by Cameron Judd
“I’m sorry you find I’m doing so poor a job,” Luke mumbled, eyes darting, looking for any pretext for escape.
“I think you’ve done quite well, under the circumstances, abandoned as you were by your superior.”
Luke found no response. The woman had just voiced a statement he’d made in his own mind many times, usually in a mood of mounting resentment toward Ben Keely, the town marshal who had left him in charge of Wiles law enforcement while Ben himself left for Kentucky to pay his last respects to his late father.
Movement on the hotel porch across the street caught Luke’s eye. For the first time in his life he had the experience of being glad to see Dewitt Stamps, who was just emerging from the hotel lobby, bearing the old Bible that he always had with him these days. “Ma’am, I got to take my leave now…somebody over there I need to talk to.”
Clara Ashworth followed the direction of Luke’s gaze. “Him…Stamps? That worthless drunkard?”
Luke had already stepped away, but those words stopped him. He turned and glared at the woman. “Mrs. Ashworth, Dewitt Stamps was a drunkard once, but he hasn’t been one for a good while now. He ain’t had a drink in three years or more that I know of.”
“Pshaw!” the woman said. “A drunkard is a drunkard forever.”
“Unless he turns away from it,” Luke returned. “Dewitt’s a man of faith now. As a churchwoman, you ought to be applauding the man and calling him your Christian brother.”
The woman looked disgusted. “I’ve got no use for a drunkard, and whatever kind of religion he may claim, he isn’t any ‘brother’ of mine.”
Luke nodded and muttered, “I think I can believe that, Mrs. Ashworth.” He went on, glad to leave the self-righteous biddy behind, looking down her nose at his departing form.
“Howdy, Dewitt,” Luke called as he neared Dewitt. Dewitt merely grunted softly in reply.
“Why so downcast?” Luke asked. “You feeling all right?”
“Oh, I’m well enough, I reckon. Just discouraged about the durned human race, that’s all.”
Luke glanced back across the street, watching Mrs. Ashworth walking along haughtily, heading up the street toward her big three-story house. “I know the feeling,” he said.
“What brung you over to see me?” Dewitt asked. “When I looked up and seen you coming, it took me back to the old days when you used to arrest me for being drunk. When I seen you coming toward me in those days, it was time to run. But I was always too drunk to do it. You remember that time I ran into a wall trying to get away from you?”
“Yeah, but those days are past now, Dewitt. You’re the soberest man in Kansas nowadays.”
“Yeah, I am. And I’m proud of it. But I guess pride is its own kind of sin. Do you think it’s just as sinful for me to be proud of not drinking as it was for me to actually be drinking back in the old days?”
“I don’t think so.”
“But ain’t pride a sin?”
Luke hadn’t darkened the door of a church in nearly a decade, and held little by way of theological opinions. But from somewhere a burst of wisdom came and he found an answer for Dewitt.
He glanced back toward the spot where he’d stood while talking to Clara Ashworth. “There’s different kinds of pride, I think, one sinful and one not. The kind of pride that involves being better in your own mind than other people, that’s the sinful kind.”
“What’s the other kind?”
“Let me answer you this way. Do you think God is proud of you for not drinking?”
“Well…yes. I do.”
“Then if you ain’t proud of yourself, too, it’s kind of like telling God he’s wrong. You see? What you think of yourself ought to match up with what the Lord thinks of you, oughtn’t it?”
Dewitt frowned, mulling it over. His face brightened. “You’re right, Luke. Right as rain! Thank you!”
Luke grinned and winked. “Who knows, Dewitt? I might make a preacher yet.”
Dewitt laughed freely at the mental picture of Luke behind a pulpit.
“Hey, I might make a fine preacher,” Luke said, feigning offense.
Dewitt put away his smile and nodded. “So you might, Luke Cable. I’m sorry for laughing. Who am I to laugh at the notion of God changing folks’ lives, after what’s happened to me? If you’ve got the calling, you should heed it.”
“Dewitt, truth is I don’t feel called to nothing except the breakfast table. I got my pay yesterday. I’d like to invite you to sit down and have breakfast with me over at the Taylor Café. I’ll buy. And you can tell me why it is you’re feeling down and low about the human race.”
“You ain’t got to buy me no meal, Luke.”
“I know. But I made the offer and would be happy if you’d take it. It’ll give me the chance to talk to you a bit.”
“Well, I will. You’re a good man, Luke Cable.”
“I try.”
A good meal was something that lifelong impoverished bachelor Dewitt Stamps seldom received, and he ate with such an intense concentration and seriousness that Luke struggled not to grin.
“This is prime, Luke. Prime!”
“Glad you like it, Dewitt. Now tell me what you were mulling over when I come upon you out there.”
Dewitt sighed. “Luke, why would anybody want to see somebody like me fall back into the wrong kind of life?”
“What do you mean?”
Dewitt shared the story of Jimmy Wills’s attempts to tempt him with whiskey. “Why’d he do that, Luke? Why would he want to see me go wrong?”
“Jimmy’s young, and he’s a fool. I don’t know what else to say. Makes me mad as hell that he’d do that.”
“It ain’t right. People ought to want good things for other folk.”
Luke replied, “Yeah. But a lot don’t.” He was thinking of Clara Ashworth. “Did you take the drink?”
“I didn’t. I stood up against the temptation and he finally went and tossed the whiskey out the door. I won that round. Me and the Lord. But there’s a lot of wickedness in this world, and it discourages me,” Dewitt said. “It’s good that there’s folks like you who are willing to fight it.”
“I don’t know if it’s worth it sometimes, Dewitt. I’m not sure I’d have agreed to fill in for Ben Keely if I’d known it would be so hard and he’d be gone so long. I wake up every day wondering who’s going to get drunk and hit some other gent, or beat up on his wife, or break something at the saloon. Or who might get shot, or take a shot at me. And all for such a little bit of money that it strains me just to be able to buy a meal or two from time to time. If I’d known, I’d have told Ben Keely to find somebody else to fill in for him while he went traipsing to Kentucky.”
“Well, you should have knowed how it would be, having been his deputy before.”
“I suppose. But one thing I couldn’t have known was how long he’d be gone. Ben was supposed to have been back more than a month ago. But I ain’t heard the first word from him, and have no notion what’s keeping him from coming back. I agreed to serve as acting marshal for a set time, and that time’s well past now. By all rights I should be free to quit, but that would leave the town with no peace officer, and I can’t do that.”
“You know why I figure he ain’t come back? Teke Blevins making them threats against him.”
“Nah. Not Ben. He’s no coward.”
“Teke got out the word that he was going to kill Ben. And Teke is a man to be taken serious.”
“The fact remains that Ben wouldn’t flee this town just because of threats. I know him too well to believe that.” Luke shifted in his chair, restless. “But I wish whatever is keeping him from coming back would go away. I’m ready to leave this marshaling business behind. I’m disappointed in myself, Dewitt. For a long time I thought I’d be a fine peace officer, but more and more I find myself wishing I was doing anything else but this job. I want to quit. I want to say good-bye to all this, head over to Ellsworth, and ask Sally James to marry me.”
&
nbsp; “Maybe you ought to do that. The county sheriff. He could take over for you, couldn’t he? Whether Ben is back or not? I mean, Wiles is in his county, even if he don’t work for the town. The people here are still citizens of Wiles County.”
“Yeah, but you know as well as me that he’s never paid much attention to the town. Since Wiles has its own law enforcers, he gives his attention to the rest of the county.”
“Well, if Wiles quit having its own marshal, maybe he’d have a different way of looking at it.” Dewitt stared at the tabletop. “I wish I could help you out somehow, Luke.”
“Maybe you can.”
Dewitt looked up. “Me? How?”
Luke had his own round of tabletop staring for a moment. He’d brought Dewitt here in order to bring up this very subject, but now that he’d done so he wondered if he’d thought it through sufficiently. Didn’t matter. He’d opened the door and now he had to step through.
“Truth is, Dewitt, I need some help in the jail.”
“Don’t Hank McAdams help you already?”
“Hank only works a few hours a week, and lately his mother’s been so sickly he’s had to spend most his time taking care of her, and he misses a lot of time. Most times it don’t make much difference. This is a calm town, typically, and usually one man is enough to handle what comes up. But sometimes I get into a bad situation when I’ve got somebody locked up at the jail. You can’t just leave prisoners by theirselves, not for long, anyway. But when I’m down in the jail office nursemaiding some old drunk, I can’t be out in town looking out for the town.”
“You need a jailer,” said Dewitt. “Somebody to watch the jail so you and Hank can be out taking care of the people.”
“Exactly,” Luke replied. “So what do you say, Dewitt? You want the job?”
Dewitt’s eyes widened. “Me?”
“You see anybody else at this table I could be asking?”
“But, Luke, I…I got a job.”
“Washing down horses at Baxter’s Livery ain’t the best of jobs, my friend.”
“No…but it’s one I’ve done for a long time now. And Mr. Baxter’s been good to me. Lets me live in that room in the livery loft.”
“That loft is a shabby place, Dewitt. And Mr. Baxter’s been good to you because he figures the town drunk is the only person who’d be willing to work that job for what little it pays. And it’s a job you could do about as well drunk as sober, so you were a good fit.”
“That’s all past now, Luke. I don’t get drunk no more.”
“No. But you’re still living in a shack like you did before, and I doubt Baxter’s paying you any more than he did before just because you’ve gone sober. I’m offering you something better. A little more pay, and you can live in that little house out behind the jail. That’s part of the jail property, you know. It’s not much, but it’s better than that drafty livery room, and you’ll be doing work that’s got some dignity to it. You’ll work for the city, just like I do. You’ll have a title: Deputy Jailer.”
All this seemed more than Dewitt could absorb. He looked at Luke as if the man had just sprouted wings and begun speaking the language of angels. “Luke, you really got the power to do that? I mean, right now you’re the acting marshal, but that ain’t the same as being the real marshal, like Ben Keely. What if the town won’t let you hire me? What if they say I’m just a sorry old drunk not fit for the job?”
“Then I’d say back to them that you’re not a drunk anymore, that even when you were a drunk you still did good work at the livery and proved yourself reliable, and that if they won’t give me the help I need to do my own job, they can find themselves somebody else to fill in for Ben Keely.”
“You’d do that?”
“I would.”
“Bless your heart, Luke Cable! You’re a blessing of God to this old sinner.”
“Dewitt, that might be the finest compliment I’ve ever been given. You want that coffee warmed up? Mine’s getting a little cold.”
He lifted a hand and signaled for the waiter. Dewitt just sat grinning at him, eyes moist with tears of gratitude.
It was then that Luke began to worry. What if Dewitt had a point about the town leaders? What if they declined his bid to hire a deputy jailer? Especially one with as unpolished a past as Dewitt Stamps’s?
If they balked, would Luke really walk away from his job?
He watched as the waiter refilled his cup, then turned his eyes to the window and stared across the street beyond.
Come back, Ben, he mentally pleaded. Come back and start doing your job again, so I can quit doing it for you.
CHAPTER THREE
That evening, Luke Cable strode along the Jones Street boardwalk with Henry Myers, mayor of Wiles. He’d encountered Myers randomly, and the chance meeting had given him the opportunity he needed to discuss the prospects he’d discussed over breakfast with Dewitt Stamps.
“Dewitt, huh?” Myers said. “Well, that’s not a name I’d have expected to hear put forth for a position in law enforcement. Not two or three years ago, anyway.”
“I know exactly what you mean. Dewitt used to be no end of trouble to Ben and me. Had to lock him up two, three times a week sometimes. But the man seems to have honest-to-God reformed himself.”
“Do you truly believe he can be trusted to oversee the jailing of men he used to drink with? Because there’ll be some of those. They might be able to talk him into being lax with them.”
Luke shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not anymore. Most of those who Dewitt used to drink with avoid him now. He’s quick to preach at them, you see. Try to push religion on them. They don’t much like that. Having Dewitt oversee the jail is likely to make the jail a place they strongly want to avoid. Can you imagine being an old drunk, locked up in a cage with Dewitt Stamps looking through the bars with that glaring eye of his, telling you how you need to get on the straight and narrow?”
The mayor pondered the image, grinned, then laughed. “A good point, Luke. Ha!”
“So I can hire him?”
“At the pay rate we discussed, yes. Keeping in mind that Ben Keely might not wish to perpetuate that hire when he returns. The town would have to take his views into account. Assuming, that is, that Ben would be allowed to continue as marshal.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Luke, when Ben left, it was under a clear and written understanding that he would be gone for only a limited time, then would return to full duties. He has violated that agreement and has not even made contact by letter or wire to explain his circumstances or his intentions. Though I think the world of Ben and am inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt, most on the town council are past their limit of patience. They are pleased with the job you’ve been doing in Ben’s stead, and I think Ben, when he returns, will find himself hard-pressed to find favor on the council for the idea of him continuing as town marshal. Unless he can provide a compelling explanation for his negligence.”
“So does this mean I might be in line to have this marshaling job permanent?”
“A likely possibility. If you’ll have it.”
“I’d have to give it thought. It’s a task that drains a man of his energy and spirit. And the pay ain’t good. Even with me drawing the full marshal’s pay during Ben’s absence, it’s been nothing to put much into my pocket. Not that I ain’t grateful for the opportunity. Don’t take me wrong on that.”
Myers had grown serious. “Luke, let me ask you something, since we’re in a private setting here. I hate even raising this kind of question, but I must: do you believe that Ben Keely is still alive?”
Luke stopped walking and faced the mayor. Both men glanced about to ensure that they were out of earshot of anyone else on the street. “The thought has crossed my mind that something could have happened to Ben,” Luke said. “It just ain’t in Ben’s character to neglect his duties and just run off, without a word. And besides, I know for a fact he wasn’t inclined to stay back home in Kentuc
ky. It was hard for him even to get up the will to go back at all, even with his father dying and all. Problems in his family, you see. He’s got a sister he’s estranged from, and with his parents both dead and gone, she’s all that’s left for him back home, and I doubt he’d stay because of her. If you’d asked me, I’d have predicted he’d come back sooner than planned, not later.”
“The question now is whether he will come back at all. I was aware of this sister you talk about. In fact, when Ben failed to return on schedule, I wired the rail station in his Kentucky town, trying to get a message to Ben, if he’s still there, or his sister. Bess, I think her name is.”
“What was the reply?” asked Luke.
“No reply at all from Ben or his sister either one. The only reply I got came from the key operator himself. He knew the family. You know how it is in small places like that. Anyhow, he told me that Ben had been there, sure enough, but wasn’t there any longer. He’d headed back here to Kansas, apparently.”
“If he did, he never got here. Or never showed himself here, anyway. I have to wonder if that key operator knew what he was talking about.”
“I have the same question. And along with it, a bad feeling I can’t shake off. Something just feels wrong, you know. Ben just isn’t the kind to vanish and not let anybody know what’s going on. As loco as it sounds to say it out loud, I’ve caught myself wondering if that sister of his maybe has done him in.”
“Were things that bad with the two of them?”
Myers sighed. “I think maybe so. As good friends as me and Ben have been, he never talked to me about her much. The subject always seemed to trouble him whenever it came up. He told me she was strange. That was his word for her. ‘Strange.’ Said she shamed the family and her parents and hurt her own reputation by her ways.”
“Wayward woman?”
“He never said it outright. But I suppose yes. That was the only interpretation I could attach to his words, anyway.”
“Even then, though, that wouldn’t mean she’d be the kind to kill her own brother. Hell, we don’t even know he’s dead, so we don’t know that anybody killed him.”
