BEAR CREEK (SAGE COUNTRY Book 1)

by Dan Arnold

  32.

  Unknown to me, Lora had arrived at the Bar C. She found me being helped down the stairs by Fred.

  By the time Bob had hauled me to the Bar C, all shot up, it was late in the day. It was nearly dark, when Doc Johnson had gotten me put back together, too late to send word into town. I had been out of it, and the others had not been thinking of Lora at that point. Annabelle sent Glen to fetch Lora first thing in the morning, just before I woke up. Lora had dropped everything, and Glen had driven her carriage out to the Bar C.

  From my elevated position on the stairs, I could see how beautiful she was, and how angry she was.

  As Fred helped me down the stairs, Lora was pacing in the foyer. No running up the stairs to relieve Fred. No calling my name and rushing to embrace me…none of that.

  I could see Fred was nearly as frightened as I was.

  When we reached the bottom of the stairs, she let me have it.

  “Oh! You idiot! How could you do this to me? John, you told me you were going to visit with the Sheriff of Chaparral County.”

  She was quite loud, it echoed in the huge room.

  We were at the bottom of the stairs. I wished I was back in bed.

  Fred, seeing the storm warnings, abandoned me.

  “If you folks will excuse me…”

  He ran away, the coward.

  “Glen told me, you and that Bob person, are looking for a killer.” Lora hissed.

  Glen chose that moment to open the front door. He looked back and forth between us.

  “I’ll wait by the carriage,” he said, quickly closing the door again.

  We were alone, at last.

  “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

  “Uh…I don’t feel too well.”

  I was down there at the bottom of the stairs, with my new suit coat draped over my left arm, that arm being in a sling, and I was leaning back against the elaborately carved newel post. It was only the post that was holding me upright.

  “Oh, John!” She came forward and put her face against my chest and started crying!

  I held her as best I could, with my right arm.

  After a little while, she looked up at me, with a somewhat more concerned expression.

  “How bad is it?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing serious. The bullet didn’t hit anything vital, Lora, I’m just a little stove up. I don’t exactly feel like dancing, but I’ll dance with you,” I grinned.

  “You could have been killed!” She snapped, suddenly angry again.

  “Glen told me you killed the other man,” Now, she was sad.

  I was having a hard time keeping up.

  Fortunately, Annabelle Courtney came to my rescue.

  “Lora, I’m so pleased you’re here. We’re having a problem with John here. He’s being obstinate and uncooperative. The doctor told him to take it easy, but he is willfully disobedient. Perhaps you can put him in his place.”

  I felt like a naughty six year old, in more ways than one.

  “Hello, Annabelle. Thank you so much, for all you’ve done,” Lora said. “I assure you he won’t be any further bother to you today.”

  “Won’t you stay for lunch, Lora? It’s a long drive back into town.”

  “Now hold on a minute. I’m right here. Y’all can speak to me, instead of about me, and who said anything about me going back into town?” I tried.

  “Oh, Annabelle, I’m so sorry for his rudeness and general lack of manners. Yes, thank you, we would be delighted to stay for lunch. Tell me, how is Bill doing?”

  The two ladies walked out of the foyer chatting together, leaving me to totter along behind them, as best I could.

  At lunch, we were joined by Lacey and Glen. I was informed that I would be riding back into Bear Creek, with Lora in her carriage. One of the Bar C cowboys, Junior, would be our driver.

  “Glen, thanks for bringing Lora out here,” I said the words, but I knew he understood I was being partly facetious.

  “I’m sorry you had to spend the whole morning driving back and forth between here and Bear Creek.”

  “No problem, John. Unlike you, I just do as I’m told,” He said, smugly.

  I saw Annabelle and Lacey look at each other meaningfully.

  After lunch, I was unceremoniously escorted to Lora’s carriage by Glen and Lora. I was glad to see Dusty, tied behind the carriage, next to Junior’s saddle horse. I took a moment to pat and rub on Dusty some, and then Glen helped me get up into the carriage. On the ride into town, the sun was beating down on my face. I sorely missed my hat, which was probably now blowing aimlessly down the road, somewhere to the east.

  When we got to Bear Creek, we dropped Dusty off at Al’s livery stable. I didn’t even get to get out of the carriage. Junior did it all. Then he drove us to Lora’s boarding house. I had protested this, of course. I pointed out that I was a grown man and I could take care of myself. That statement earned me the silent treatment for most of the ride between the Bar C and Bear Creek. Lora would only look at me, to see if I was still alive.

  At Lora’s, Junior helped Lora out of the carriage first, then he helped me. I felt useless, watching Junior drive the team to the carriage house, to unharness the horses and turn them out in the pasture. I was almost too weak and tired, to care.

  “The first order of business is to get you a bath,” Lora said, when we were inside.

  I was past complaining. In fact, a bath was a really good idea.

  There was one problem though; where was I going to take this bath? To my surprise, Lora had a bath room. A whole room, set aside for bathing, right next to her bedroom. It had a cast iron bath tub in it. Previously, I had been impressed that Lora had running water in the house. She had a cistern capturing rain water from the roof of the house and porch. This was piped indoors and fed by gravity flow for drinking water. She also had a windmill that pumped water from the creek, up the hill into a storage tank and then into the kitchen. She had water available, indoors, year round, rain or shine!

  But that wasn’t the marvel. The marvel was she didn’t have to haul hot water from the kitchen to her bathtub; she had a dedicated pipe for heated water.

  In the kitchen was a huge copper pot sitting on its own little stove. It was there solely for boiling water. That water could be drained out of the pot through a spigot on the front, or through a pipe in the side. The pipe carried hot water into the bathroom, and outside to the laundry room on the back porch.

  When she had heated enough water for the bath she filled the tub by turning the valve in the kitchen, then turning the valve on the faucet of the bathtub. That bathtub had hot and cold running water!

  “You know, my guests are not permitted to use this bathroom. They have to use the one upstairs and they have to haul their own hot water from the kitchen. It appears to me, even though you ‘are a grown man and able to take care of yourself’, that might be just a little too much work for you to do, in your present condition. Can you even pull your boots on?”

  I had known my previous statement was going to come back to haunt me.

  I sighed and shook my head. I couldn’t pull my boots on. Fred had helped me do that.

  “Can you take them off?”

  “Maybe, but it will probably take a while.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me.

  “Fine, you do that. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.” She breezed out of the bathroom.

  I was very proud of myself. Eventually, by pushing with the opposite foot, and using just my right hand, I was able to get both boots off. It was a difficult struggle.

  I was sitting on the edge of the tub, panting and sweating from the effort, when Lora came back into the bathroom, with a clean towel and washcloth.

  “Can you get dressed by yourself?”

  “No.”

  I could see this was going to be a problem. It was bad enough Fred had to help me get dressed. Now Lora would have to do it.

>   “Can you get undressed by yourself?”

  Her snotty attitude was beginning to annoy me.

  “Look Lora, if I take my time and exercise a little caution, I can get myself undressed and into the tub. I’m sorry I got shot, but I’m about done in. I don’t have enough energy left, to both bathe and fight with you.”

  “We’re not fighting, John. We’re just establishing the facts. Something you seem to struggle with.”

  She turned and left the bathroom again.

  I was able to shed my jacket and vest with very little trouble. Fred had helped me get my shirt on. When I tried to take it off, I discovered it was amazingly difficult. I had to grasp my right shirt cuff in my left hand and pull my right arm out of the sleeve. Holding the shirt cuff didn’t require me to move my left arm. But holding on to the cuff caused my bicep to flex a little, and it was no fun. I was able to gently pull the left sleeve down my arm, but I had to straighten the arm to do it. It was painful, but I was pleased I could do it.

  “The rest ought to be pretty simple,” I thought.

  I dropped my pants and stepped out of them, but when I tried to get out of my union suit, I discovered it fit me more tightly than my shirt had. Even though I got the buttons undone, I was bound up in my underwear. I was in trouble.

  Just then, Lora walked back in!

  She took one look at my red face and started laughing.

  It’s a wonder how quickly we can go from strength and independence to weakness and dependence. It’s humbling. We walk in our pride and dignity every day, but it’s an empty vapor.

  I was clearly embarrassed to be caught in my drawers, but I was out of options.

  “When you stop laughing, would you please help me with this…” I gestured at my predicament.

  “Of course, John, thank you for asking.”

  She held my right sleeve so I could pull my arm out and then she gently helped me peal the left sleeve off.

  “Somebody did a good job of sewing up the tears in these long johns,” she observed

  This was the first time she had ever seen me bare-chested. She was immediately drawn to the bandages. She removed those and examined the wounds.

  “Doc Johnson did a good job of stitching you up, too. These should heal nicely if we keep them clean. You’ve still got some dried blood on you and…oh, John, you’ve been hurt before!”

  She was examining my scars.

  “Thank you, baby, I’ve got it from here,” I said.

  “Oh, don’t be silly. I’ll help you finish getting undressed and into the tub.”

  “Uh…I can manage it.”

  Just like that, I knew I had made her angry again.

  “You are such a prude. Do you think I haven’t seen a man naked before? Who do you think you are? We’re engaged to be married and…I don’t know if that’s such a good idea anymore.”

  “What? Oh, baby, I’m sorry I got shot. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what Bob and I are doing…”

  “Shut up! Don’t you say another word to me!” She turned and stormed out.

  I stood there with the top of my drawers hanging around my waist, feeling helpless. I didn’t know where to go or what to do.

  Eventually, I got in the tub.

  I could hear bustling around in the kitchen. I knew she was working on getting supper ready for her guests.

  The difference between the sexes often causes conflict and miscommunication, equal to that between nations which speak different languages from each other.

  Men and women are so different we are strangers and aliens to each other.

  Thank God. That’s part of what makes it all so much fun!

  While I was soaking in the tub, taking care not to get water into my bullet wounds, I realized what was wrong.

  Lora was afraid.

  My being shot had frightened her. She had already lost one husband, and I had nearly gotten myself killed before we were even married. She was having trouble communicating that to me, possibly to herself, as well.

  In the same way hitting your thumb with a hammer makes you angry, the emotional pain was causing her to feel angry. Anger is the natural aggressive response to a real or perceived threat. It’s a survival instinct.

  There was a knock on the door. I quickly put the washcloth in a strategic location.

  Lora came in, carrying a robe. She hung it on a hook on the back of the door and started picking up my clothes.

  “John I don’t know if I can marry you. I can’t stand the thought you might leave for work one morning and never come back.”

  “I know baby. I understand. You’ve lost one husband and you can’t imagine going through the pain and loss again.”

  She came over and sat on the edge of the tub. I offered her my right hand and she took it.

  “That’s exactly the point. No, I can’t go through that again. I know you John. You won’t change. What you do is dangerous. What you do isn’t just a job, it’s who you are. The funny thing is I love you, partly because of that. I love you just the way you are. I’m confused. I need some time.”

  “OK. Nothing has changed for me. I’ll marry you tomorrow, if you’ll have me. You take all the time you need though. We can work through this. I love you and I want you to be my wife.”

  Later she brought me my supper on a tray, so I wouldn’t have to dress and join her boarders having dinner in the dining room.

  33.

  I spent the night in Lora’s bed. She slept somewhere else.

  In the morning, she helped me get dressed. I had a little better flexibility, but I was much sorer. After breakfast in the dining room with the other guests at Lora’s table, I walked up the hill into downtown Bear Creek.

  When I got to my office in the courthouse, I had a surprise.

  Walter Edward Burnside had arrived.

  He didn’t like to be called Walter, Walt, or Eddy. His friends call him Ed.

  Ed is a young guy who had been a deputy to some very good men in a couple of towns in Texas. I had gotten to know him some when I had been a Texas Ranger.

  He had left Texas to become a railroad detective, but when he found out what the railroad wanted him to do, he became dissatisfied with his employers, and they with him.

  After Ed got my telegram, it had taken him two weeks to get to Bear Creek, because he wouldn’t ride the railroad.

  Here was a ready-made young deputy I could trust. I introduced him to Hugh and Buckskin Charlie.

  “John, you look pretty stove up. What happened to your arm?” Ed asked, eyeing my sling. The others were equally curious.

  I told them the story.

  “Boys, here’s the situation. The town of Waller now has no sheriff. The man who had the job was an outlaw, on the run. Jack Slade was hiding in plain sight, under an assumed name. His body has probably turned up in Thorndyke, by now.

  Waller needs some sort of law enforcement, and I don’t intend to let it continue as a den of cut throats. I propose to put one of you in the town, in your official capacity as a Deputy Sheriff of Alta Vista County. You would look after the town and the surrounding farms and ranches. You’ll be answerable to the County Sheriff.” I pointed at myself.

  “Waller is barely in Alta Vista County, it’s at the eastern extreme of the county. The Omaha road runs right through the middle of the town, so there’s a lot of traffic through there. It’s a stop over town, for freighters and the stage line. I expect there’ll be conflict over issues associated with the county line. There may be problems with the local mayor because he owns the only saloon and ‘Mrs. Pool’s Boarding House’, a house of ill repute, just over the county line in Chaparral County.” I concluded.

  I let them think about all that for a moment.

  “I’m open to suggestions, so let’s discuss it.”

  Hugh was the first one to speak up.

  “I’m not sure you can pull that off, John. Politically, because it will involve a budget change, you’ll have to get approval from the County Commissioners. Yo
u would have to arrange for an office and housing for the deputy. You can’t prevent the town from hiring another sheriff. Also, we’re still understaffed here. If you send one of us over there, there’ll only be two of us here to run the jail and do whatever else needs to be done. We have three prisoners in here now, so you and Bob are the only ones who aren’t completely tied to the jail.” He looked worse than I felt.

  We all thought about what he had said.

  Buckskin Charlie spoke up next.

  “John, we don’t have any presence up at the mines in Flap Jack City, or even in North Fork. At some point we’re going to have to spread out from Bear Creek into the surrounding communities, but we aren’t ready yet. As it is now, the ore shipments and the payroll for the mines are being guarded by privately hired men. It ought to be done by this department.”

  I couldn’t argue with any of those points. The governor had specifically asked me to address some of those issues, so I knew I could count on his support, but it would take some time and money to get them done.

  “You’re right, boys. We’ll get the ball rolling, but it’ll take some time to get there, and we’ll be rolling it up-hill, all the way. In the mean-time, here’s the way I want to organize the Sheriff’s department.

  When I was a Ranger we had rank. I was a sergeant in the Rangers. We’ll do the same thing here. I’m the Sheriff; Hugh will be a captain and Chief Deputy. Buckskin Charlie is a lieutenant and you, my young friend, are a sergeant,” I indicated Ed. “Bob will be a lieutenant as well. New recruits will just be deputies. This will establish the pay grades and provide incentive for promotion. New recruits will start working in the jail and be trained by the Chief Deputy.”

  I looked at Hugh.

  He nodded. I could see he was pleased with my thinking.

  “Hugh, I’ll write up those advertisements we talked about. We’ll run ads in several newspapers and have some handbills printed up. We’ll get some new recruits. How many do you think we’ll need?”