A Wolf in the Fold

by Ralph Compton

  “ ‘Thou shalt not kill,’ ” I quoted. “I have a right to speak on the Lord’s behalf to save you from perdition.”

  “Oh, hell,” George said.

  The other cowboys grumbled, but I was having an effect. I pressed on. “Advise Mr. and Mrs. Tanner that I will be out to the LT tomorrow at noon to conduct services. I expect everyone on the ranch to attend.”

  I pumped the hand of each cowboy in a show of brotherliness. As they rode off, Calista’s shoulder brushed mine.

  “That was a good thing you just did. Hanging the Butchers would be wrong.”

  “Someone should ride out and warn them.” Even as I said it, I was plotting ahead. Luck had placed a fine opportunity in my lap.

  “I would go, but I have no one to look after things,” Calista said.

  Neither could I. Not and be back in time for the funeral at the LT. I mentioned as much.

  “I know a boy I can hire to ride out.”

  That settled, I ate supper. The restaurant filled, and all anyone talked about was the murders. Whiskey Flats had not seen this much excitement since the town was founded.

  I was in good spirits. Another twenty-four hours and I could start doing what I was being paid to do. I went for a walk and put on quite a show; I had a pleasant greeting for everyone I met. The townsfolk were right friendly. It occurred to me that I could start up a church if I was of a mind to and live out the rest of my days in ease and peace. I wouldn’t ever get rich, but I wouldn’t die of lead poisoning, either, a not-so-rare fate for Regulators.

  Yes, sir, I was feeling downright capital, as those gents from London say, when I returned to my room. I planned to turn in early and head out to the LT in the morning. But I wasn’t counting on finding someone perched in the chair by the window.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Daisy Butcher said. “Calista let me in. Snuck me in, is more like it, since I didn’t dare let myself be seen. My family isn’t exactly popular right now.”

  “You’ve heard about the four cowboys who were shot?”

  Daisy nodded and rose, careful now to let herself be glimpsed from below. “Calista told me. But I will swear on the Bible, if you want, that me and mine had nothing to do with it.”

  “Everyone else thinks otherwise.”

  “It’s not right, them accusing us of something we didn’t do,” Daisy said sadly. “They’d blame us for flies and measles and gout if they could.”

  I was about to take her in my arms and console her when I noticed my bedroll and saddlebags poking from under the end of the bed. Yet I distinctly recalled sliding them all the way under. Despite the lingering heat of the day, a chill seized me. “How long have you been waiting?”

  “No more than fifteen minutes.” The top of her head came only as high as my chin, and she had to tilt her head back to look me in the eyes. “Ma sent me with a message. Me and Tyrel and Clell.”

  Disappointed, I asked, “Where are they?”

  “Over behind the livery. The man who owns it is our friend. It was him who warned us when we rode in that we were in danger of being strung up on sight.”

  My fingers tingling, I sat on the edge of the bed. “What is so important your ma couldn’t wait?”

  “It’s about the meeting with the Tanners. She wants it to be the day after tomorrow at one in the afternoon, right here in town.” Daisy bit her lower lip in thought. “But I reckon that can’t be now, can it?”

  “I doubt Gertrude would accept the invite.” I went to the window and peered toward the livery but could not spot her brothers. “The best thing for you to do is ride like the wind and warn your loved ones they might be gurgling at the end of ropes if they let down their guard.”

  “The townsfolk wouldn’t!” Daisy declared. “Not without a trial!”

  I went into my preacher act. “Hate makes folks do crazy things. Look at Cain and Abel. Brother slew brother out of pure mean hate. And that pharaoh who hated Moses on account of the plagues of frogs and bugs.”

  “But we’re innocent!”

  “I believe you, my dear. But most folks here believe differently. To say nothing of the LT cowhands.”

  Daisy began to pace. “This is terrible. We should make ourselves scarce. Pack our effects and skedaddle someplace where we will be accepted for who we are and not judged to be trash just because we don’t live like everyone else or have much money.”

  I didn’t want the thousand dollars slipping through my fingers, so I said, “No need to go to that extreme. I’m on your side. So is Calista. Give us a few days to calm everyone down.”

  “Oh, Reverend,” Daisy gushed, and threw her arms around my neck in gratitude.

  My skin grew warm and prickly. I held her loosely, afraid to pull her close for fear of how my body would react. “ ‘Blessed are the peacemakers, ’ ” I mumbled.

  Daisy kissed me. Not a chaste kiss, either, but the kind of kiss a woman gives a man when she has a certain kind of hunger deep inside her.

  Damn me for being human. Double damn me for not having any more willpower than any other man.

  “I’ll take your advice,” Daisy said huskily in due course. “Ty and Clell and me will sneak off and tell Ma to wait until we hear from you.”

  It was dark enough that they should be able to slip out of Whiskey Flats undetected, but I insisted on going ahead and having her follow me, signaling when it was safe with a wave of my hand. In that way we made it down the hall and down the stairs and out the back door. Once we reached the street, I had her walk on the inside, her shoulder to mine, her head bowed.

  Ty and Clell came out of deep shadow to meet us.

  “We were getting worried,” the oldest said. “Another ten minutes and we’d have torn this town apart looking for you.”

  Daisy relayed my promise to help, which prompted Ty into grasping my hand in both of his and pumping my arm as if he were dying of thirst and I were a water pump.

  “We’re counting on you, Parson. Ma says without your help, this whole mess will get worse.”

  “She’s right,” I said.

  “You are our only hope of avoiding bloodshed,” Clell said.

  Daisy nodded. “We trust you, Parson. You inspire confidence.” She touched my cheek, then climbed on her mount.

  I smiled and watched them fade into the dark, thinking to myself, The poor, pitiful fools.

  Chapter 8

  The four cowboys were buried on a hill in the shadow of the Fair Sister. I liked doing funerals. I did not have to make up sermons. All I did was read from the Bible and say a few words about how the dear departed were the salt of the earth and how much their friends would miss them.

  The Tanners were there, of course, along with every last puncher on the spread. I counted sixteen plus the cook. Four servants Gerty employed and half a dozen townsfolk rounded out the mourners.

  Calista Modine came. After the bodies had been planted and everyone was standing around looking sorrowful or pretending to look sorrowful, I remarked that it was a shame more of Whiskey Flats’s good citizens had not shown up.

  Calista glanced around, then leaned close and said so only I could hear, “The LT outfit is not all that popular in some quarters.”

  “Care to explain?”

  Tugging gently on my sleeve, she drew me out of earshot. “For one thing, Gerty is not well liked. She is too high-handed with everyone.”

  “Imagine that.”

  “She behaves like she is a queen and the people are her subjects, and they rightfully resent it.”

  At that moment the lady in question was scolding one of the cowboys filling in one of the holes for flinging dirt recklessly with his shovel and getting some on her new shoes.

  “The other thing is that the LT’s hands tend to become rowdy when they come to town on Friday and Saturday nights. They shoot out windows and lamps, make people dance to a six-shooter serenade, that sort of nonsense.”

  “Gerty permits that?”

  “The owner of the general store and
some others have complained to her time and again. She always says how sorry she is, but men will be men, and there is only so much she can do.”

  “When should we talk to her about the Butchers?” I asked.

  “The sooner, the better.”

  The mourners, such as they were, began drifting down the hill. Townsfolk climbed into their buggies. Cowboys swung onto their horses. The Tanners lingered. Lloyd and Phil were arguing in hushed voices while Gerty waited in disgust.

  I nudged Calista and went over. “Miss Modine and I would like a few words with you, if we may.”

  “Save your breath,” Gertrude said.

  “But, Gerty—” Calista began.

  “But nothing. Do you think I don’t know what you’re going to say? That I must not be hasty. I must not jump to conclusions. There is no evidence the Butchers were involved. I should hold my men in check and not exact revenge.”

  “You missed one,” I said. “Let the law handle it.”

  “Texans don’t run crying to a badge every time someone steps on their toes,” Gertrude declared. “We handle our own problems, and the Butchers are mine.”

  I was proud of myself for the quote I remembered. “Have you not heard, sister? ‘Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.’ ”

  “The Almighty can take his vengeance whenever He wants. I’ll take mine when I want.”

  There was no reasoning with her, as I knew there would not be. But a real parson would not give up, so neither did I. “You will be damned for all eternity.”

  Gertrude looked at me and grinned. “I already am, Reverend Storm. So I might as well make the most of the time I have left.”

  “Oh, Gerty,” Calista said.

  “Don’t ‘Oh, Gerty’ me. If you had my responsibilities, you would do the same as I am doing.”

  Calista shook her head. “I would never kill. Nor would I ever give orders to have someone killed. And that’s what you intend to do, isn’t it? Unleash your cowpokes on the Butchers?”

  “Justice demands they hang.”

  “All of them?” Calista was appalled. “Even Hannah and the two girls?”

  “When you find rats in your house, you don’t kill one or two. You kill them all,” Gertrude said harshly.

  “We are talking about human lives. I warn you here and now, I won’t stand for it, and I have taken a step to prevent it.”

  “Excuse me?”

  I was as surprised as Gertrude. Calista had not said anything to me about it. “What sort of step?”

  “I have sent for the Texas Rangers.”

  Have you ever wanted to bash someone over the head with a rock? I think both Gertrude and I shared the same sentiment, because she turned as purple as a beet and balled her fists.

  “You did what?”

  “Last night. I’ve sent Horace to the Rangers with a letter I wrote detailing everything that has happened, from Everett Butcher going missing to the rustling and now the killings. Everything.”

  The last thing I wanted, the absolute last thing of all the things that could be, was to have the Texas Rangers involved. My head swirled with the problems her Good Samaritan impulse presented.

  Gertrude was carved from granite for a bit. Then, stirring, she said in a tone as cold as ice, “Please tell me you are making that up. Please tell me you are only trying to scare me into not harming your friends.”

  “As God is my witness,” Calista said.

  “Do you have any idea what you have done?” Gertrude was shaking with barely contained rage. “Do you have any idea what your meddling will cause?”

  Calista squared her shoulders. “I have stopped you from doing something you would regret.”

  “You stupid, stupid bitch.”

  Shocked, Calista took a step back. “You don’t mean that.”

  “I have never meant anything more,” Gertrude assured her. “You have stuck your nose in where it does not belong. I will never forgive you.”

  “No one has the right to lynch whosoever they please,” Calista said flatly. “Not even you.”

  Gertrude gazed toward the Fair Sister, then looked down at herself and plucked a dust mote from her dress. “Our friendship is ended.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. You are no longer welcome at the LT. When I am in town, do me the courtesy of not speaking to me.” Gertrude started down the hill, but Calista caught her by the wrist.

  “Gerty, you can’t mean that. It’s your anger speaking. We have been friends for years.”

  “No longer.” Gertrude stared at Calista’s hand until Calista removed it. Smoothing her sleeve, Gertrude said quietly, “Friends do not interfere in matters that do not concern them. Friends do not stab friends in the back. I would never presume to tell you how to run your restaurant or your boardinghouse, yet you presume to tell me how to run my ranch.”

  Not “our” ranch, as in hers and Lloyd’s, I noticed. But “my” ranch, as in hers and hers alone.

  “Waging war on the Butchers is not part of running your ranch,” Calista argued.

  “I beg to differ. LT cattle have been rustled and mutilated. LT hands have been killed. That makes it very much ranch business. Despite what you might think, it gives me the right to do as I please. But now you have interfered. You have taken the right to deal with the problem away from me. You have set yourself up over me, and it is an insult I will not bear.”

  “I just don’t want the Butchers hurt.”

  “How noble of you.” Gertrude dripped sarcasm. “How virtuous. Be sure to polish your halo when you get back to town.”

  “Please,” Calista said.

  “Our friendship is ended,” Gertrude repeated. “You are never again to set foot on the LT.” Wheeling, she strode toward the Tanner buggy.

  Calista’s eyes moistened and she made as if to follow, but I caught hold of her sleeve and said, “Let me talk to her for you.” Calista motioned, and I quickly caught up to my employer. “Is our deal still on?”

  “Of course it is,” Gertrude growled out of the side of her mouth. “I’ve paid half the money, haven’t I?”

  “What about the Rangers?”

  “What about them? It will be a week or more before they can get here. That gives you plenty of time to wipe out the Butchers and make yourself scarce.”

  “I wanted to be sure,” I said. “I’ll start today.”

  “It’s taken you long enough,” Gertrude grumbled. “As soon as you are done, come see me and you will receive the rest of the money. No matter what hour of the day or night.”

  “Your husband might wonder why I’m on your doorstep at four in the morning,” I remarked.

  “Who said anything about coming to the door? My bedroom is the second window from the left as you face the rear of our house.”

  “But, Lloyd—”

  “Didn’t you hear me? I have my own bedroom. He has his own. I only sleep with him when I am in the mood and I am hardly ever in the mood, which irks him no end.”

  I could see where a husband might object to being barred from his wife’s embraces. “I can’t blame him.”

  Gertrude stopped and faced me. “Haven’t you realized by now that I am accustomed to getting my own way? No one tells me how to live. Especially not my husband. I do what I want, when I want.”

  The more I learned about her, the more formidable she became. “A lot of men wouldn’t stand for it.”

  “Nonsense. Most men have the spines of jellyfish. Lloyd has no gumption at all. It’s why I married him.”

  “You picked a puny man on purpose?”

  “Weak men are easy to control. Strong men are not. I chose someone I could wrap around my finger and keep him wrapped from the ‘I do’ until I plant him. I haven’t ever told anyone this, and I trust you will keep it to yourself.”

  It was with mixed feelings that I watched the Tanners leave. Lloyd had climbed up without a word, but the son had paused.

  “Nice eulogy, Parson. Short and to the point. You’re not a windb
ag like some preachers I’ve come across.” Phil had winked at me. “Some people are never what you take them for, are they?”

  That had me wondering. Had Gertrude confided in him about me? I hoped not. If she had broken her word, she was in for a nasty surprise when I was done with the Butchers.

  Calista was waiting by the buckboard. I helped her up, mounted to the seat, and turned the buckboard around. Clouds of dust from those who preceded us caused her to cough and cover her nose and mouth with her hand. The LT was well behind us when she lowered it and commented, “All these years I thought Gerty was my friend.”

  “She is upset about the killings.”

  “That’s no excuse for severing our friendship.” Calista removed her hat and set it in her lap. The play of sun on her hair and face was quite appealing. “A true friend does not cast you aside like an old hat.”

  “She will come to her senses in time and say she is sorry.” I did not believe that for a second, but I was such an accomplished liar by now, the lies spilled out without me having to think them up.

  “You know better. Gerty never admits she is wrong. She never apologizes. Why should she, when in her eyes she never makes mistakes?”

  “It must be nice to be perfect.”

  Calista smiled and fluffed her hair. “She would say we judge her unfairly. But the truth is, she sees only what she wants to see when she looks in the mirror.”

  “Don’t we all?” I rarely used mirrors. My reflection only reminded me of what I had become. Yet I had no hankering to change. Wasn’t that odd?

  “True,” Calista said. “I just wish I knew what Gerty was up to. It might explain her attitude.”

  “You’ve lost me,” I admitted.

  “For months she has not been herself. Oh, she has always been a cold fish, and always looked down her nose at the rest of humanity. But something more is going on. She isn’t like she used to be.”

  “You’ve still lost me.”

  “How can I explain?” Calista asked herself aloud. “It’s little things you wouldn’t recognize because you haven’t known her as long as I have. She’s changed. Become more withdrawn. More secretive.”

  “Maybe it is your imagination,” I suggested. It would not do to have her link Gertrude’s strange behavior to my arrival and the soon-to-be-departed Butchers.