by Ralph Cotton
“Of course you did.” Beckman gave him a grave stare for a moment, then started to say more on the matter. But before he could speak, footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hall caused him to stop, straighten upright in his chair and fidget with his stiff collar. “We’ll talk more about it later,” he whispered as the doorknob turned.
Brothers Edmunds and Searcy stepped inside the room first, giving a quick look around before taking a position on either side of the door. Father Jessup stepped inside and stopped for a moment, allowing Beckman and Lexar to stand up respectfully. Then, motioning the two to be seated, he stood with his arms crossed and stared from one to the other with a strange half smile on his large face. Finally he stepped closer to the banker and fixed his gaze down on him.
“Brother Beckman,” Jessup said, towering over the frightened banker, “is there any reasonable excuse in this world for those four men not depositing their money in our bank. If there is please tell us. I’m sure we’d all like to hear it.”
Beckman cowered in his chair, looking up at Jessup. “They were concerned, Father,” he said meekly. “Seeing those men whipped in the street has caused them to rethink trusting the railroad’s money to us.”
“Hmph!” said Jessup. “What a coincidence that they should express such a belief at about the same time you’ve been going around behind my back harping about doing away with public whippings.”
“Oh, no, Father,” said Beckman, his voice turning broken and unsteady, “I haven’t gone around harping about anything behind your back!” His eyes widened in terror. “It’s true. Their leader, Mr. Able, is greatly put off about the whipping incident! He insists on meeting you personally before entrusting the money to our bank. But, Father, please don’t think I have said anything against you or our community. I would never do such a thing!”
“Is that so?” Jessup turned his attention to Lexar, asking, “What say you, Brother Lexar? Has our dear Brother Beckman said anything against me or the way this community is being ministered?”
With a wide smile of satisfaction Lexar gave Beckman a glance, then said very calmly to Jessup, “He hasn’t shut up complaining about how this community is being run since he walked in here.”
“What?” Beckman looked stunned. “I—I discussed some concerns I have had about the whippings of late! But, my goodness! I never meant it to sound as if I had any—”
“Now he’s lying,” Lexar said, chuckling slightly, wearing the same grin. “He made me swear an oath not to reveal anything he said about you, or how the town is being run, or about our finances being short right now.”
“Did he indeed?” said Jessup, giving Beckman a dark stare.
“My God, Lexar! How can you do this to me?” Beckman sobbed, knowing he’d made a terrible mistake confiding in the man. “We both swore an oath!”
“That’s true,” Lexar said smugly, “but I just unswore mine. I only swore it to flush out someone who is undermining the well-being and the brotherhood of our community. I don’t believe I’ve committed any wrongdoing. Have I, Brother Jessup?” He gave the religious leader an expression of innocence. “I bow to your wisdom in such matters, of course.”
“You’ve done just fine, Brother Lexar,” said Jessup. “This community is grateful to you for doing your Christian best to weed out one of the fallen.”
“Fallen?” said Beckman, his face contorted by fear, a sheen of sweat across his brow. “I remain ever true to our beliefs and the doctrine of our Lord! I only stated what was on my mind. I only did it out of care and concern for our community!”
“That’s difficult to understand, Brother Beckman,” said Lexar, motioning for Edmunds and Searcy to step forward for the trembling banker. “At any rate it isn’t for me to judge you. That is the Lord’s job. I will only do as He leads me to do in this matter.”
Beckman looked back and forth between Edmunds and Searcy with a terrified expression. Then he pleaded, “Father, please don’t do this to me. Please don’t kill me!”
“I wouldn’t dream of killing you, Brother Beckman,” said Jessup in all sincerity. “But you will have to be punished. After which you will return to the bank. However, your job will no longer be bank manager. Instead, you will teach Brother Lexar everything he needs to know about running the bank for us.” Turning his gaze to Lexar, he said, “Congratulations, Brother Lexar. I know we can count on you to do a splendid and loyal job.”
“I will do as the spirit leads me,” Lexar said humbly.
Brothers Edmunds and Searcy reached down and pulled Beckman up from his chair. “Come with us, Beckman,” Edmunds commanded.
Beckman couldn’t keep from coming to his feet. “Please, Father Jessup! What is to become of me? Are they going to torture me?”
“What men of weak spirit call torture, men of greater spirit call redemption,” said Jessup. “Let us see which of the two you are.” He gave Beckman a cruel smile and gave the two men a nod toward the door. “Take him outside, Brothers. I’ll be right along.”
“No!” Beckman pleaded loudly. “Please, no!” His voice became shrill, hysterical. “Father, I have sinned! All right? I admit it! I was wrong saying anything! I should have kept my mouth shut! But I’ve learned my lesson! God help me, I have learned!”
“Not quite yet, you haven’t,” said Jessup. “But I’m confident that Brothers Edmunds and Searcy are going to put you on the right path.”
Lexar gave a dark muffled chuckle as the two men led Beckman from the room, the banker sobbing aloud and struggling with them. Father Jessup stepped over and closed the door behind them. Turning to Lexar he said quietly, “I think I will meet with those railroad men, Brother Lexar. After all, they have money and we need money. Perhaps the Lord is giving us a sign.” As he spoke he walked to the window and looked down on the hotel across the street. Out front of the hotel, Shelby Keys stood smoking a cigar and pacing back and forth restlessly. “After all, Lexar,” Jessup added, “the Lord does truly work in mysterious ways.”
“His glory to fulfill,” Lexar said, finishing the verse for him. He took a long sip of water, then asked, “Would you like for me to arrange for them to meet you in the bank, maybe tomorrow sometime?”
“Yes,” said Jessup, “tomorrow early, before the heat of the day is upon us. I think these railroad men might be the answer to our prayers.”
Chapter 9
In a corner of the lobby inside the hotel, Rudy took a bottle of whiskey from inside his black suit coat, pulled the cork and offered it to Randall, who looked around nervously and at first seemed reluctant to take it. “Oh, I almost forgot,” said Rudy with a taunting smile. “This is the same stuff that caused you to get the hell beat out of you. Maybe you better leave this alone.” He swished the contents of the bottle as he started to withdraw it.
“Wait a minute,” said Jim Heady with defiance in his voice. He snatched the whiskey from Rudy’s hand. “To hell with Jessup! He’s a dead man anyway, as soon as I get a shot at him.” He swigged long and deep from the bottle, then wiped his mouth with his hand as he passed the bottle on to Randall Turner. “Is this what you brought us in here to talk about?” he asked Rudy.
“Obliged,” Randall said, taking the bottle from Heady, but passing it back to Rudy without taking a drink.
Instead of answering Heady, Rudy commented on Randall turning down the drink of whiskey. “What’s this?” he said. “A man spends the night licking his wounds in a cell and doesn’t even want a stiff drink or two to make him feel better?”
“I wasn’t whipped as bad as him,” Randall said, nodding at Heady. His voice turned more solemn. “Besides, I don’t drink.”
Rudy, Ernie and Orsen studied Randall closely for a moment before Rudy said with an incredulous expression, “You mean after Jessup taking your wife, whipping you and all, you’re still one of his followers?”
“I never was one of his followers,” said Randall. “I just don’t drink. I never did.”
“But you still believe in all th
at religious stuff? All that Bible malarkey anyway?” Rudy asked, searching for insight into Randall’s character, as if sizing him up for a job.
“The Bible’s not malarkey,” Randall said firmly, “and yes I believe in religion. But I believe in my own religion, not Jessup’s. As blasphemous as it might be considered here in Paradise, a person can believe in God and still not follow the teachings of Malcom Jessup.”
“Oh…?” Rudy narrowed his gaze. “Then what brought you and your young wife here in the first place?”
“Jessup lured my wife’s folks into his community of believers. When they died, we spent everything we had to come here and claim their land and belongings. We thought we’d try homesteading the place. But we found that Jessup had taken over everything, because her folks owed him money…or so he claimed.”
“I see,” said Rudy with contemplation. “So you do have some dirt that needs settling with him, the same as this young man.” He pointed at Jim Heady.
“I want my wife back,” said Randall. “That’s all I care about.”
“No vengeance, no pound of flesh?” Rudy asked. “Not even the land and the belongings that brought you here to begin with?”
“Not anymore,” said Randall. “Just my wife. That’s all I want.”
“All right, I understand,” said Rudy, as if dismissing him. Turning to Heady and handing him the bottle again, he said, “What about you, young man? You say you’re going to kill Father Jessup…but how serious are you?” He looked Heady up and down as if for the first time, noting his bare shoulders, the ends of the whip marks showing around on his chest.
Heady took a drink, his eyes staying on Rudy’s. Lowering the bottle from his lips he said, “Hand me a gun, point me toward him and I’ll show you how serious.” He reached a hand out toward Rudy’s belly gun.
“Whoa now!” Placing a protective hand over his gun butt, Rudy laughed with approval and nodded at Orsen and Ernie. “See, I told you both, this young man was going to come out with one hell of a grudge against Jessup! Damn, I was right! He wants to kill him before he even gets a shirt on!”
“You don’t know how right,” said Heady, his bare shoulders stiffening in anger at the very thought of what Jessup had done to him.
“That’s good to hear,” said Rudy, “because we’re going to bring Jessup to you.” Raising a finger as if to have Heady hold his thought for a moment, Rudy turned to Randall and said, “I believe you ought to run along now. I’ve got things to talk to this man about—things that you don’t want to be a part of.”
Without a reply, Randall turned and walked toward the door, his shirt torn open down the back and the two long red whip cuts showing. “Hold on, Randall,” Heady called out, causing the other man to stop at the hotel door. To Rudy, Heady said, “This man is my friend. You can’t tell him to leave.” He stepped over to Randall. “You’re welcome to stay, Randall. You don’t have to listen to him.”
Looking past Heady, Randall saw the look on Rudy Banatell’s face. He also saw the same grim looks on Orsen’s and Ernie’s faces. “I best go, Jim,” Randall said quietly. “These are dangerous men. You watch out for yourself.”
“I can see what they are, Randall,” Heady whispered, “but you heard what he said. He’s going to bring Jessup to me! They’re after the same thing we’re after!”
“You and these men have the same intentions in mind,” said Randall. “But I can’t be a part of it.”
“We both want Jessup dead,” said Heady, whispering. “Stick with me. These men will help us. We’ll get your wife back. I promise you.”
“No,” said Randall. “You go on with them if that’s what you need to do. I got to go it on my own.” He reached for the door knob.
“You’re still my friend, Randall,” Heady said. “I’m not forgetting what you done for me.”
“You’re still mine, too, Jim,” Randall replied without turning to face him.
When the door closed and Heady turned back around, he saw Rudy let out a long stream of smoke from his cigar and smile at him. “All right. Now that you and your friend have parted company, let’s talk some serious business about that whip-swinging preacher. You really will kill him, won’t you, if I go to all the trouble of setting him up?” Rudy asked.
“I swear on my mother’s grave!” said Heady. “Just help me get him in my sights.”
“Good enough.” Rudy nodded in satisfaction. “The way I figure it, Jessup never goes around without his two big bodyguards. It’ll be me and the boys’ jobs to get them covered. So when you make your move, they won’t be able to do anything to stop you.”
“How will you manage that?” Heady asked.
Rudy grinned and narrowed his gaze. “You let me worry about that. Just make sure when you come in…you come in shooting.” He nudged Heady with his elbow and nodded toward the door. “Now come on. I’ll tell you more about it upstairs, while we get you into a clean shirt.…”
Out front of the hotel the Gun continued to pace back and forth restlessly while Rudy, Orsen and Ernie accompanied Jim Heady to their room upstairs, found him a clean shirt, and helped him slip it on carefully over his pain-racked back. As Heady stiffly buttoned the shirt, Rudy continued to tell him how he planned to meet with Jessup in the bank office, and how he would arrange to have Heady waiting outside the rear door.
But before Rudy could finish telling Heady his entire plan, from the street below, the Gun let out a short warning whistle that drew Rudy and the others to the open window.
“What the hell is this?” Orsen murmured, the three of them peering out the window, gazing off in the direction the Gun pointed them to. On the street at the far end of town, CC Ellis rode the big silver stallion slowly alongside a buckboard driven by Callie Mosely.
Rudy’s eyes narrowed; a grin came to his face. “I’ll be double-dog damned,” he said, his eyes fixing on Callie and staying there. “Look who’s riding beside him! Sloane Mosely’s wife!”
“Jesus!” said Orsen. “That woman is a looker!”
“A looker hell!” Rudy said almost breathlessly. “Boys, that is pure honey still warm in the cone!”
“You wouldn’t say that if Sloane was around,” Ernie chuckled.
“I wouldn’t say it if I thought he was within a hundred miles,” Rudy chuckled in reply. “But he ain’t. And it ain’t likely he ever will be.” His gaze went back to CC Ellis, who rode along watching the boardwalk and storefronts. Chuckling again, Rudy said, “I swear, Paradise gets more and more interesting every minute we’re here.”
“What do you suppose CC’s up to?” Ernie Harpe asked, hovering near Rudy’s shoulder.
“Damned if I know,” said Rudy. “But knowing CC, I bet it’s going to be worth listening to.” He turned away from the window, crossed the floor quickly and headed out the door toward the stairs.
“Hey! Where’s everybody going?” Jim Heady asked, one hand stuffing his shirttails inside his trousers. “What about the plan?”
“I’ll tell you later,” said Rudy over his shoulder. “Hurry up and join us once you’ve found yourself.”
On the street, Callie and Dillard sat in the buckboard seat, Tic the hound sittingin the plank bed behind them. Passing the meetinghouse Callie cut her eyes sidelong toward the open door, then said quietly to CC Ellis, who was riding the stallion close beside her, “Well, I suppose there’s no turning back now.”
“You’re going to do just fine,” Ellis assured her. “Just remember everything we talked about. Stick to our story. I’ll do most of the talking when the time comes.” He smiled and touched his hat brim courteously toward two women who looked their way. But then his smile melted away as he caught sight of Rudy Banatell and the others standing alongside the street twenty yards ahead of him.
“Well, well,” Rudy said to the others, seeing the expression change on Ellis’s face, “looks like we’ve caught our ol’ pard unawares.” He jerked his head sidelong gesturing for Ellis to meet him in an alley beside the mercantile.
“What’s going on?” Callie asked, catching sight of the four men and noting the effect they seemed to have on Ellis.
“Nothing, Callie, just some men I know. Stay calm. This doesn’t change anything.” He turned the stallion to the hitch rail out front of the mercantile. Callie turned the buckboard, following him.
“Are you sure about that, CC?” Callie asked, watching him step down and hitch the big stallion.
Ellis grimaced slightly. “It’s Sloane, remember?” he said in a hushed tone, reaching up to give her a hand as she stopped the buckboard, set the brake and wrapped the reins around the brake handle.
“Yes, I remember,” she replied, shooting a nervous glance back and forth as if worried that someone might have heard her. “It won’t happen again, I promise.” She stepped down, allowing CC to assist her.
“I trust you,” Ellis said, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. “You and Dillard go on inside and get the supplies,” he added. “I’ll go speak to these men and come right back.”
From the buckboard seat Dillard asked with a concerned look, “Mother, is everything all right?” He bounded down from the seat and stood looking up at her.
“Yes, Dillard, everything is fine,” Callie replied, turning to him as Ellis walked away toward the alley. “Just remember what we decided to tell folks in Paradise.” Her voice became secretive.
“Don’t worry, Mother,” Dillard responded in the same tone. “I won’t forget that Mr. Ellis is supposed to be Father.”
Callie smiled at her son and brushed a hand across his forehead. “I know I can count on you. Now make certain that’s the last time you call him Mr. Ellis while we’re here.”
At the corner of the alley, CC Ellis gave a quick glance over his shoulder. Seeing Callie and Dillard walk into the mercantile store, he stepped down from the boardwalk and followed Rudy and the others a few feet farther back into the alley. They turned and faced him, Rudy giving him a strange look.
