Brides of the West-Part One

by Hestand, Rita

  "Charity Williams is available." Lou added.

  "Charity Williams, good grief Jo. I doubt her mother would let her out of the yard, much less go to a barn dance." Gil chuckled. "You court her and you'll be wasting your time. And you'd have to take her mother with you. That poor girl can't cross the street without her mother's permission and she's fully grown too."

  "Her Ma does keep a tight reign. But she's such a nice girl." Jo said giving Gil another glance. "When you get to know her."

  "I got no right to talk down about any girl. Like I said, I'm too busy these days to notice many." Gil reflected.

  "Charity is a real sweet little thing."

  "She can't be anything but sweet, her Ma won't let her. I think I'll go by myself, thank you. That way I can dance with who I want to."

  "Suit yourself, but you really ought to be thinking about a wife, Gil. You aren't a kid anymore." Jo walked away from the table. "I mean, you do want a family someday to fill that big beautiful house you are building, don't you?"

  "You are standing there preaching marriage to me? Why, the two of you have been sparking for years, flirting daily for I don't know how long and you want to tell me I should marry?"

  "There's something to be said about settling down, Gil." Lou picked up his fork and began eating.

  "Oh yeah, then why don't you marry Jo? You come here to eat every day. Why don't you just hook up with her?" he turned things around. "You take her to the dances, you two get along better than most married people. Why not?"

  "Jo, will you marry me?" Lou asked looking straight at Gil when he did it.

  "Sure honey, as soon as you hang up them guns. I'll get the preacher myself." Jo chuckled.

  "See…that's why." Lou said and took another bite of his meat loaf.

  Gil thought on that a bit. "Never thought about it, but I guess our job isn't very appealing to women."

  "I think it has to do with the fact that most lawmen don't live to a ripe old age." Lou added.

  "In this town, we have nothing to worry about." Gil laughed aloud.

  Chapter Two

  Just then, it was as if someone lit a stick of dynamite. Lou and Gil both jumped nearly out of their pants. The glass in the café rattled so bad, Jo thought it was going to shatter. Every face turned to look out the window.

  "What the devil was that?" Lou frowned glancing outside.

  Gil put his hat on and his hand at his gun. "Let's go find out. Keep lunch hot for us, will you?"

  "Sure…my goodness….you two be careful." Jo said watching them walk out the door and search for the cause of the ruckus.

  It didn't take long to figure out what happened. Five men on horseback sped down the street, guns in the air and firing randomly. Gil cased the area quickly. It was clear that the bank had been robbed as Fred stumbled out the door of the bank and tried to aim at the robbers with his handgun.

  "We've been robbed." He shouted at Gil and Lou

  Gil raised his gun and winged one of the outlaws. Lou got on his horse and chased them until they were clear out of town, but he came back empty handed, moments later.

  "We need to get a posse up now." Lou said his face suddenly serious.

  Gil glanced at him with a frown. "Now who are we gonna get Lou? Only two other men in town arm themselves, Fred, and Homer at the blacksmith shop. The others would be no help."

  "Well, we'll get them, then." Lou said. "We can't do nothing."

  "Alright, tell Fred to mount up, and I'll go get Homer."

  Lou nodded.

  Homer had heard the shooting and come out of the shed he worked in. "What was all the ruckus, Gil?"

  "Bank was robbed." Gil said breathlessly. "Will you come with us?"

  "Sure…let me get my hat and wipe my hands." Homer said. Checking to see if he still had his gun on his hip.

  In ten minutes, they were ready to ride.

  They found their trail outside of town and followed it. The outlaws were so eager to get away; they didn't bother hiding their trail. Someone was bleeding as blood made a trail for quite a ways out of town.

  Two hours later they stopped. "We've lost their trail."

  "Well, aren't we going to try to find it again?" Fred asked in frustration.

  "No, let's head back to town. I'll send some telegrams around the area for the local sheriffs to be on the outlook for robbers. Maybe they can catch them."

  "Little good that will do." Fred huffed. "You've got to be aggressive in these things, Lou. You can't sit back and let someone else do your job. Let some other Sheriff find your robbers for you. We should hunt them down, no matter how long it takes."

  "Don't tell me how to do my job, Fred. You're overstepping it. Look, you got any better ideas?" Lou asked him.

  "Well you don't just give up, Sheriff." Fred informed him.

  "Maybe you should run for Sheriff, huh Fred?" Gil shot him an aggravated glance. "Especially since you know what we should be doing all the time."

  Fred returned the frown. "I have a job, deputy, and so do you."

  "Thanks for reminding me. Now tell me did you get a look at any of them?" Gil asked as they headed back to town.

  "They wore masks, how could I?" Fred scoffed.

  "Well, did you notice anything about them that might help identify them? Were they heavy set, skinny, did they limp when they walked? Did they reek of tobacco, anything that might hint who they were?"

  Fred thought about it a minute. "One of them had kind of a gravelly voice, and he coughed a lot. That's all I noticed. I was a little busy, getting their money for them…." Fred excused himself. "The leader, the one that did all the talking, he was older than the others. The others looked young."

  "Well now, that will come in handy, if we ever hear a gravelly voice, I guess. Was he the one that demanded the money?"

  "Yeah, the others didn't say a word." Fred said a hint of exasperation hiding in his voice.

  "Could you see anything unusual about them?" Gil kept hammering for something to go on.

  "The one with the voice looked middle aged some of his hair sticking out of his hat was gray, the others looked young from what I could tell."

  "Did you notice their hair color or their eyes?"

  "Their hair?" Fred scrunched up his face into a real frown, and shot Gil a scowl.

  "Yeah, did they have long hair or short?"

  "Shaggy mostly. None of them looked as though they'd had a bath in a month or so. They stunk…"

  "Did you notice what color?"

  "The older one had his hair cut, it was fairly neat, but the younger ones were shaggy. There was a blond young kid, and a couple of dark haired ones. They all had old clothes on."

  "That's good Fred. Now we are getting somewhere. Did you notice if they were tall or short?"

  Fred thought on that. "The old one was medium height. One of the younger ones was tall and dark like the leader, the other two short."

  "Alright, that will help some. Would you recognize them if you saw them again?" Lou asked, giving Gil a break with his interrogation.

  "I'm not sure." Fred hung his head. "I'm sorry…I was a little bit shook, when they came in with their guns on the ready."

  "Well, believe it or not, that information can help us. But I want all of you to keep your eyes peeled for anyone suspicious looking in town. Anyone spending large amounts of money, or boasting a lot." Lou said.

  Gil had been silent listening to Fred. He had listened carefully and was trying to put the description Fred gave to a face he might know. But the middle-aged man threw him.

  As they rode back, Lou was telling Gil, "If you see anyone spending a lot of money, let me know. You know, playing poker with more than twenty dollars in their pockets at one time or buying drinks for everyone at the bar, that kind of thing. Not many regulars in town do that. Those boys will want to spend some of it. So keep your eyes open."

  Gil nodded.

  Homer was a black man, but he was a dependable man in a situation like this. He said very little
, but Gil liked having him along, he kept his cool and he had a sense of right and wrong.

  "Did anyone get a look at their horses?" Lou asked.

  "One was riding a light colored bay." Homer told him.

  "Homer, be on the lookout for anyone with thrown shoes or such. A lot of times a horse will throw one when they are running that hard."

  "That's good thinking Lou." Homer nodded.

  "You got to be practical to catch people like this. Somewhere around here, they'll be spending some of that money. Fred, how much you figure they got away with."

  "About ten thousand I'd say…" Fred calculated in his head.

  "Paper, gold or coins?"

  "Paper mostly. They were in a big hurry. It was as if they hadn't planned it very carefully. Just a spur of the moment thing. Walk in, hold me up and take off." Fred said. "But they did blow the safe, which I wasn't expecting them to do. They used dynamite."

  "Did they act familiar with the people in the bank, or with the bank itself? You know, like they'd been in the bank before?"

  "As a matter of fact, they did. They knew we kept it in the safe. When I couldn't get it open myself, they blew it wide open. It all happened so fast. They asked me politely I might add, to open the safe. They didn't speak to anyone but me. And luckily there was no one in the bank at the time but me and Mr. Phelps, the owner."

  "Where was he?"

  "In the back room. In his office. He never came out."

  "We need to check on him. They may have knocked him out first. Or killed him."

  Gil nodded again. They had some good leads, he thought.

  As they rode back to town a lady came running toward them, it was Jo. "They knocked Mr. Phelps out; he's over at the doc's right now." She quickly informed them. "Any luck?"

  "No…not yet. Thanks Jo." Lou said.

  Lou glanced at Gil. "I'm going over to the docs to talk to Mr. Phelps. Go on over to the telegraph office and wire the Sheriff of the nearby towns. Tell them to be on the lookout, and to put guards in the banks. Might tell them to put guards on their stages too."

  "Sure thing." Gil nodded. "I'll take care of it. Hope Mr. Phelps is alright."

  "Me too." Lou mumbled. Gil could tell he was upset about not finding the culprits. But there would be a better day, Gil was sure of that.

  Chapter Three

  Callie walked the porch several times, glancing down the road. She'd done everything she could for Mrs. Boggs this morning; the poor woman wasn't getting any better, laid up with consumption. She wondered if Joe or his father saw after her regular. The sheets needed changing, but Callie didn't know if there were any clean ones or not, so she left them. Besides, with all of the men gone, she couldn't lift Mrs. Boggs herself and get the sheets.

  Joe and his bunch weren't back yet. That bothered her. What possessed them to rob the bank was beyond Callie. She'd been hearing bits and pieces for weeks that they intended to do it, but she really thought it was just talk. She wondered if she should go into town and warn Gil and Lou. However, she determined she might be better off staying here, and finding out what she could. At first, she just thought it was a brag from Joe, but when she saw them ride out at first light, she wasn't as sure.

  Her mind wandered to Gil Sutton too. She knew he was still a deputy, as the boys had mentioned him a time or two. Despite the fact that they poked fun at the clean cut, straight shooting deputy, Callie recognized a certain amount of jealousy from Joe.

  She had liked Gil all her life, but he was too much a goody-two-shoe to trust. He went by the law, and he didn't see the gray in between. Still, he had a way of making her heart trip every time he was around. There were things about Gil that endeared him to her, whether she liked the idea or not. He'd saved her once from drowning, she could never forget that, and he'd called her his girl back then. Secretly, she'd been proud of it.

  Trouble was, she'd grown up with Joe Boggs, and his brothers, and it wouldn't be right to turn them in. However, just being here involved her too. She'd just come out to visit Joe's mother, she liked the old woman. They got along well. Now she felt she was somehow involved and it bothered her.

  Evidently, they were more serious about robbing that bank than she knew. Before it had just been a lot of talk, the kind one sat around and laughed about. Seeing the look on Joe's face this morning told her otherwise. And fear gripped her now as she waited to hear the news from them.

  They certainly weren't quiet about their plans. Joe was actually bragging about it.

  Callie knew she should leave before they came back, but she was worried, especially since Joe's father was with them. The old man had no right getting mixed up in Joe's shenanigans. But he was even more stubborn than Joe about it. She never liked mister Boggs, but she tolerated him for his wife's sake.

  Sure enough, they came riding into the yard like a bunch of wild horses now. Yelling at the top of their lungs about what they had done. Like it was something to brag about.

  Callie stood rock still. She didn't want to know what happened but she had to. The more information she had, the worse it would look for her. Everyone in Hard Knocks had her figured as an outlaw just because she befriended Joe.

  She twisted her hands together, kneading them as they came toward her. She saw Billy Jenkins staggering toward her with a shirt full of blood all over him. The sight of him bleeding like a stuffed pig had her more than a little anxious.

  "What…what happened?" She blurted as he nearly fell into her arms.

  "Billy took a bullet, but we got the money," Joe whooped, as though it were all worth it.

  "Billy, come on, let's get you inside." Callie helped him into the house. The others scattered in the parlor and Callie took Billy to one of the back bedrooms.

  Billy was only fourteen; he had no business going with them. Joe should have had better sense than to let him go.

  She washed Billy's wound and shook her head. "It's pretty bad Billy."

  Old man Boggs passed by, "We'll have to get the bullet out of him."

  "It hurts somethin' awful." Billy wailed.

  Callie turned to look at the old man. "Why did you do it?"

  "You just tend to Billy there…" He turned and walked away, his eyes blazing with some newfound courage.

  Joe came back to check on his younger cousin.

  "Why Joe?" She asked as she washed the wound once more, this time with alcohol.

  Billy winced.

  "A house costs money, we didn't have the rent this month. That's why. Now why don't you mosey on home and we'll take care of Billy." He suggested. "You ain't got the stomach for this kind of life. That's for sure and certain."

  "You ought to have better sense than this Joe. A man your father's age getting messed up in something like this, a boy Billy's age, you ought to know better," Callie scolded. "That's some gang you have."

  "Now you gonna hang us before we've had time to celebrate? We don't need you Callie, go home. We don't need anybody preaching to us." Joe frowned at her, his deep-set eyes narrowing on her. "And if you know what's good for you and Sam, keep your mouth shut."

  "Fine, I'll go, but your Ma is ailing something awful today." Callie cried. "I tried everything I know to help her, she's just not responding. And those sheets are dirty, they need to be changed."

  "She's been ailing for some time." Joe told her. "It's not your concern. Go home, Callie."

  "She's my friend." Callie responded.

  "Go home, and keep your mouth shut. My Pa hears you talking like this he's liable to get riled. Now go on home. I'll talk to you later." He told her.

  "You do this again, and I won't talk to you again. It's wrong, and you know it." Callie challenged.

  Mr. Boggs came out in the hall and looked at her. "I reckon you will keep quiet, or you'll be a dead woman. Now go home." He shouted at her, narrowing his beady dark eyes on her.

  There was a natural meanness in mister Boggs that sent a chill through Callie.

  Joe came down the hall. He looked at Callie then
his father and frowned. "Pa, leave her alone. She didn't do nothin'. I reckon you should go, Callie. No use you bein' involved. Thanks for looking after Ma."

  "Alright. Just take care of her…and Billy. He's too young to be in on this." Callie's voice edged on hysteria. "You know that."

  "Yeah, yeah." Joe shot his father a glance. "Pa's pretty riled, you better hurry and get."

  "I can't believe you did this." Callie cried and put her shawl around her shoulders.

  She went outside and brought her horse out of the barn. Joe came up to her. "Look, I know you meant well. You always do, but I'm sorry Callie. Pa was worried about paying the rent, was all. It ain't as if we're going to be going into town and spending it. But with Ma sick, and us unable to pay the rent…well…what choice did we have?"

  "You could get a job, Joe. You could earn the money. You didn't have to do this. Was…anyone hurt?"

  "Yeah, Mr. Phelps."

  "Oh my word…."

  "Oh…we didn't kill him, but Pa gun butted him when he tried to pull a gun out of his coat pocket. He hit him pretty hard."

  "Mr. Phelps? Joe how could you let this happen? Mr. Phelps, and Billy and your Ma sick and all?" Callie cried.

  "It just happened, Callie. Wasn't my doing." Joe replied.

  "Joe, I’m sorry for all of you, but…I'm not having any more to do with you or your family. Your mother is very sick, Joe. If I'm not around, maybe you'll get the good sense to take her to the doctor. Please take care of your mother…goodbye," she said and raised sad eyes to Joe.

  "You don't mean that…" Joe began, coming closer as she mounted her horse.

  "I'm afraid I do." She faced him now. "I still have a few friends in that town and I don't want to see them hurt. There are better ways to make ends meet, Joe. You know that." Callie scolded. "Why don't you get a job?"

  "A job, what kind of money could I make, $30 a month, for cowboying? No thanks. But you and me…we go back a ways."