Once again, the night was dark and quiet. The only commotion he could hear were echoes from Omaha’s saloon district. By the time Hayes untied his horse’s reins and climbed into the saddle, Vernon and some of the other men had found their way back.
“Did you see where they went?” Vernon asked.
“That way,” Hayes replied while pointing in the direction the outlaws had gone. “Do you want the rest of those bullets now or later?”
“Drop them off whenever you like. Just make sure we have them before noon tomorrow.”
“All right, then. I’m going to find a hotel in a safer part of town.”
Chapter 23
Corbin, Nebraska
The supper Bethany prepared was a simple beef stew served over split biscuits. At least, it should have been simple. He’d tasted worse in his life, but not by much. With liberal application of salt, pepper, and more pepper, it went down well enough. Afterward, the boys ran outside and Bethany invited Aldus to sit with her on the porch. Michael remained close, eyeing Aldus with cautious curiosity. On a whim, Aldus stood up and walked over to him.
“Here you go,” he said as he held out his arm and leaned down to the boy’s level. “Grab on.”
Michael looked up at him and then over to his mother.
“It’s all right,” Bethany said.
When Michael grabbed Aldus’s arm with both hands, Aldus lifted him off the ground and let him swing. “Just like a monkey,” Aldus said.
The instant Michael’s feet touched the ground, he was reaching for the same arm. “Do it again! Again!”
This time, Aldus held on to both of the little boy’s hands and swung him in a circle. James was quick to rush over and demand his turn. Soon they were climbing all over him and laughing every second of the way. Several minutes later, the boys were still raring to go and Aldus could barely catch his breath.
“That’s enough, you two,” Bethany said. “Go inside and get ready for bed.”
Amid a chorus of whines, the boys trudged into the house.
Placing a hand on his shoulder, Bethany said, “I need to get them tucked in. School tomorrow. You can wait here if you like. That is . . . if you don’t have anything else to do.”
“If you’d prefer to get some rest, I understand,” he said.
“It’s nice talking to you face-to-face.”
“Then I’ll wait here. I still need to collect myself after all that roughhousing. I work like a mule most days, but this nearly did me in!”
“You should be here when they’re really wound up. Help yourself to whatever you like in the kitchen. You sure you want to wait?”
“I’m sure.”
“Then I’ll see you in a while.”
Aldus sat in a rocker on her porch, looking out at the town that extended to the south and east. In the fading rays of the sun, he could even see Hayes’s wagons and shooting gallery. There was paint to touch up, signs to hang, guns to clean, displays to construct, plus any number of odd jobs that needed to be done before the next morning. Still, he remained on that porch and allowed the last bit of the workday to slip from his grasp. He’d come too far to do any different.
Bethany returned several minutes later. The sun had set, the air was cool, and she was wrapped in a shawl as she pulled up the second rocker closer beside him. “Sorry that took so long,” she said. “They wanted two stories instead of just one.”
“I didn’t mind waiting.”
Drawing the shawl in tightly around her shoulders, Bethany stared out at the town’s lit windows and watched folks make their way toward the saloons. “Can I ask you something, Aldus?”
“Go right ahead.”
“I . . . don’t want you to think me rude.”
He looked over at her, forming a guess in his mind as to what was on hers.
“Why are you here in Corbin?” she asked. “Or . . . why now when you never made the trip any of those other times you were in Omaha?”
“When I wrote my first letter to you . . . I believe I even mentioned how I could have ridden down here, but I never heard anything from you. Fact is, I didn’t hear anything back from my first couple of letters until nearly a year had passed. You were never unkind when you eventually wrote back, but you never really took me up on my offer.”
She sighed. “I was afraid of that. I just thought . . . with all the times we’ve written over the last year or so that it might come up again. I do remember you bringing it up back in that first letter. I was just . . . in a situation where seeing you may not have been appropriate.”
“Because of Nate Talbott?”
For a second, Bethany looked surprised. Then she blinked a few times and nodded. “I suppose I did mention his name in my letters.”
“Were the two of you together?”
“For a time. Actually,” she added, “it was about the same time I got that first letter you sent. Me and Nate hadn’t been together for long, but it seemed like we both knew where it was headed. To be honest, I doubted I’d meet anyone who would be interested in me at all.”
That made Aldus cringe. The fact that Bethany, of all people, could think something like that made him feel doubly foolish for not having the backbone to tell her how he felt so long ago.
She was gazing up at the darkening sky. “My husband, William, was a good man,” she said. “He had his faults, but I thought I could help see him through them. We didn’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of things. Even when James was born, he seemed more interested in his work than being with his child or wife.”
“He drove cattle, right?”
“Yes. He was gone a lot, but when the rest of the boys from that ranch came home, William would be missing for an extra day or two. I guessed he was out drinking. When he came home, he’d always promise to straighten up and be a better father. He always talked about having lots of children. A part of me thought that he wasn’t good enough with the first one, but we decided to have another. Once Michael came along, I thought William would change for the better. He did for a while, but it wasn’t long before he started disappearing again. When he took ill, it hit the boys hard.”
“Must’ve hit you as well,” Aldus said.
“It did. After he passed on, though, life seemed about the same as it was before. Just me and the boys. Then Nate came along a few years later. He seemed like a good sort. The boys didn’t mind him being around and I thought they could use a man to look up to. Also . . . I was lonely.” She let her head fall forward. “That must sound so pathetic.”
“Not at all. You don’t have to explain yourself this way.”
After drawing a deep breath, Bethany said, “I do, Aldus. It was wrong of me to ignore those first few letters you sent. I felt so bad about it and you deserve to know why. That is . . . if you care about such things.”
He nodded. “I care.”
Bethany reached over to put her hand on top of his. Rather than let it stay there for long, she patted him a few times and then sank back into her rocker. “I’d just settled in and figured Nate was about as good a man as I could expect. There were times when he seemed similar to William. Other times, he was worse.”
Aldus wanted to ask what that entailed, but he allowed her to tell the story at her own pace.
“Nate was settling in, too,” she continued. “He mentioned marriage but hadn’t really asked me yet. I wasn’t anxious to rush to that point, but it seemed good for the boys to have a father again. My mother and sisters visited me about that time and they told me what they thought of Nate. It wasn’t much.”
“They didn’t like him?”
“Not many folks did. I always just thought I could help him become a better man. Maybe smooth out the rough edges. Anyway, I’d come this far already and it didn’t seem right for me to just turn around and tell him to go.” After what seemed a prolonged absence, her smile returned. “T
hat’s when I got your first letter. You were so earnest and so sweet, just like the boy I remembered. You mentioned wanting to see me, and my first thought was to drop everything and run to see you. I mentioned it to Jenny, my older sister, and she said I should do just that. I was so close, Aldus. I almost did it.”
Aldus was glad it was dark on that porch because he knew for a fact that he couldn’t hide what he was thinking. If she looked at him for just a few seconds, she’d be able to tell he was reflecting on how wonderful it would have been if they’d met. How different everything would have been for both of them. How much better . . .
But it never served anyone to regret where they were or the mistakes they’d made. All that was left to do was find a way to set things right. If there was any reason at all for revisiting painful memories, that was it.
“I should have gone to see you,” she said. “At least I should have written you back promptly. The reason I didn’t was that I was afraid that I might just . . . I don’t know. Maybe having the boys made me more cautious than I should have been.”
“By not running off to meet up with a man you hadn’t seen for years who’d been fighting on the docks of New York? That doesn’t sound too cautious to me. It sounds like you were using your head.”
She laughed. “When you say it that way . . .”
“You don’t owe me any explanations,” Aldus told her. “But it is nice to hear what’s been going on.”
“You asked about Nate. I guess that was a bit more than you were hoping to hear. I tend to prattle on when I get nervous.”
“So, where’s Nate now?”
She lowered her head and adjusted the shawl as if hearing his name alone was enough to make her feel colder. “He hasn’t been around here for a while.”
“In your letters,” he said, “you stopped mentioning him.” Aldus had to pause so he could remember what Hayes had told him. “Or . . . it seemed he’d left. There was a problem with you and Nate. After that, you seemed sad.”
“I did?”
Aldus nodded. “It wasn’t so much of what you wrote, but how you wrote it. I could tell there was something different about you. Something just wasn’t quite right. It struck me that you were feeling low. Sad, weary, maybe afraid.”
Those last few words struck a nerve. The smile on Bethany’s face suddenly seemed like a thin coat of paint that fell away as he watched. “Things have been difficult lately. Nate and I have had our rough patches. But you know that because I wrote about it.”
Aldus had never cursed his difficulty in that regard more than at that particular moment.
“He’d been drinking more than his fill,” she explained. “Staying at the saloons longer and longer until he just stopped coming over here at all. I let it go for a few weeks, but when he started getting cross with the boys, I wouldn’t have any more of it.”
“What did he do to the boys?”
“They can try anyone’s patience just like any child, but he would start yelling at Michael to keep quiet, calling him terrible names. When James told him to stop, Nate pushed him down and would have done worse if I hadn’t stepped in.”
Trying to contain the rage that was churning in his belly, Aldus told her, “You did the right thing.”
“I know. Nate didn’t like me reprimanding him in front of the boys and he . . .”
“What did he do?”
“He was drunk. I don’t think he knew what he was doing.”
Aldus wanted to hear exactly what had happened, but he could tell it would only hurt Bethany again if he pressed her on the matter. Since she was obviously uncomfortable thinking about it, he eased back.
“After that night,” she said, “I told him to leave and never come back. Since then, he’s come around a few times to try and get back into my good graces. Sometimes he says hurtful things, but I know he’d never act on them.”
“Act on them? Has he threatened you?”
Bethany didn’t say yes or no. In fact, she remained utterly still before saying, “I can take care of myself and I can take care of my children.”
“When does he come around?”
“He’s not on any set schedule and it’s not very often, as I’ve said. Besides, all he does is talk.” She took a quick breath, blinked, and put her smile back on. It wasn’t the beaming one that came from her heart, but it was better than a single coat of paint. “Enough of that. If you thought I was in trouble, I apologize. I am glad you’re here, though.”
“I’m glad, too. I should have the gallery ready tomorrow afternoon. Bring the boys along and let them take a run at it.”
“A shooting gallery?”
“Sure!” Aldus said. “The young’uns love it.”
“I don’t know if I want my boys shooting a gun.”
“They’ll need to learn sometime. Besides, it’s not like I just hand them a pistol and tell them to go to work. I’ve been doing this for a while. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to them.”
“Will I get to meet your friend Zeke?”
“He should be back soon,” Aldus said. “Probably the day after tomorrow. He’s always in a hurry to get to Omaha, but he’s never in a rush to leave. Know what I mean?”
“Oh yes,” she chuckled. “We get plenty of rowdies either on their way to Omaha or staggering away from it.” After a moment, Bethany said, “I suppose I can bring the boys over to see the gallery. I’m sure they’d enjoy it.”
Aldus stood up and stretched his back. “And I guess I should be going. Thank you so much for the meal, Bethany.”
She stepped up to him, placed her hands on his face, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “And thank you for coming here. It’s good to make up for a bit of lost time.”
There were plenty of things Aldus wanted to say to that. Before he made a fool out of himself, however, he nodded quietly, put on a shaky smile, and walked back to the Kolby Arms Hotel.
Chapter 24
After seeing Bethany the night before, Aldus woke up bright and early the next day. While that wasn’t a surprise in itself, he felt ready to run everywhere he needed to go. He had a large breakfast at the hotel, which tasted even sweeter because it was free. There were already a few locals poking about near the wagons and gallery when he made his way to the field outside town, and Aldus talked them up as he made his final preparations. He wasn’t sure what he said since the words just spilled out of him, but the folks nearby laughed and waited anxiously for the gallery to be opened.
Aldus had heard Hayes’s first-day speech every time they entered a new town. Even though many of the folks in the towns they frequented had heard it several times as well, Hayes still recited it word for word as if it was a beloved tradition. Now it was Aldus’s turn and he spoke those words with as much flair as he could muster. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fill his partner’s top hat, but he drummed up enough interest to form a line at the gallery and sell a good number of tickets.
The first few shots that were taken rattled Aldus by reminding him of the confrontation in Seedley. It wasn’t long before he’d boxed up those gruesome memories and stored them in the back of his mind along with the other unpleasantness that would surely pay him a visit through dreams and lonely echoes. His spirits were truly lifted when Bethany brought her sons along to get a look at the town’s newest attraction.
Michael was frightened by all the noise, but refused to look away as bottles exploded and targets were knocked down.
James couldn’t get his hands on a gun fast enough. The disappointment on his face was palpable when Aldus handed him a skinny little .22-caliber rifle.
“I don’t want that one,” the boy whined. “I want one of the big ones. Or a pistol! Like a real gunfighter!”
Aldus stepped in front of the display of Hayes’s modified Winchesters and buffalo rifles to block them from view. “How about you start with this one? It’s a lot like
the one I used to shoot squirrels when I was your age.”
James’s eyes grew big as saucers and when he twisted around to look at his mother, Bethany told him, “I will not have you shooting squirrels!”
Although the boy was clearly disappointed, he felt better once he had his hands on the rifle. Aldus showed him how to hold it, helped him sight down the barrel, and pointed him at the row of bottles at the opposite end of the gallery. James fired and yelped at the sound without sending so much as a chip of glass into the air.
“My fault,” Aldus said. “I forgot to tell you one very important thing. You gotta squeeze the trigger, nice and slow. Don’t pull. You hear me?”
James nodded as if he’d just received one of the universe’s biggest secrets. After taking several moments of intense concentration, he took his shot and clipped one of the bottles well enough to send it wobbling off its perch.
“I did it!” he shouted.
Aldus was quick to take the rifle from the excited boy’s hands before clapping him on the back. “Nice job. Wild Bill couldn’t have done any better.”
“You knew Wild Bill Hickock?”
“Well, no. It’s my guess he started off with a rifle just like this one, though.”
“I want to fire a pistol!”
“You’ll have to ask your ma about that.”
James turned to Bethany and proceeded to jump and beg until she finally gave in.
“All right,” she said, “but only if Mr. Bricker helps you.”
“Is it all right, Mr. Bricker?” James asked. “I’ll do just what you tell me.”
“Only on one condition. No more Mr. Bricker. Ain’t nobody calls me that. Just call me Aldus.”
James grinned and nodded. His grin became even wider when Aldus went to the covered wagon to retrieve his gun belt and buckle it around his waist. Then he drew the Schofield from his holster and held it down low so James could get a better look.
“Oh boy!” James said. “You ever killed a man?”
Bethany started to scold her son, but Aldus quickly said, “No harm done. I’ve been in plenty of fistfights, but I’m no gunman.”
Ralph Compton Straight Shooter Page 23
