to the side just in time to avoid the main force of the blow. Still, it clipped her on the cheek and spun her halfway around. Clutching at a table, she caught her balance as Jessica attacked again. Angus watched in horror.

  Augusta was overmatched, and she seemed to know it. Nevertheless, she met Jessica's charge—grappling, clawing, and scratching. The two women staggered across the room. Augusta hung onto Jessica with one arm and used the other to snap several punches into the older woman's breasts. Outraged, Jessica howled and flailed at her opponent's head, but Augusta was too close. Jessica didn’t have enough room to throw a proper punch.

  But Angus knew it was only a matter of time before Jessica's superior weight and experience would win out. If any of her punches connected fully, it might snap Augusta's head off. He moved forward, watching for an opening as the two women careened around the tavern. The cowhands at the bar kept hollering, anxious to see the young temperance advocate get what they thought was coming to her. Bets flew back and forth, most of the men wagering on Jessica to win handily.

  Suddenly Angus, thinking that he saw a chance to get between them and separate them, leaped at the battling females. At the same moment, Augusta ducked as Jessica launched a punch. Angus arrived just in time for Jessica's fist to crash powerfully into his nose. Angus yelped and stumbled backward, his hands flying to his injured nose as blood gushed from it.

  "Angus! Oh, no! I'm so sorry!" Jessica cried, cradling her throbbing hand.

  She shouldn’t have turned her attention away from Augusta. The young woman lowered her head and charged, butting Jessica in the stomach and grabbing her around the waist. Air heaved out of Jessica's lungs. Augusta kept her feet moving, pushing her opponent toward the doorway.

  Jessica's back slammed into the door; the impact of the two bodies splintered the facing. The door burst open, spilling the women out into the autumn night.

  Angus shook his head to clear it, and droplets of blood flew off his swollen nose. Then he charged after them. He had to stop this fight, or he would have a devil of a time explaining how two ladies had beaten each other to death in front of his tavern.

  Cully Markham, glad that he had thought to put on a jacket and hat before he stepped out in the cool night air, strolled down the boardwalk on the south side of Texas Street. It was early yet; Lucas Flint would be making the official rounds later. Cully was heading toward Angus's. He was looking forward to having a drink and spending a few minutes conversing with the big Scotsman.

  As he drew even with the entrance of the Grand Palace Hotel, Cully glanced through the glass panels in the double doors into the shabby lobby. He saw no sign of Augusta Hall inside, not that he really expected to see her. He hadn’t spoken to her since she left him at the Methodist Church the day before to go off with Joshua. Nor had he seen her since the previous night when he watched the two of them coming back from the temperance meeting.

  Miss Augusta Hall was none of his business, he told himself. She had made it clear that she preferred Joshua's company to his, and it was all right with Cully if things stayed that way. Grinning, he shook his head and moved on. Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he would wind up believing it.

  Whoops and yells coming from Angus's two doors away prompted Cully to increase his pace. Either the tavern's customers were having a mighty good time tonight, or something else was going on—like a fight. A mischievous grin tugged at Cully's mouth. It had been a while since he had seen a good saloon brawl. He might watch it for a little while before he broke it up.

  He was in front of Rose Keller's office when Angus's door crashed open and two struggling figures half fell, half staggered onto the boardwalk. Cully yelled, "Hey!" The combatants, skirts swirling, stumbled to the edge of the planks, then lurched right off and landed in the dusty street.

  Cully broke into a run, barreling toward the two women who were now rolling over and over in the dirt, clawing and punching each other for all they were worth. Angus burst out of the tavern, saw the deputy coming down the boardwalk, and shouted, "Help me stop 'em a'fore they kill each other!"

  The battling women came up on their knees, their faces finally illuminated by the boardwalk lantern light and the glow that spilled through the tavern's open door. Cully was shocked when he recognized Augusta Hall. The big blonde fighting with her was Jessica Partin, the gambling lady who had drifted into town a couple of weeks earlier, and it looked as though she definitely had the upper hand. She launched a blow that Augusta couldn’t block in time, and with a sharp crack Jessica's fist met the younger woman's jaw.

  Cully reached Augusta in time to catch her as she fell backward. Angus swooped in, flung his arms around Jessica, and picked her up, twisting away with her. She struggled for a moment longer, then realized who was holding her and sagged in Angus's arms.

  Cully stood up, lifting Augusta. Her head lolled loosely on her shoulders. She was as light as he figured she would be. He easily carried her to the boardwalk and laid her gently on the planks. Then, kneeling beside her, he cradled her head in his lap. In the lantern light he saw that her bruised jaw was already starting to swell and darken.

  "I'm all right now, Angus," Jessica said wearily. "Put me down." When he did, she hurried to the boardwalk and stared anxiously down at Augusta. "Oh, damn, I didn't kill her, did I?" she asked Cully.

  "She's breathing," Cully replied. "I think she's just knocked out. That's quite a punch you've got, Miss Partin."

  "Aye. I kin attest t' tha'," Angus put in and winced as he touched his nose. It had stopped bleeding, but the front of his shirt was spattered with crimson.

  "What happened to you, Angus?" Cully asked. "You look like you ran into a wall." The deputy glanced at Jessica. "You don't mean to tell me—"

  "Aye, and certain I be ye won’t tell Lucas about this little incident."

  If he hadn’t been worried about Augusta, Cully would have laughed out loud at the sheepish expression on Angus's face. As it was, he grinned for a second, then turned his attention back to the young woman lying on the boardwalk.

  Augusta was slowly moving her head, moaning softly, and her eyelids were fluttering. A moment later she opened her eyes fully and stared up at him. "Wh-what happened?" she stammered weakly.

  "You got knocked out," Cully told her. "Why don't you just lay still for a minute and rest?" He looked up at Angus and, without thinking, went on, "Bring us a shot of whiskey, will you? I reckon it might do Miss Augusta some good about now."

  "No!" she cried before Angus could reply. "I...I don't want any of that...that evil liquor!" Augusta pushed herself to a sitting position and glared at Jessica, who was standing nearby with a concerned look on her face. Pointing a wobbling finger at the older woman, Augusta said thickly, "I want that hussy arrested!"

  "Wait just a minute," Jessica countered. Now that it was obvious that Augusta was a little stunned but not seriously injured, Jessica's anger returned. "She's the one who came into the tavern and started making a damned nuisance of herself."

  "Oh!" Augusta cried, outraged at Jessica's language.

  "And she's the one who threw the first punch, isn't that right, Angus?" the gambling lady continued.

  Angus shrugged his broad shoulders. "Aye, Cully," he rumbled. "Wha' Miss Partin says is true. ’Twas Miss Hall who struck the first blow."

  Cully got to his feet and helped Augusta to hers. As she straightened her dress, the deputy asked, "Wha
t about that, Miss Hall? Is that the way it happened?"

  "I was merely trying to convince a pack of drunken heathens that they had best change their ways," Augusta said righteously. "That...that woman assaulted me!"

  "I just kept you from whaling the tar out of Angus!" Jessica shot back.

  Cully held up his hands. "Look, ladies, I reckon I understand that the two of you don't get along. You both took some punishment, so it looks to me like there's no need to arrest anybody. Why don't the two of you just shake hands and call off this fight?"

  Both women stared at him as if that were the most ludicrous idea they had ever heard. "Not likely," Jessica said flatly. Augusta shook her head adamantly.

  "This isn't over," she declared. "It was just the first battle in the war against alcohol." She turned to face Angus. "I'm warning you, Mr. MacQuarrie. Change your ways or suffer the consequences." With that, she turned and stalked down the boardwalk.

  Cully glanced at the tavern keeper. "Are you going to be all right, Angus?"

  "Aye, lad." Angus touched his bloody, puffed-up nose and grimaced. "I dinna think me nose be broken, just a wee bit tender at the moment."

  "Oh, I'm so sorry, Angus," Jessica murmured, slipping her arm around him. "I didn't mean to hit you. I was aiming at that little—"

  "Ah, ah," Angus admonished her. "’Twill do no good to call the lass unpleasant names. She has her way o' looking at things, and we have ours."

  "Maybe so, but she doesn't have to be so damned snippy about it."

  Cully looked at Augusta's stiff back disappearing into the darkness and thought he saw her stumble. "I reckon I'd best go after her and make sure she doesn't get into any more trouble tonight," he said. "I'll see you later, Angus."

  The Scotsman lifted a big hand in farewell, and Cully hurried after Augusta. He caught up to her just as she reached the entrance to the Grand Palace Hotel, but to his surprise, she didn’t turn in. Instead, she kept moving.

  "Excuse me, Miss Hall," Cully said as he came up beside her. "Aren't you going back to your room?"

  Augusta shook her head and answered without looking at him, "I'm too upset right now, Deputy. I think I need to walk a bit and cool off. Is there any law against that?"