Between Hell and Texas

by Ralph Cotton

  Stepping forward the young woman stood erect, leveling her shoulders, jutting her breasts beneath the low bodice of her red dress. “My name is Miami…Miami Jones, after the town where I grew up.”

  “Miami, eh?” said Lematte, motioning her closer. “I’m not paying your travel fare all the way from Florida. Where were you when you took up my offer to come here?”

  “Houston,” she said. “I tore one of your flyers off of a post outside an opium parlor.”

  “Yeah, Houston,” said Lematte, “that’s more like it.” He gave a gesture toward the tight buttons of her dress. “Open up wide for me, Miami. Let’s see what those brown puppies look like without their muzzles on.”

  She looked surprised. She’d only been in the business a couple of years, but so far no one she’d ever worked for had asked her to undress for them, not for free anyway. Seeing her hesitation, Lematte said, “I’ve just got to see what my good customers will be paying for.”

  Miami Jones passed a guarded glance at the other two women as if for guidance. When none came, she replied, “Sure, why not?” Reaching her hands up, she began to unbutton her dress, noting the flushed look on Lematte’s face as she spread it open and raised her exposed breasts for him to see.

  “Oh, yes…” Lematte whispered, reaching a hand out and caressing the firm warm skin as she stood stonelike, staring into his eyes. “I think you’re going to do well for yourself here.”

  “Are you going to be one of those kind of owners?” Miami asked boldly.

  “What kind is that?” Lematte asked.

  “The kind who’s always dipping into the cookie jar for samples,” said Miami.

  Lematte chuckled. “Believe me, sweetheart,” he said, “the kind of money you’re going to be making here, you’ll be grateful enough to give me whatever I want from you.” He cupped her breast for a second, then lowered his hand.

  “I see,” she said. “So that’s how it’s going to be.” She closed her dress and began to button it.

  Lematte smiled. “If you object, just say the word. I can put you on a mule and point you back toward Houston.” He puffed on his cigar, staring at her.

  “No, I don’t object,” said Miami. “I’m just trying to understand what’s required of me.”

  “And now you know.” Lematte grinned, giving her a gentle nudge backward. He turned to the next young woman, saying, “Your turn. Come up here, Red. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  “How did you know my name?” said the young woman in surprise, stepping forward with her shaky hands already up on her dress buttons.

  Looking at the flaming red curls spilling down onto her shoulders, Lematte smiled and said, “Just a lucky guess, sweetheart.”

  “Well, anyway,” she said, “I’m Angel Andrews—everybody calls me Red Angel. I came from over near El Paso, and this will be my first professional job! So, I’m going to be a little nervous at first, doing it for money and all.”

  “You’ll do fine. I’ll train you myself,” said Lematte. He reached out a hand and stopped her from unbuttoning her dress and exposing her breasts. “For now let’s leave something to the imagination,” he said.

  “Oh, okay.” She shrugged, dropping her hands clumsily to her sides. “Sorry.”

  “Not at all, dear,” said Lematte. Then, cupping her chin in his palm, he studied her full, red lips and said, “I can already see where your talent lies. We’re going to be real close friends, you and I.” He ran his thumb back and forth across her lips. “Yes, indeed, we are. I think I can soon bring out the best in you, Red Angel.”

  “Oh, I hope so, Mister Lematte!” she said, wide-eyed. “Thanks for all your help, and for paying my way here. You won’t be sorry, I promise you.”

  “I bet I won’t, dear,” said Lematte.

  As Angel Andrews stepped back beside Miami, Lematte watched the third young woman step forward without being asked. This one appeared a bit more experienced than the other two. “What have we here?” asked Lematte, wearing a different sort of grin as she stopped and put a hand on her hip, and tossed back her long auburn hair.

  “I’m Suzzette,” she said, “and I never thought last names were important in this business. I came here from Eagle Pass. It cost me six dollars for stage fare, food, and lodging.” She looked him up and down, then said crisply, “The flyer said you would reimburse stage fare and expenses upon arrival. I’d like that money now, if you please.”

  “Whoa now!” Lematte chuckled. “Pleased to meet you too, Miss Suzzette. How about telling us a little about yourself first. Maybe show us some wares.” Lematte stepped forward, raising a hand toward the tie-string on the bosom of her dress. But Suzzette stepped away skillfully.

  “Uh-uh, now,” she said, wagging her finger with a friendly but no-nonsense smile. “Nobody pays a toll after they’ve crossed the bridge, Mister Lematte.” She gave the other two women a glance, then added, “I came here to sell favors, not give them away.”

  “But I enjoy having my girls feel as if we’re all just one big happy family, Suzzette,” said Lematte. “Are you going to be one of those hard-headed types, too tough for anyone to get along with?”

  “I’m a whore, Lematte,” said Suzzette, “and it looks like I’m going to be one the rest of my life. I’m good at it, and I get paid good for doing it. If that’s not enough, tell me where to find that mule and point me back toward Eagle Pass.”

  “Not so fast, honey.” Lematte chuckled, as if she might turn and leave without another word on the matter. “I like a woman who knows her business and how to run it. Have you ever ran your own string of women?”

  “No,” said Suzzette, “but I always figured I could when and if the opportunity ever presented itself.”

  “Well,” said Lematte, “the opportunity just has presented itself.” He pointed at her with his cigar. “I don’t usually do this—hire somebody to take charge of something without knowing them first. But I need a lead woman, sort of a working madam, to take charge of these newer girls and show them how to squeeze every dollar they can out of these customers.” He shrugged, saying, “Of course, for the time being you’d still be servicing some men, but only the special customers. Most time you’d be keeping everything running smoothly. Can you be that person for me?”

  “For how much of the take?” Suzzette asked firmly.

  “We’ll work that out later,” said Lematte. “The main thing is, can you handle the job?”

  “I can handle the job,” said Suzzette. “The main thing is, for how much of the take?”

  Lematte laughed under his breath, liking her boldness, the way she handled herself. “Yep, we’re going to get along fine, Suzzette. We’re both going to make lots of money, I can see that already.” He took a long draw on the cigar and proudly blew a stream of blue-gray smoke.

  As Suzzette and the other two women picked up their bags from the floor, Karl Nolly opened the door to the room and said, without stepping all the way inside, “Begging your pardon, Sheriff Lematte. Eddie Grafe and Joe Poole are riding into town.”

  “Oh, really,” said Lematte. “Didn’t Jewel Higgs ride out with them?”

  “Yes, he did,” said Karl Nolly, “but he ain’t riding with them now.”

  “I see,” said Lematte. He turned to the women. “Suzzette, take Miami and Red upstairs. You’ll find your way around. Now, if you ladies will excuse me.” He turned and followed Karl Nolly out the door.

  When the three women were alone, Miami and Red Angel turned to Suzzette for direction. Miami said in a friendly manner, “Well, congratulations to you. It looks like you just cut a nice, soft spot for yourself.” She stood close beside Red Angel, awaiting word from Suzzette.

  “Thank you,” said Suzzette, hefting her carpetbag up from the floor, “but if there’s any nice soft spot to be cut in this lousy business, I haven’t found it yet.” She nodded toward the door leading to the stairwell. “Come on, let’s go upstairs, see how bad the bedbugs are here.”

  Chapter 10
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  The rest of the deputies joined Sheriff Martin Lematte and Karl Nolly in the middle of the street, and watched Eddie Grafe and Joe Poole coax their tired horses the last twenty yards along toward the Silver Seven Saloon. “What the hell has happened to them?” Lematte asked idly under his breath. “Where’s Jewel?”

  “I don’t know,” said Nolly, standing beside him, “but I’ve got a feeling the news ain’t good.”

  Poole’s horse limped along on its bruised hoof. Both riders wore sweat-streaked layers of trail dust on their faces and swayed wearily in their saddles. When the gathered gunmen made room for them to stop their horses at the hitch rail, Joe Poole’s horse faltered and almost fell as Poole stepped down to the ground. Seeing the sour look on Lematte’s face, Poole shook his lowered head, saying, “Something terrible happened, Sheriff. You ain’t going to believe it.”

  “I’m certainly going to try,” Sheriff Lematte said sarcastically. “What’s happened to Jewel Higgs?” He looked back along the dirt street as if Higgs might appear.

  Stepping down beside Joe Poole, Eddie Grafe said, “That damned gunman killed him, that’s what happened to him.” He looked around at the others, checking their expressions, trying to gauge whether or not anyone would believe his story. “Shot him from a long way off…wasn’t a thing we could do about it.”

  Lematte looked stunned. “I told you three to go check on him, just see where he was holed up! Just keep an eye on him! I didn’t want you to start any trouble!”

  “We didn’t!” Joe Poole cut in, seeing that Eddie Grafe needed help with the story. “It’s like Eddie said! We had just finished breakfast and looked down over the edge of a cliff and there was the gunman and this Mexican woman, both of them as naked as a couple of jaybirds—”

  “The sheriff didn’t ask for every detail,” Eddie Grafe said, cutting in, hoping that Poole would get the hint about details and shut his mouth.

  “Oh,” said Poole, catching himself. “Sorry, Sheriff. The fact is, we didn’t cause the trouble. If you want my take on it, this gunman figured we were deputies from Somos Santos and just lit into us, rifle blazing. Poor Jewel caught the brunt of his anger.” He looked around at Grafe, then at the stonelike faces staring at him.

  A deep silence fell upon the men as Lematte and Karl Nolly stood staring at Poole. Henry Snead had been eating an apple, but he’d stopped chewing and stood with a large lump of it in his jaw. Finally Lematte said, “Go back to the part about them being naked as jaybirds.”

  Jesus…! Eddie Grafe felt like clubbing Poole into the ground. Before Poole could speak, Grafe said, “All right, we did see a thing or two that we shouldn’t. Not to speak badly about the dead, it was Jewel doing all the looking. As soon as we saw what he was doing we stopped him, of course. Although by then it was too late. The gunman had spotted us. But the whole point is, this gunman is going to have to be reckoned with. Poor Jewel is dead…and that’s what this is really about.” He looked back and forth nodding his head nervously. “Ain’t that right, boys?”

  The men continued to stare at him in silence. Lematte gave him a dubious look, but decided if there was more to the story he wasn’t going to get it out of them right then. “All right, both of you get your horses over to the livery barn. Then get back to the saloon. We’re not through talking about this.”

  “Sure thing, Sheriff,” said Grafe, turning wearily and leading his horse away from the rail, Joe Poole doing the same. On their way across the dirt street, Grafe growled at Poole under his breath, “You just couldn’t keep your big, stupid mouth shut, could you?”

  “What did I do?” Poole asked, his horse limping along behind him.

  “We agreed not to go adding any details, remember?” Grafe whispered harshly.

  “I had to tell him something, didn’t I?” Poole replied.

  Watching the two men walk away, Lematte said to the other deputies, “All right, everybody get back to the job. Keep this town safe.” He grinned slyly. As the deputies began breaking up and walking away, he said to Nolly in a more serious tone, “This thing with Dawson has to be dealt with before it gets out of hand. I’m thinking somebody has to go talk to Dawson, make peace with him if we can.”

  “It sounds like he’s awfully riled up,” said Nolly. “I don’t know if it’ll work, trying to make peace with him.”

  “I think it might, if I give him Henry Snead,” said Lematte.

  “Give him Snead?” Nolly sounded surprised.

  “Why not?” said Lematte. “Snead is the one who brought all this on.”

  “But you’re the one who told Snead to do it,” Nolly said in disbelief.

  “Dawson doesn’t know that,” said Lematte, as if not seeing his responsibility in the matter. “If it settles things, I think we ought to do it. I’ve got some big plans in the works. I can’t let stuff like this get in the way.”

  “Maybe we should give it a few days before we do anything else,” Nolly suggested. “Let things cool down a little, see what move Dawson makes next.”

  “Yes, we’ll give it a few days,” said Lematte, “but only a few days.” He puffed on his thick cigar and looked away toward the distant hill line. “I don’t want nothing messing up what we’ve got going here.”

  A block away, at the second-floor window of the hotel, Councilman Roy Tinsdale turned loose of the curtain he’d held to one side and turned back to the men gathered around an oaken fold-up poker table that had been set up for a meeting in the middle of the room. “They’re still talking in the middle of the street,” said Councilman Tinsdale, “but I don’t think Lematte has any idea we’re meeting here.”

  “Very well,” said Councilman Deavers, sitting down across from Gains Bouchard. “Let me get straight to the point.” He looked solemnly around at the faces of the men. “Gentlemen, I’m sure you’ve all heard about what Sheriff Lematte did to our head councilman. Poor Councilman Freedman is still convalescing at his sister Pauline’s over in Uvalde. It could be weeks before he’s back on his feet after such a terrible whipping.”

  Heads nodded in sympathy.

  Looking around again, Deavers continued. “I’m afraid we’ve got a bad situation on our hands that is going to have to be dealt with in the strongest of manner. On behalf of the town, I’m asking for the support of the Double D Ranch to help us get rid of this monster Lematte before more innocent people suffer.”

  Across the table Gains Bouchard poured himself a tall glass of rye whiskey, weighing his words before speaking. Beside Bouchard sat his foreman, Sandy Edelman. Behind Bouchard and Edelman stood three Double D cowhands, Stanley Grubs, Jimmie Turner, and Mike Cassidy. Finally Bouchard lifted his bushy eyebrows, glancing first at Councilman Tinsdale, then at Councilman Deavers. “Councilmen,” he said, “I had a notion this was what it would come to with a man like Lematte becoming sheriff of this town. But the fact is, you townfolk voted him into office. I believe the first step you ought to make to get rid of him is to vote him out.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, Mister Bouchard,” said Deavers. “But the problem is, by next election time, Lematte will have this town dragged down so far with his gambling and his whores, the only folks left here will be his kind of cutthroat trash. Decent folk will be so outnumbered they won’t have a chance at voting him out. By then he will have won. Our only chance is to remove him right now, by any means necessary, before he gets a deeper foothold. Believe me, if there was any other way we would come up with it. But there isn’t. That’s why we asked you here today, Mister Bouchard. We need your help badly.”

  “I see,” said Bouchard, contemplatively. He sipped his whiskey. “This is nothing new for Martin Lematte, you know, trying to take over a town and turn it into his own enterprise. He almost got away with the same thing in Hide City.”

  “Yes,” said Deavers, “we heard that same thing from Councilman Freedman…although he didn’t know much of the particulars of the story.”

  “Neither do I,” said Bouchard, “except that he had thin
gs going pretty good for himself until he fell for one of his own whores and she drove him out of his mind.” Bouchard stopped and sipped his whiskey. “But I reckon that’s all water under the bridge. The only thing is, once a man gets that close to what he’s worked for and loses it, he’ll hang on harder the next time around.”

  “Indeed he will,” said Deavers.

  Bouchard looked back and forth at the faces of the two councilmen, then said, “Lematte will kill any man who tries to get in his way this time, you can count on it.” He gave them a flat, wise grin. “Of course, you’ve already thought of that. I reckon that’s why you don’t want to risk calling for a special election. After what Lematte did to Freedman for just approaching him, imagine what he’d do to you two for trying to unseat him.”

  “I’ll admit that has crossed our minds,” said Tinsdale. “But you wouldn’t have that to worry about. You’ve got as many men working for you as he has.”

  “I have good, hard-working drovers,” said Bouchard. “Lematte has gunmen, thieves, and murderers. My men will fight if I ask them to…they’ll die for the Double D if I ask them to. But I won’t ask them to. I won’t put them against men like Lematte’s. I have no right to ask that of them. If you want this man out of office, you best get busy doing it legally.”

  “And meanwhile,” said Tinsdale, “when he hears of it and begins tearing this town apart, killing us! What then, Bouchard?”

  Gains Bouchard stood up and said, “Councilmen, you brought me here to ask me to break the law…but I won’t do it. I reckon I’m not as crude and uncivilized as you thought I am.” He looked at Tinsdale and said, “If Lematte got out of hand, went on a killing rampage the way you seem to think he will, it goes without saying that I’d try to stop him. It would be my civic duty. But that’s all I can say on the matter for now. If all you want is somebody to do some killing for you, go hire yourselves a gunman.” He gestured toward the door. “Right now, I plan on taking these men to the saloon and buying them whiskey. I don’t think that would be out of line, do you, Councilmen?”