by Adam Brady
She hurried out of the room and went downstairs to the barroom.
Four customers had arrived, and they were talking and joking with Harper as they waited for him to pour the first drinks of the day.
Ignoring the customers, Julie went straight up to Harper and said;
“Mr. Halliday is in the street now, Josh. Would you go tell him I want to see him right away?”
“Sure, Mrs. Henley,” Harper said, and pulled off the apron and left it on the counter.
When he reached the street, he saw that Halliday was already on his way to the saloon.
“The boss lady wants to see you,” he said. “And she’s actin’ like there’s a bee in her bonnet.”
Halliday nodded but instead of going straight to the saloon, he sauntered toward the livery stable. It was a good half an hour later when he finally pushed his way through the batwings.
Julie was waiting for him, with an angry spot of color flaming on each cheekbone.
“Well, it’s awfully nice of you to finally show up for work,” she said sharply. “I suppose you had more important things on your mind, did you?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. My horse, for one thing.”
“And the Cowper girl, I suppose?”
“What are you gettin’ at, Julie?” Halliday asked quietly.
“I saw you in the street ... with her.”
“If you have somethin’ to say to me, spit it out,” Halliday said impatiently.
“Yes, I do have somethin’ to say, Buck. I’ve got big plans for us—wonderful plans—and I don’t want half the town laughin’ at me behind my back.”
“What are you talkin’ about now?” Halliday demanded.
“I’m talkin’ about us, Buck, what else? You know I’m twice the woman that mealy-mouthed Beth Cowper is ... and I want you to stay away from her.”
“Hold on a minute, Mrs. Hen—”
“Don’t call me that. I told you never to call me by that name again, ever!”
Halliday waited for her anger to subside, then he answered her in a firm, quiet voice.
“You hired me to do a job for you ... to keep thing’s runnin’ smooth in the saloon, that’s all.”
Julie drew herself rigidly to her full height. She was strikingly beautiful and mad as hell.
“I want you,” she said flatly, “and I’m willin’ to share everything I’ve got to have you for my own, Buck Halliday.”
Halliday looked at her uneasily. The drinkers at the bar were being careful not to look their way, but their ears were just about burning.
Julie had the kind of body that could turn strong men into boys, and there was no doubt that she had the spunk to stand up to Jason Henley and spit in his eye. For Halliday, the trouble was that she was not Beth Cowper.
“You’ve got yourself all het up over nothin’,” Halliday said finally. “All things considered, I don’t think workin’ for you is such a good idea after all. I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to get yourself another man.”
Julie stared at him in open-mouthed shock, and then she slapped his face with all the strength she could muster.
She saw his eyes narrow in anger, and she involuntarily took a step back, knowing that she had gone too far.
A moment passed, and then Halliday looked down at her. His face now showed no feeling at all.
“That was a foolish thing to do ... Mrs. Henley. It’s easy enough for a man to buy a woman in these parts, I suppose, but I figure a woman would have to go all the way to someplace like New York to buy herself a fancy man ... if that’s what you’re lookin’ for.”
He stepped around her and walked out of the saloon without a backward glance. He stopped long enough to roll a cigarette in the shade of the awning, and then he went straight to the Cowper house.
The judge was sitting alone on the shady front porch, but Beth soon joined him when she heard Halliday’s voice.
As she slipped into the chair beside her uncle, Halliday was saying;
“I haven’t told you what I think will happen next, Judge.”
“What do you mean, Buck?” Cowper asked.
“Henley will come back. And he’ll have some gunman to back him.”
“Surely not!” Beth gasped.
“I reckon so,” Halliday said firmly. “And it won’t be long before he gets here.”
Cowper scrubbed a hand anxiously over his chin, shook his head despondently and asked tightly;
“Then there’ll be more killing and more trouble?”
“Most likely so,” Halliday said, “meanin’ this town might still be able to use a peace officer that knows how to use a gun.”
Cowper nodded and said at once, “The job is still yours, Mr. Halliday, if you want it. All you have to do is say the word.”
“All right, Judge, that’s exactly what I was hopin’ to hear you say. I’ll take it.”
Beth kept silent for a few moments, and then she said, “What about the saloon job ... Buck?”
“Mrs. Henley can look after herself,” Halliday said, and he saw a gleam of satisfaction in Beth’s eyes.
Judge Cowper was grinning broadly.
“I can have you sworn in today, if that’s all right with you,” he said. “By the way, what made you change your mind? You don’t strike me as a man who does that very often.”
“I usually don’t,” Halliday said as he looked straight at Beth.
The girl looked down at her lap, and her face took on a rosy glow that had nothing to do with the heat of the day.
An hour later, the new sheriff of Shimmer Creek pinned on his badge.
Eight – Bassett’s Big Play
Tom Bassett paced up and down relentlessly, cursing the heat, the hunger gnawing at his belly, and the buzzards that were circling with their eyes on the arroyo which held what was left of Ben Albert.
Jason Henley’s temper was no better. He was tired of waiting for the stage and tired of watching Bassett.
“Why don’t you settle down to wait?” Henley suggested reasonably. “Marchin’ up and down in this heat won’t make that stage come any sooner, you know. Besides, you’re driving me loco, just watching you.”
Bassett stopped and glared at him sullenly.
“You want to sit and stew in your own sweat, that’s up to you, Mr. Henley! We’re both waitin’, and I guess we each have our own idea of how to go about it.”
Henley raised his eyebrows in surprise at the depth of Bassett’s impatience. He decided this was not the time to push too hard.
“Ben Crowe will fix everything soon enough,” he said. “Just see if he doesn’t. All we have to do is wait for the stage to come. We’ll just climb on board with Crowe and ride back to Shimmer Creek in style. Once we’re there, it’s just a matter of pointing Crowe in the right direction and standing back and watching.”
“All I can think of is Halliday, struttin’ all over town while we sit here bakin’ in this goddamn heat!” Bassett complained. “Could be he’s with your wife now, with her pleasurin’ him just like she used to cozy up to all the rest of—”
Henley’s stare hardened.
“What was that you said, mister?”
Bassett looked away.
“I’m right sorry I let that slip, Mr. Henley,” he said. “Didn’t mean to.”
“Well, it did slip, all the same. You better tell me what you’re talking about—right now.”
“Okay, I will. Your wife is the kinda female that just can’t get enough of men, Mr. Henley. She—ain’t exactly particular about who she chooses, either. We never let on to you, because we figured you’d blame us more for tellin’ you than you’d blame her for the way she is.”
Henley got up slowly and clenched his fists, shaking his head in denial.
“Damn you, Bassett, you’re lyin’ to me.”
“No, Mr. Henley, it ain’t a lie. It was Rafe that first got wise to her. But he got kinda scared when she wouldn’t give him no peace and kept hangin’ around him when he had work to
do. I mean it when I say I’m sorry you found out like this, but hell, maybe it’s for the best. She’s been chasin’ after just about everybody wearin’ long pants, and that includes me ... and now Halliday.”
Henley staggered back as if somebody had struck him. He sat down heavily and put his hands over his face. He stayed that way for a long time before he spoke again.
“Tell me you’re lyin’. For hell’s sake, tell me it ain’t so. Maybe you’re mad at me, or maybe it’s just that the heat’s got your head. Is that it?”
Bassett hesitated before he gave his answer, but he had no reason to fear Henley now, and he had no reason to sympathize with him either.
“It ain’t a lie,” he said firmly. “That woman of yours is just plain no good, Mr. Henley.”
Suddenly, Henley lunged at him, and Bassett knew that he had gone too far. He scrambled back but Henley kept coming and Bassett lashed out with his fist in attempt to ward him off.
Raving and snarling like a maddened beast, Henley bored in, smashing blow after blow into Bassett’s face until his fists were covered in blood.
Bassett gave ground and braced himself so that when Henley ran at him again, he ducked and drove his shoulder into the man’s chest.
Henley backed away as soon as he had his balance, but it was clear that he was only catching his breath.
Bassett had no desire to go after him, so he simply stood and waited with his hands hanging by his sides.
“Mr. Henley,” he started to say, “fightin’ me ain’t gonna change nothin’, and I’m real sorry that it ain’t.”
Bellowing like an enraged bull, Henley came charging in again. Shocked by the man’s unstoppable rage, Bassett turned and tried to run, but Henley jumped onto his back and began to pound him viciously with his fists. It appeared that he could not stop himself. He was cursing and sobbing uncontrollably now, and his weight drove Bassett to the ground.
Bassett saw a rock just beyond his reach, and he squirmed forward, dragging both his own weight and the man on his back until his fingers closed on the rock. Gathering all his strength, he wrenched his body around until he was facing Henley.
He lashed out three times, and he got Henley in the face twice. When the man collapsed, Bassett pushed himself to his knees then got shakily to his feet.
Blood ran from the fresh gashes in his face, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He inspected his swollen fists and decided that one finger was broken.
Henley did not move for several minutes, and when he finally showed some sign of life, Bassett rushed in and kicked him in the head.
The sunset was turning the desert red now, and Bassett seemed uncertain what to do next.
“Hell, I didn’t mean for all that to happen,” he complained. “I was just so damn tired of waitin’ ...”
Henley did not stir.
Bassett was telling the truth. He had not meant to beat up the man who had paid his wages. Once the fight started, he almost felt like he was up against Halliday, and that he was winning. Maybe that was what Henley had been feeling, too.
Bassett looked at the sky and lit a cigarette while he wrestled with the problem of what to do next.
It dimly seemed that everything could be put back just the way it was, if only he could be the one to put paid to Buck Halliday ...
Slowly, he mounted his horse and headed back to Shimmer Creek.
Buck Halliday walked the streets for half an hour after sundown and found no trouble.
The saloon was doing a solid trade. Halliday stopped in twice and each time he spotted Julie Henley somewhere in the crowd. For the moment anyway, she seemed to be interested only in the money which was rolling in.
He went to the livery and checked on the sorrel. He stroked the horse’s nose and talked to it for awhile and then left instructions with the liveryman to give the horse extra oats.
After spending twenty minutes there, he retraced his steps through town.
He was passing the Cowper house when the door opened and Beth stepped out onto the porch. In the dim light coming from the house, Halliday could see her body outlined clearly in a graceful silhouette.
He had a mind to go up to the gate and speak to her, but instead, he went on by the house and headed for the saloon.
He had his hands on the swing doors when Tom Bassett limped into the saloon through the back door. The man looked like he’d been trampled in a stampede. His shirt hung in ragged strips, every inch of skin was blistered, bruised or bleeding.
Their eyes met across the big room, and Bassett spat out a curse and faded back into the night. Halliday ran after him, but when he reached the yard, it was empty and silent.
He stood listening with his hand resting on his gun butt until a shadow cut across the strip of light coming from the saloon.
Julie Henley was watching him from the back step.
“What is it, Buck? Is it Jason?”
“No, it’s Tom Bassett,” he told her and shepherded her back into the saloon. “He’s out there somewhere. I sure thought he’d have more sense.”
“Are you sure it was him?” Julie asked. “I can’t believe he’d come back here, not after what you did to him. He might not be very smart, but I never would’ve said he was crazy as a loon.”
“It was Tom Bassett, all right, and he’s one helluva mess. I don’t know what happened to him after he left here, but it sure must’ve been bad. Whatever’s goin’ on, I reckon you should stay inside and clear the saloon. Tell everybody to get on home as fast as they can, Julie.”
Halliday closed the door on her as she continued to protest, and then he stepped back into the darkness of the yard.
He stopped several times to listen as he crossed the yard. He found Bassett’s sweat-slicked horse hitched to the corner yard post and went past it into the alley. There was no sign of Bassett anywhere.
Halliday finally cut through the alley and came out onto Main Street. Men from the saloon were milling around with no place to go, clearly confused by the early closing. A few words from their new lawman sent them hurrying home.
The street finally emptied and silence settled again, heavy and oppressive. It felt like trouble.
Halliday made a full tour of the street, checking doorways on both sides of the street, and then he returned to the saloon and called for Julie. Nobody answered. He tried the door but it was locked. He hurried around to the back and called again. Still no answer. Maybe she was doing exactly as she had been told, but somehow he doubted it. She would have heard him call.
The back door was also locked, so he put his shoulder to it and smashed his way inside.
Going down the passageway to the barroom, he heard a scuffle of movement upstairs and then a muted cry. He bounded up the stairs three at a time and turned into the corridor just as Bassett burst out of Julie’s room with Henley’s little sneak gun in one hand and an untidy bundle of money in the other.
They saw each other at the same time, but Bassett was moving fast. He skidded down the hallway and tore open the door at the end that led to the upstairs balcony as Halliday’s bullets peppered the plastered walls behind him.
Halliday pounded after him, but Bassett hurled himself off the gallery and dropped down to the yard below. When Halliday reached the railing, he could hear running footsteps scurrying away into the night.
Julie Henley was lying on the floor in her room when Halliday reached her. She groaned but did not speak as Halliday lifted her gently and placed her on the bed. He took a towel from the washstand to wipe the blood oozing from the deep gash on her forehead, and then he folded the towel into a pad and laid it over the cut.
Unable to help her anymore, he went downstairs and let himself out into the street again. Judge Cowper was there with Beth, with other people crowding around them.
“What’s happening, Sheriff?” Cowper asked tightly.
“It’s Tom Bassett,” Halliday said. “He’s back, and he just attacked Mrs. Henley. Somebody needs to call the doc and see he gets to th
e hotel and back. Everybody else should go back home right now and stay there.”
“Perhaps we can help,” Cowper offered, and several men in the crowd nodded agreement. “I think it’s about time the men of this town did something to—”
“Look, folks,” Halliday interrupted, “you’re just makin’ it harder for me if you hang around in the street. If there’s shootin’, I don’t want to be holdin’ back because someone might get in the way.”
That seemed to satisfy most people, and the crowd began to break up. The judge still stood his ground however, and his chin was raised in a look of stubborn determination.
“There’s no time to argue this, Judge,” Halliday told him bluntly. “It ain’t safe out here.”
Beth nodded and put her hand on her uncle’s arm. They started to move away, but then she turned back to Halliday and said;
“Do you think I could be of some help to Mrs. Henley, Buck?”
Halliday seemed to consider her offer for a moment, but then he said, “Let the doc do it. You two just get on home. You’ll be safer there.”
Finally, the street was empty. Halliday stepped into a doorway and checked his six-gun. Then he settled back to wait. He knew that Bassett had come back for him, and he decided that the best thing to do would be to try and flush him out while the town was quiet.
Moving slowly and looking into every dark doorway, he went down one side of the street and came up the other. He was relieved to see that most folks now had their houses locked up for the night with the curtains drawn.
He was standing out front of the jailhouse when he heard a board creak. He stopped, strained his eyes and ears.
A minute passed. A tomcat yowled somewhere on the edge of town. A light wind started to blow, and the branch on an overgrown bush scratched against a window down the street.
Halliday made to turn away, but then he whirled and shoulder-charged the door of the law office, smashing it inward with such force that it tore loose from its hinges.
Halliday fell into the office on top of the door and immediately rolled to the side.
He got just a glimpse of Tom Bassett before the bullets began to fly. He came up on his elbows to return Bassett’s fire, and this time, he made no mistake.
