Blood on the Hills

by Matt Chisholm

  “Can’t blame ‘em for doin’ that,” said Jody gallantly. “Reckon I’m doin’ that myself.”

  She blushed a little. Her eyes dropped before his hot gaze. Her lashes were dark and long against the softness of her cheeks.

  “I don’t mind you,” she said.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Louise,” she said. “Pa calls me Lou.”

  “That your pa who was here?”

  “Sure. Mr. Henry Shafter. He’s in the saloon now. He don’t allow me in the saloon. He says it is not a place for a young lady. He says a girl can’t be too careful.”

  “He’s dead right.”

  “He said if you was to come in, it’d be a real honor for him to offer a drink to the man who brought that killer Shawn in,” Lou said.

  “He said if you was to come in, it’d be a real honor for him to Jody. The way things were, he would have been suspicious of a saint. It wasn’t only a young lady who couldn’t be too careful.

  “If you’d step into the bar while I prepare a tray for you,” she suggested.

  “I’d ruther stay talkin’ with you, miss.”

  She giggled.

  “I have to go fetch the food,” she said. “You don’t have to stand talking with me here, Mr. Storm. Why, a girl don’t spend all her time working.”

  “You live above here?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Maybe when the office has settled down for the night, we could meet for a little conversation.”

  Her eyes were bright with pleasure.

  “That would be wonderful,” she said. “There’s the nicest walk through the trees down to the creek. But, as you will realize, I wouldn’t allow a gentleman who wasn’t a real gentleman to take me through them trees.”

  “I sure realize that, Miss Lou,” he said.

  “My room’s at the rear of the house,” she said. “You throw something up at the window. I’ll be down.”

  Her hand was lying on the counter. He reached over and touched it. He hadn’t touched a girl like this in a long time. The sensation made him want to reach over the wood for her.

  “I’ll be there,” he said. “Now I reckon I’ll take that drink.”

  “Go ahead,” she said, smiling, and patted his hand.

  He walked into the saloon.

  The place was buzzing. Men saw him enter and turned to look at him. There were several men at the bar and among them, drinking with his customers, was Mr. Henry Shafter who turned with a broad smile of welcome. The man behind the bar was thickset. His face was scarred and his nose had been broken.

  “Welcome,” cried Mr. Shafter. “Pat, a drink for Mr. Storm.”

  “That’s real nice of you, Mr. Shafter.”

  “Nothing’s too good for the man who performed the civic duty you did, Mr. Storm.”

  The men standing around all agreed with that. Jody saw there were townsmen and cattlemen among them. The rancher who had tried to enter the office past Jody earlier in the day was there. He seemed to bear Jody no ill-will. He was all smiles now, raising his glass to the new deputy. A glass was thrust into Jody’s hand. Grinning like a flattered fool, he raised his glass to them. He was drinking the same firewater Charlie had given him in the office. It burned his throat, choked him and then made him feel good. There was a little talk this way and that which he didn’t pay much attention to.

  Henry Shafter’s hand was on his arm. It felt soft like a fish’s fin. He didn’t care much for it.

  “I tell you what, Mr. Storm,” said Shafter. “You don’t want to drink this stuff. I keep a bottle of the very best in my office for my personal friends. How’s that sound to you?”

  “That sounds fine, just fine, Mr. Shafter, sir,” said Jody.

  The soft hand guided him along the bar and past the others. At first, Jody thought they were going back into the restaurant, but there was another doorway to the left of the dining-room door and through this they went. Down a dark passage, Shafter leading the way. As he opened a door to their left, a bright light hit the wall of the corridor.

  The office was empty, which somehow surprised Jody. It was well set up with a good carpet on the floor. Roll-top desk with papers scattered on it, an office cupboard and a kind of bureau of drawers and doors. Shafter bent his thick body and opened a door, produced a bottle and glasses. He was smiling and sweating. The glasses clinked onto the table in the center of the room. Shafter poured. He was still smiling. The smile became fixed, then it began to slip a little. The small eyes watched Jody. A glass was pushed across the shining surface of the table. They each raised one.

  “Your health, Mr. Storm.”

  Jody drank. This time, it was the real McCoy. Smooth fire flowed into him. He felt even better.

  “Sit down, make yourself at home.”

  Shafter lowered his bulk into the revolving desk-chair. Jody found a straight-backed chair at the table.

  “I’ll come straight to the point, Mr. Storm,” Shafter said. “My daughter has taken to you. Yes, sir, little Louise Mary Ann sure makes up her mind. Real mind of her own, sir. Something more’n a pretty face, if I may say so. To be absolutely frank and honest, Mr. Storm, I took to you the minute I set eyes on you.”

  Christ, Jody thought, I must look as green as all get out. The man was talking to him as if he were a two-year-old. This Shafter was a cunning fool.

  Like a fool himself, he said: “That’s real nice of you, Mr. Shafter. You’re real nice folks, I must say.”

  “Glad to hear you say that.” He gestured toward Jody’s holstered gun. “I hear tell you’re real handy with a gun, Mr. Storm.”

  “Yeah, I reckon I was schooled pretty good with a gun, Mr. Shafter. Though I says it as shouldn’t.”

  “Not at all. Why be modest? A man should make the most of his talents. Mine, I guess, are pretty every-day, as you might say. I ain’t so good on a horse, I ain’t brave like you and I’m not too good with a gun of any kind. But each man to his own. I’m good at making money.”

  Jody grinned in the most foolish and sincere way he knew how.

  “That’s a talent I’d sure like to have, Mr. Shafter.”

  “It’s a talent every man has with something to sell.”

  “But I don’t have nothin’ to sell, Mr. Shafter.”

  “You don’t?” Shafter’s black eyebrows went up into his cowlick. “I’m sure that ain’t true. Why, a man like the sheriff wouldn’t never have hired you if that was so.”

  “He hired my gun.”

  “Then you do have something to sell.”

  “The price of a gun don’t come too high. I mean there’s a whole heap of fellers that knows how to use a gun.”

  “Ah, that’s true enough,” Shafter cried. He filled their glasses again, returned to his chair that complained under his weight. “But then there are not many young men in your situation. Right?”

  “True enough.” Jody tried to look half-bright. “Say, I see the drift of your thinkin’.”

  “I knew you’d catch on quick. Now, a man has to look after himself, Jode. You don’t mind if I call you Jode, huh? Fine, fine. Now if a feller don’t look out for himself, nobody else is going to. Right? Right. I’m looking out for myself right now and I’m making you an offer so you can show a profit on your talent. How does that sound to you?”

  “Interestin’, Mr. Shafter. Mighty interestin’.”

  “I knew you was intelligent and far-sighted the minute I set eyes on you.” The smile on the fat face was now genuine. And this time it didn’t slip. He leaned forward and his voice was low and confidential. Jody felt something rising inside him. He thought it was most likely rage. He hoped he could keep it under control.

  “Go ahead, Mr. Shafter,” he said. “Come right out with it. No hard feelin’s if’n I don’t care for the sound of it.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” cried Shafter. “Now, it’s this way. I’ll put it as simply and quickly as I can or they’ll be missing you back at the sheriff’s off
ice. I have a kind of warning for you. As I said, I like you. I don’t want to see you come to any harm. You’ve gotten yourself mixed up in local politics. Nothing ain’t what it seems around here.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “You know why Shawn’s in jail yonder?”

  “He killed a kid.”

  “Not at all, not at all. He didn’t fire that shot. I was an eyewitness. He didn’t even take part in that raid.”

  “Mr. Shafter,” Jody said. “I took Shawn while he had the money on him.”

  “Of course you did,” Shafter told him. “And that was what was meant to happen. Froud made a sucker of you. The sheriff had to have Shawn out of the way.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s a long story. Just think about this—Shawn must be freed from that jail.”

  Jody was a little shaken. He’d thought Shafter was one of the hanging party.

  He made like a man deep in thought. Then he focused on Shafter and said coldly like a man used to making such deals: “How much?”

  “One hundred American dollars.”

  He showed incredulity.

  “I hope you said that for a laugh, Mr. Shafter,” he said. “I purely do.”

  Shafter sighed.

  “Two hundred,” he said. “I can see you’re a hard man to bargain with, Jode.”

  “You know how much I get for killing a man?” Jody said. “One thousand dollars.”

  Shafter went pale.

  “Good God,” he said, “I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “What kind of money do you have, Mr. Shafter?”

  “If you push me, I could go up to say three hundred.”

  “I’m pushin’ you, so we’ll say three hundred,” Jody said coolly. He would have preferred to knock Shafter’s yellow teeth down his throat. But he knew he was growing up and his mind was working.

  “That’s a deal,” Shafter said, rising to his feet and offering his hand. Yes, it was like shaking hands with a wet fish.

  “This’ll take some thinkin’ out,” Jody said. “I’ll have a word with you tomorrow.”

  “Make it early.”

  “I’ll be across for breakfast.”

  “Fine. Louise Mary Ann is waiting for you. Nice doing business with you, Jode.”

  Jody grinned disarmingly and walked out of the room. It would be nice to feel his fist meeting Shafter’s teeth. One day, maybe

  Lou was behind the counter, smiling, a tray in front of her covered with a cloth. The place was still empty.

  “Did Pa make you a proposition?” she asked.

  “I reckon.”

  “Don’t do anything till we have enjoyed that little conversation down by the creek, Mr. Storm.” Her large china-blue eyes were pleading. What in Hell was this? Did the daughter oppose the father? Was the girl trying to protect him, Jody?

  “I’ll be seein’ you, Miss Lou,” he said. “I reckon a feller never et a quicker supper’n I’m a-goin’ to eat.”

  She smiled. He picked up the tray and walked out.

  There was a lot to think about as he walked back to the jail. He wondered if he should let Charlie in on what had happened, but he decided against it. He had to make his own way; he didn’t want any advice from his elders.

  Charlie opened to his shout, shotgun in hand. Jody laid the tray on the table and looked across at Consuelo. Her face looked strained in the lamplight. She sure cared for Froud a lot. It was a puzzle to Jody what a woman like her could see in a ornery goat like Froud. She smiled at him and he grinned back. Froud was still sleeping. Jody took the cloth from the tray and carried a plate in to Shawn. He shoved the plate under the grill. Shawn heaved himself off the bed and came over.

  “Cooked by Miss Lou Shafter’s own fair hand,” Jody said.

  Shawn picked up the food and looked at it with a grin.

  “Sure it ain’t poisoned?” he said.

  “Could it be?”

  “Comin’ from Lou Mary Ann.” He carried it away and sat down on the bed.

  That was a puzzler.

  “Shafter talked to me about you gettin’ out,” Jody said.

  Shawn jerked his head up. His face was eager.

  “You listen good?” he demanded.

  “Sure I listened. I always listen when there’s a profit in it.”

  “Good boy. When’s it goin’ to be?”

  “I have to think about it.”

  Shawn put the plate down on the bed and came back to the grill.

  “What’s there to think about?” he asked. “There’s a sheriff dyin’ out there an’ a stove-in deputy. All you have to do is open this door and let me out. We shove a couple of guns in their faces an’ it’s all over.”

  “It ain’t as easy as all that,” Jody told him. “There’s things you don’t know about.”

  “Such as?”

  “If I told you, you’d know as much as me.” Jody walked back into the office, hearing Shawn’s curse behind him.

  Jody ate his meal in silence, washed it down with hot black coffee, waited for the others to be through eating and then rose. He collected the plates and cups and piled them on the tray, picked it up and headed for the door.

  “Where do you reckon you’re goin’?” Charlie demanded.

  “Takin’ the dishes back.”

  “Do that in the mornin’. The two of us should be here after dark.”

  “Maybe there’s somebody I have to talk with.”

  Charlie heaved himself to his feet and dragged himself to Jody.

  “What man?” The strain was showing on Charlie.

  Jody decided he should know something of what was going on. Just in case something happened to Jody. That was fair.

  “Shafter.”

  Charlie whistled softly.

  “What he want?”

  “Shawn outa here.”

  “Boy, you stay right here. You ain’t talkin’ to Shafter.”

  “Charlie,” Jody said. “I’ll talk to who I like.”

  “By Christ,” Charlie said, “I knowed the minute I set eyes on you Froud was a fool to trust you.”

  “Sure,” said Jody, “I’m a no-good shiftless saddle-bum that’ll sell out to the highest bidder. You know my kind, Charlie.”

  “You ain’t a-goin’ outa here, boy.”

  “Your shotgun’s on the other side of the room. You can’t stop me.”

  They stared at each other, eye-ball to eye-ball. Charlie was thinking of putting his hands on Jody to stop him, but he knew he couldn’t finish what he started.

  “You try anythin’ snaky,” Charlie said through his teeth, “an’ I’ll kill you. You know that, boy?”

  “Sure I know it,” Jody said. “An’ you can do it.” He looked past Charlie and saw Consuelo’s anxious face. “But you’ll have to trust me, won’t you? Just you prepare a cell for a new customer, Charlie.”

  That took the man by surprise.

  “What you aim to do?” he asked.

  “I ain’t too clear about that right now.”

  He went out onto the street.

  Lou wasn’t behind the counter. Her father was there, sweating and smoking a large cigar. Jody laid the tray on the counter.

  “That was sure a swell meal, Mr. Shafter,” he said.

  “You thought some about what I said to you?” Shafter queried.

  “Sure. I mentioned it to Shawn. We’ll work something out by morning.”

  “It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, Jode.” Shafter was eager. “Just give Shawn a gun and open the door. He’ll do the rest.”

  “It ain’t quite as simple as all that, Mr. Shafter. But don’t fret. We’ll think of somethin’.”

  “Great,” said Shafter. “I knew I could rely on you, Jode.”

  “When I have my plan fixed,” Jody said. “I’ll take a hundred dollars on account.”

  That took Shafter back. He went to say something, but Jody walked away. He went to the end of the block, turned down an alleyway and worked his way through
a back-lot to the rear of Shafter’s place. There was one lighted window. Jody picked up a small pebble, climbed a low picket fence and crossed the yard. The little stone rattled lightly against the glass, the curtain was pulled back and Lou’s silhouette was revealed for a second. She waved and was gone.

  Five minutes later, she was beside him in the darkness.

  “I’m so happy you could come, Mr. Storm,” she said. “I hope you don’t think me fast coming out like this.”

  “Perish the thought, Miss Lou,” said Jody, gallant Texas gentleman that he was. “I’m flattered and honored, Ma’am.”

  She took his arm and they strolled out under the trees. He made some light small-talk as they went, the kind of stuff a young man like him gave to a girl like Louise Mary Ann. She liked it and chattered away in return. By the time they reached the creek, they were going at it like a house on fire.

  Jody had eyes everywhere. He reckoned he was walking into a trap and there had to be a man around here someplace. The moon was bright and the shadows were deep. The willows grew close down to the water’s edge. A dog barked in the distance. A man could be standing within a dozen yards of them without Jody being able to see him. Jody didn’t like it much.

  Lou said: “Maybe it was foolish of me to come, Mr. Storm. It must be a terrible temptation for a big strong fellow like you being alone with a girl in the moonlight.”

  “Sure is, Miss Lou,” said Jody, his eyes on a dark shadow at the top of the bank above them. “But don’t you fret none. I’m doin’ my best to behave like a real gentleman.”

  “That’s nice,” she said. “It sure does reassure a girl, Mr. Storm.”

  Something rustled in the undergrowth under the trees. Jody moved back the skirt of his coat, so the butt of his gun was free.

  She turned to face him and looked up at him. Her face was a pale orb in the moonlight, her eyes dark now. She smiled gently, an example of pure American womanhood.

  “I mean you wouldn’t kiss a girl or anything like that,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t bet on that, Miss Lou,” he told her.

  She came a little closer and her hands were on his chest.

  “Kissing’s dangerous,” she said. “It can lead to other things.”