by Bill Sheehy
Tony patted her hands. ‘You are right, affairs of the heart can be hard. But now you and Mr Allen have a good life, no?’
‘Oh, sí. But there is more. He and I went on the stagecoach to Dodge City. To stand before a priest and become man and wife. This is what I wanted to tell you.’
Tony’s smile got even bigger.
‘You see,’ said the woman, ‘Mr Allen is worried about you. Your future. He and I will be together as we have long wanted, and you will become his heir.’
‘What? Is that necessary?’
‘Antonio, do you not see? You have much to offer this woman you have feelings for. That is why I say, you must open up and talk. To learn if you can be together.’
Later riding into town he was thinking about how affairs of the heart can change.
Going across the bridge, he pulled up. But, he thought, what if the thing that is bothering her is too big? It had to have something to do with that lawyer, Drazen. They didn’t appear to even know one another but whenever she saw him she became very still and quiet. Maybe there is something there he should know about. Maybe this heart affair wasn’t so simple after all.
Chapter 55
Martin Baynes wasn’t happy and hadn’t been for days. His sister warned him to stay out of town, stay at the ranch. He knew it was because of that damn Jack Drazen.
‘We have to be careful,’ she’d explained, speaking clearly and in a way that he couldn’t argue with. ‘Right now, until the train robbers are caught and the federal money is recovered, or until the Kansas Federal Bank reissues us the loan, Drazen is our only hope. We have to be certain not to make him our enemy.’
‘I know . . . I know. You’ve told me this over and over. But, dammit, I don’t like it, you’re being so nice to him. Letting him take you to dinner. And staying in town so many nights. We have to stay on his good side, but dammit. . . .’
‘You see, Martin? That’s what I’m afraid of. It wouldn’t do any good, your getting all worked up and causing trouble. So I go to dinner with him a few times. So I stay at the hotel a few nights. There is a lot of work that has to be done at the bank, even if there is little cash money in the safe. Not having to ride back and forth to the ranch every day saves me a lot of time. Martin, it’s only for a little while. Until things change. And they will. Trust me. They will.’
Way back when the idea came to him, Martin had thought he’d figured out a simple plan. Simple but far beyond his capabilities. He knew the Federal Bank was making a bank to bank loan. A lot of money. Enough to get both the ranch and the bank solvent. That’s when the idea came to him. If something happened and the money went missing, well, if it was worked right, he could end up with a large portion of that loan money. The Federal Bank would just naturally reissue the loan, wouldn’t they? He needed someone with better contacts than those he had. And he knew just who to talk to about it. The man he’d gone to for help was perfect. A smart businessman, too smart to be seen as being involved but he knew those who could do the dirty work.
Back when he arrived in Kansas City, all ready to attend that agricultural college, his intentions were just that; get an education and make the Circle B a bigger and better operation. But first he’d sample the city. It was during his second or third evening at the green felt-covered table in the Drover’s Gambling Parlor and Men’s Club that he met Jackson Drazen. During the first couple evenings he’d gone back to his rented apartment with more money than he’d started out with. Seven-card stud poker, he thought, was his game.
Then one night, looking at his cards, and figuring his chances to filling the pair he held, he glanced up to find the well-dressed man across the table studying him. The pot sitting in the center of the table with this hand was one of the biggest yet. Martin figured there was a couple thousand dollars there. His pair of jacks wasn’t bad. Not really strong but he’d been pulling pretty good cards on the draw.
The bet got to the successful-looking man smoking a thin cigar, his suit, black and perfectly fitting his big frame. He smiled coldly and pushed in some chips.
‘My cards are worth a hundred,’ the big man said quietly. One after another the players in turn either made their bet or folded. Even with a last card yet to come Martin decided his pair wasn’t strong enough.
‘Pass,’ he said, tossing his cards to the dealer face down.
The cigar-smoker won the pot.
After that hand, Martin pushed away from the table and went to the bar for a whiskey.
‘That last hand was almost perfect for you, wasn’t it?’ The big man was standing next to him. ‘Let me buy you a drink. I’m Jackson Drazen,’ he said, holding out his hand.
That was the beginning. Over the next few weeks, Drazen and Martin got together a number of times, not always at the poker table, but usually at the bar for a drink. Martin didn’t mind, the big man nearly always paid. All of a sudden Martin’s run of good cards had turned sour.
One evening he was standing next to another of the students from the college, when Drazen came through the door.
‘Oh, Christ, look who’s here,’ said the student quietly.
‘Hmm? Oh, Drazen,’ said Martin. ‘He’s a local attorney. Got a pretty good record in the courts.’
‘Yeah, and a pretty good record for fleecing people, too. Watch out for him and his kind.’
‘Ah, I’ve had a drink or two with him. And played a few hands with him at the table, too. He isn’t so bad.’
‘Did you ever win a big pot with him at the table?’
Martin remembered his pair of jacks. ‘Well, no.’
Thinking about it, Martin decided it didn’t matter. Nothing he could do anyway. He just wouldn’t play that much poker with the lawyer at the table. Not until a couple years after returning to the ranch and finding himself in need of help did he think of those poker games and what that student had said.
Over the years he’d traveled to Dodge City, and a few times on to Kansas City, and each time he looked up his friend, Jackson Drazen.
Things at the Circle B hadn’t been going as well as he’d planned for. Enlarging the herd was taking too long, for one thing. The good deal he got on the pair of breeding bulls ended up not being so good either. It was when his sister warned him the ranch account was pretty much emptied and the amount of cash on hand at the bank wasn’t enough to carry things much longer that he really started feeling panic. He couldn’t believe it when she told him she was afraid the bank would have to close.
‘Martin, face it, there just isn’t anyway around it. The loans we’ve made to the ranch have to be repaid. Aren’t you able to put together herd of marketable stock?’
‘God no. Not yet. I’d counted on it but somehow, well, there just isn’t that many head. Mostly what I’ve got out there are yearlings, too small.’
‘There is only one thing I can do,’ said Marcy, ‘that is to apply to the federal bank in Kansas City for a major loan, enough to tide us over.’
Martin’s frown disappeared. ‘How big a loan would they make?’
‘I don’t know. For some time, though, they’ve been wanting to get a piece of our bank. It’d be enough to carry us for a year, I’d say. Federal banks can print their own money, you know. There’s talk of the govenment opening up land out in the territory for homesteading. Banks are part of that plan.’
Almost instantly his own plan came to Martin. Thinking, he decided not to say anything to his sister, except to agree and have her contact the Kansas City bank. But to carry out his plan he’d need help. Holding up a train or even a stage wasn’t something he could do. That’s when he thought of Drazen. The lawyer would know who could handle such a thing.
But now, things weren’t working out as he’d planned. That damn Drazen was up to no good and letting Marcy think she was saving the day by being nice to the smooth talker was not going to work. Whatever the big city lawyer was up to it couldn’t be good for either of the twins. Martin had put up with it as long as he could.
Chapt
er 56
Things came to a head for Stewart and Tony Rodriquez after supper one evening. Stewart had been doing his job, keeping a close watch on Drazen, although he still could see no reason to. All the man was doing was what he himself wanted to do; spend time with the woman at the bank. But where that damn lawyer had a clear shot at the bank manager, Mrs Havilah’s time was taken up by that rancher. Didn’t he have a ranch to oversee, for gawd’s sake?
Most evenings when Drazen was escorting Miss Baynes to supper at the hotel restaurant, the deputy would watch from across the street. Once or twice he’d been able to sit in the restaurant, lingering over cups of coffee, hoping to overhear something. He couldn’t do that too often though. All he could do was wait and watch.
It was while he was doing his job that he was missing out. Often, after following Drazen and the bank manager to the hotel stairs, where she went into her room at the bottom and he hiked up to his corner room, Stewart had hurried over to the boarding house hoping to catch sight of Elizabeth. All too often it was catching sight of the woman walking out with the rancher that spoiled his night.
But this night the deputy decided not to bother with the banker woman and Drazen. By gum, he’d take his own supper at Miz Cornwall’s table.
His decision was the right one. Not only did the woman’s roast beef, asparagus spears and fried potatoes please all the guests, she somehow produced two pies, one apple and the other peach.
‘I’m afraid,’ said Mrs.Cornwall shyly, ‘the peaches were canned. Getting anything fresh is so hard.’
Nobody complained and very soon all sign of there having been any pies was hard to find. To make the meal even better a fresh pot of coffee was offered, as Mrs Cornwall said, ‘to help settle the meal.’
When Stewart saw Elizabeth decline and get up from the table he hurried to follow her out of the room.
‘Would you like to join me in a brief walk?’ he asked. ‘There’s most of a full moon and, well, it’d do better to settle such a fine meal than coffee, don’t ya think?’
Elizabeth had been aware of the man’s attention, but had about given up on the idea she might learn something from the deputy.
Maybe she was being too quick, she thought. Best to give the lawman one more chance. Smiling she nodded. ‘That would be nice. Let me get my shawl.’
Careful to direct their walk on the other side of the main street from the saloon, they strolled to the bridge and stopped. Leaning against the peeled pole railing, the water below sparkled in the moonlight.
‘I’ve never had much chance to walk out with a woman before,’ said Stewart. Once he had her to himself he hadn’t known what to say or even how to begin a conversation. Elizabeth was facing the same dilemma. Her problem was how to get him talking about the outlaw, Runkle.
‘Oh,’ she said, ‘it’s not so difficult to talk with a woman. A good way to get to know someone would be to tell her about your work. Remember when we talked before, you were going to tell me about some of the bad men you’ve arrested? I’m curious. It isn’t often a woman gets to hear about such things.’
Stewart’s smile beamed. She was making it easy for him. ‘Wal, I think I might’ve said most of the criminals I’ve hunted down weren’t too smart.’
‘Who are some of the men you’ve caught? I mean their names. I’ve read some stories in the newspapers about, well, about train robberies. That’s what I’m interested in hearing about.’
‘Ah, well, yeah. I guess there was that one time not long back. The train from Kansas City out to Dodge City was held up. I was further out in the badlands at the time and only heard about it when I was sent out to arrest a fella, Carly Morse. I think I mentioned him before. I wasn’t told much about the robbery itself, only that someone reported seeing the fella and on that I was sent out ahunting him. So I took him and when I found a brand new fifty dollar bill, I got him to talking. He said the money came from a deal he’d had with a man, Morgan Runkle. It was money owed him, he said.’
Runkle. That was what Elizabeth wanted to hear. ‘What was this Runkle doing?’
‘Oh, when I brought Morse in, Marshal Adkins said the cash money was likely part of a train robbery. Rumor around town had it that the gang that ran with Runkle had probably been behind the holdup.’
‘Did this man, Morse, say much about Runkle?’
‘Naw. I couldn’t get him to talk much about the man. I think he was probably a little scared to do that.’
‘That’s too bad. Didn’t you say this man, Morse, was in jail?’
Stewart shook his head. ‘No. Some fool of a judge let him go. Sometimes it just doesn’t make sense. I bring ’em in and the judge lets them go running off.’ He was getting tired of talking about outlaws. ‘Look at the moonlight on the water down there. Wonder what the fish think about that.’
Elizabeth shivered and hugged her shawl tighter around her shoulders. ‘I’m feeling a little chill,’ she said. ‘It’s probably time to head back. I have a full day at the bank tomorrow.’
Stewart didn’t know what to do. Here he had her to himself and she wanted to go in. Disappointed, he could only agree and walked her back to the boarding house, walking as slow as he could, trying to think of something to say. Something to hold her attention. His mind was a blank.
Chapter 57
Neither of them noticed the man sitting out of sight in the darkness in one of the chairs on the hotel porch. Tony Rodriquez had been too late for supper at the boarding house, getting into town just in time to watch the deputy marshal and Elizabeth leave on their walk. Rankled, he followed, watching. When the couple stopped at the bridge he took a chair and waited.
Back at the boarding house, Elizabeth quickly thanked Stewart for the walk and hurried inside. The deputy, turning away, came face to face with the rancher.
Tony reacted with a growl.
Looking pointedly at Stewart’s shoulder-length black hair, he snarled, ‘You part Indian?’
Stewart frowned. ‘You Mexican?’
The two stood staring at each other, eyeball to eyeball. Before either could think of anything more to say, or do, a loud burst of laughter from the saloon jarred the night. Disgustedly Stewart turned away and went into the hotel. Getting into a battle with the rancher wouldn’t do him any good. After all, as he kept telling himself, he wasn’t here to chase the widow woman.
Tony looked back at the boarding house and seeing most windows dark went looking for his horse. Coming into town hadn’t been such a good idea after all. When he’d saddled up for the ride in he’d been all excited. Things had changed. When his mother explained what she and Mr Allen had done it was like the sun coming out on a stormy day. He now had a future. Something to talk to the woman about. All the way into town his chest felt overfull to bursting.
Until he saw the lawman and Elizabeth walking out in the moonlight.
Chapter 58
Elizabeth Havilah couldn’t sleep. For the longest time she lay still, her eyes closed, breathing in a slow, even rhythm, trying to entice sleep. But while her body was relaxed and calm her mind was raging. Nothing had gone as she’d wanted. Getting hired as a clerk in the bank was supposed to make it all easier. It didn’t. Being that close to Marcy Baynes meant being close to Drazen. It was the best she could do and she was feeling good about it. Until Tony came in. Thinking back, she remembered how he’d looked, standing straight and tall, and smiling.
He’d been nice enough, and when he asked her to walk out with him she was all ready to tell him thank you, but no. Since Roy was killed she’d had a number of opportunities to tell men no. Seems they could tell she was alone. Thinking of her husband usually made her eyes get all teary, but recently she noticed her tears weren’t so quick coming. Maybe she was getting used to the idea of being a widow woman.
Arriving in this strange little town with its dirt streets and rough-looking men, she really hadn’t known what to do. Her plan was to get revenge but beyond that she didn’t have a plan. Had she really expected Dra
zen to simply meet up with the man, Morgan Runkle? She hadn’t thought about it, just trusted something would happen. But nothing did and she couldn’t simply wait around much longer. Not when she couldn’t see what she could possibly do.
Tossing, she turned over, trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. Thinking about it all she decided there was only one thing to do. She would have to bring things to a head. She’d have to force the lawyer to tell her where she could find the man she wanted to shoot.
Things always seemed easier once she made a decision. Elizabeth stood it as long as she could before finally getting up. She quickly changed out of her night dress, putting on a heavy black wool skirt, long enough to rub the tops of her laced-up leather shoes, and the darkest colored blouse she owned. Pulling on her black leather coat, she didn’t think she’d be seen as long as she stayed away from any bright lights. Checking to make sure her pistol was fully loaded, she quietly opened the door of her room. Like a swift moving dark ghost, she made her way down the stairs. Opening the outer door quietly she left the boarding house. Keeping to back streets and alleys she headed to the back door of the hotel.
It was unlocked. Slowly she opened the door and being careful not to make a sound, crept up the stairs to the second floor. It was no secret the man she sought had a room in the front. Keeping close to the wall so none of the floorboards would squeak, she passed by the other closed doors, hearing snores behind most. Coming to the last door she stopped, holding her breath and listened. No sound came from inside.
Holding her pistol ready in one hand she slowly turned the door knob, stopping when she heard the click of the latch. She hadn’t thought of what she’d do if it was locked or the man inside had put a chair under the knob. Pushing gently the door swung silently open.
