Mackey watched Old Wilkes set his broom aside and go into the saloon. He knew a lecture was coming and tried to delay it for as long as possible. “I can remember a lot of other people who’ve owned this place, but I can’t remember a time when Old Wilkes didn’t work here.”
“Don’t try to distract me.” She nodded at the chair across from her. “You’d better sit down before you fall down, Aaron. You look awfully tired.”
He would’ve liked nothing more than to sit beside her, but such familiarity between the married sheriff and the rich widow would’ve only given more grits for the town rumor mill. Mackey split the difference and leaned against the porch post instead. Now that Wilkes was out of earshot, he could at least drop the verbal formalities. “I’ll be fine, Kate. I always am.”
“And you’re always working, too. That’s why I know you’re here in an official capacity.”
“You do?” He suddenly felt playful. “Guess you’ve added fortune telling to your long list of charms.”
“One doesn’t need to be a mystic to hear what people are saying, Aaron. I’ve heard that foolish rumor that the men you killed were drinking here before they went over to the Tin Horn. I knew either you or Billy would be coming over to ask about it yourself before long.” A bit of her smile returned. “I’m very glad it was you.”
He could’ve looked at that smile all day, but she was right. He was here on business. “Were they here, Kate?”
“They stopped here,” she admitted, “but Wilkes thought they looked too rough for our kind of crowd, so he refused to serve them. He wouldn’t allow them to gamble at the tables, either. But, seeing as how their money’s as good as anyone’s, he did sell each of them a bottle of whiskey and sent them on their way. Last he saw of them, they were headed down to Madden’s corral to drink in private.”
If he’d been talking to someone else, he would’ve asked more questions. Most people didn’t like to give up the truth easily, but Katherine wasn’t most people. She’d never lied to him before, not even when she’d told him he was the love of her life all those years ago.
Like most rumors, there was a kernel of truth to it, but not enough to lay blame on Katherine or Wilkes and he was glad of it. “They say where they were from or where they were headed?”
“We didn’t have the occasion to get that familiar, Aaron. They left after they paid for their whiskey. Next thing we heard, they were causing trouble up at the Tin Horn, and I knew they weren’t long for this world. Not when you got wind of their hell-raising.”
Maybe it was the sickness or his raw nerves from sparring with Mason and Doc Ridley most of the afternoon, but Mackey didn’t know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult. “Billy and I gave those dumb bastards every chance to surrender, but they chose different. We . . .”
A deep chill coursed through him as he sagged against the porch post, and sweat broke out all over his body. She went to help him but he motioned for her to stay where she was. The town gossips had already seen them talking, an event that would set their tongues wagging for days and cause even more trouble for him with Mary. The shootings had already given them enough material. He saw no need to add to it.
She didn’t get up, but leaned closer toward him. “Please sit, or we’ll go inside where we can talk alone. You look about dead on your feet, my love.”
Mackey wiped at his sweat with the back of his hand. “You and me walking inside together? Head upstairs to your room, maybe? Set this town’s tongues wagging for years if we did that.”
“You can always use the staircase around back.” She was quiet for a second longer than she needed to be. “You’ve used it before.”
He felt himself blush. He didn’t know if it was from the fever or the memory of those times. “That was different. Things weren’t like this.”
“You mean the shootings?” she asked. “Why? You’ve put down men like them before.”
“I know, but there’s something different about this.” He blinked away his growing dizziness and looked up Front Street. “Something different about those men. Men like that usually travel hard and usually travel in packs.”
“The dead are dead, Aaron. Leave them to God and take care of yourself. You look ready to fall down if you don’t get some rest, my love. Please go around back and go up to my bed. I’ll stay down here so no one talks, I promise. I know Mary won’t let you come home while you’re sick, and you’ll never get better sleeping in that drafty old jail all by yourself with no one to take care of you.”
“I’m not alone. Got Billy with me.”
She sat back in the chair and allowed the wrap around her shoulders to fall open. She was fully clothed underneath, but her dress showed the vaguest outlines of her body; enough for him to remember what she looked like. “You’re saying Billy’s better company than me?”
Mackey took his time looking away from her. “No, no he isn’t. But I’ve got to handle this shooting until it’s settled, and I can’t do that from bed. Yours or anyone else’s.”
She sat back in her rocker and looked up Front Street as well. “That’s funny. I can recall us settling quite a bit together in my bed.”
He felt himself get flush again. This time, it wasn’t the pneumonia. “Yeah. That’s my recollection, too.”
She hid a smile as she put a hint of Bostonian aristocrat in her voice. “Why Sheriff Mackey, is that a blush I see on your pallor?”
“Just the fever.” For the sake of his own dignity, he changed the subject. “You going to Pappy’s dance tomorrow night? I hear the mayor’s putting on quite a show for some New York types. Organized himself a welcoming committee down at the station as we speak.”
She laughed in that way that always warmed him. “So I’ve heard. I’m sorry I’ll have to miss both events. I’d like to see Mayor Mason’s attempts at impressing Frazer.”
Mackey caught that. “You know Mr. Rice?”
“Our paths crossed in various social settings back east.” She looked at Mackey and smiled. “You’re jealous. My, first you blush and now you’re jealous. So much emotion in one day. I could be mistaken for believing you’re actually a human being.”
“Knock it off, Katie.”
He was glad she did. “Mr. Rice is not one for social graces and he won’t be impressed by a bunch of eager townspeople at the station or a room full of old soldiers in faded uniforms, either. Ledgers make him swoon, not waltzes. I’d love to watch Mason make a fool of himself trying to impress him, but alas, duty calls.”
“What duty?”
“One of the girls out at Hill House is close to term. The pious Doctor Ridley won’t help a fallen woman give birth, so I’ll have the honors of bringing the child into this world. The old hypocrite has no problem tending to Warren’s whores at the Tin Horn but won’t help an unfortunate girl on the outskirts of town.”
Hill House was a brothel on the outskirts of town where the respectable men of Dover Station enjoyed the company of women far from the prying eyes of their wives in town.
“Warren pays Doc for his services. The Hill House girls either don’t or can’t. I’m not defending it, just explaining it.”
“Doesn’t make it right.” She took a breath as she regained her composure. “Will you be going or continuing your silent protest for another year?”
“No protest, Katie. Just not going.”
“What a shame. You cut quite a figure in a uniform, Captain Mackey.”
He felt himself blush again. “That was a long time ago, Mrs. Campbell. Went to one gala in my dress uniform. Don’t see how this one could top it, so I figured it best to quit while I’m ahead.”
Mackey couldn’t be sure, but he thought she looked pleased to hear that. He knew that after her husband died, she had decided to leave Boston and her widowhood behind to join Aaron in her new life. She had used her contacts to find out he had been discharged from the cavalry and returned home to Dover Station. She decided to follow him there without invitation or warning.
<
br /> But by the time she had arrived in town unannounced, Aaron had already been unhappily married for almost a year. Another woman might have asked him to leave her, but not Katherine. All she had asked was that he didn’t ask her to leave. He didn’t. The near distance between them made life easier for them both to bear.
“Which one did most of the shooting?” she asked. “You or Billy? I know you boys keep score of such things.”
“We each got two a piece, but only managed to wing the fat man before he dove behind a trough. Fat bastard was a spry one. Sim came out of the Tin Horn and finished him off for us.”
“Sim’s a good man.”
“Yes he is,” Mackey said.
Her expression changed. “He’ll probably help bury you after that bitch you’re married to lets you die in that drafty old jail.”
Mackey had been waiting for her to run down his wife, and she didn’t disappoint. He didn’t defend her, either. “Mary’s a peculiar woman. More peculiar than I knew at first.” He kept looking up Front Street. He didn’t dare allow himself to look at her. “Guess I didn’t realize a lot of things back then. Wish I had.”
Katherine kept looking up Front Street, too. “It’s not too late, Aaron. You’re no more married than I am. We’re both wedded to corpses. Only difference is that yours is still aboveground.”
She surprised him by grabbing his hand and held it against the side of her face. He was glad the crowd on the boardwalks had thinned out a bit. Her face was soft and smooth and cool. Mary’s skin had always been dry and rough.
“God, you’re burning up,” she said. “And you’ll only get worse unless you let someone take care of you.”
He didn’t want to, but he slowly eased his hand away. He hoped none of the gossipmongers saw her do that. “No reason for you to get sick, too. Besides, I’ll be fine in a day or so.”
“It’s already been a month, and you’re worse now than you were before. Mary can’t take care of you because she resents you for not being the man she’d dreamed you to be. That’s the difference between us, Aaron. She fell in love with a myth in a uniform. I fell in love with the man wearing it.”
Mackey hated it when she said things like that. Not because it wasn’t true, but because it made him want to forget about his wife and his duty and his responsibility to the town that had been his home for his entire life.
She went back to looking up Front Street. “I love you, Aaron Mackey. I love you enough to wait for you no matter how long it takes because I know we are meant to be together one way or the other.”
She had said things like that before, and he had always found a way to avoid answering her. But on that day, he was too tired to avoid an answer. The pneumonia and events of the afternoon had left him too weak to care about the consequences of agreeing with her. Maybe he’d been tied to his duties too long. It seemed the longer he was sheriff, the more the townspeople hated him. The more people like Frazer Rice came into town, the more they would grow to resent him. The wealthy New Yorker represented riches and the future they clung to. Mackey only reminded them of their past they wanted to forget.
He could take their resentment, but had reached a point in his life where he wondered why he should have to. And why he should not agree with Katherine’s ideas.
But all thoughts of love and the present escaped him when he saw Billy Sunday riding at a slow trot down Front Street. He was trailing Aaron’s horse on a lead rope, a black mare he had named Adair after the Arizona town where he had found her. Anyone who knew horses could see she had the powerful, exotic look of the Arabian breed about her.
Adair strained against the lead rope as soon as she saw Mackey. Billy let the rope go and she trotted over to the boardwalk, knocking Mackey back a bit as she nuzzled into him. It had been more than a week since he had seen her and this visit did both of them good.
Katherine said, “At least you show affection for one female in this town.” Before he could answer, she greeted Billy. “Good to see you, Billy.”
The deputy smiled. He knew their history, but observed formalities by touching the brim of his hat by way of a proper greeting. “Afternoon, Mrs. Campbell. Thanks for keeping an eye on the sheriff for me. As you know, he’s a most stubborn son of a bitch and refuses bed rest.”
“A fact of which I am well aware, deputy,” she said, “but as you know, the sheriff isn’t a man to let something as trivial as pneumonia keep him from performing his sacred public duties.”
For the horse’s sake, Aaron kept his voice calm. “And as both of you know, I’m standing right here, goddamn it.” Adair moved her head to his other shoulder. “You’re supposed to be up at the Horn taking statements from the witnesses.”
“Finished a little while ago,” Billy said. “Pappy found me and said you were in no condition for walking. Figured I’d better bring Adair around for you to ride back to the jail, seeing as how weak you were. Carrying your sorry ass back to the jailhouse in front of the whole town would be an affront to your public persona of being indestructible.”
Katherine giggled.
Mackey didn’t. “You weren’t this insubordinate in Arizona.”
“You were a captain then. Listened to reason, too. Besides, riding Adair will do her as much good as you. Old girl’s been cooped up in the livery all week. Horse like that needs some exercise.”
“She’s not old,” Mackey stroked her as the mare nuzzled into him again. “Plenty of good miles ahead of her. In me, too.”
“That’s good to hear because you’re going to need them and right soon.”
Mackey stopped stroking the horse. “What’s wrong?”
“I got word that Jeb Taylor’s on his way into town. Supposedly has ten hands with him. Maybe more.”
Mackey rested his head against Adair’s neck. With the shootings that afternoon and the mayor on his back, the last thing he needed was the hotheaded owner of the town’s largest ranch making one of his grandstanding scenes in the middle of Front Street. “Why doesn’t that crazy bastard just stay up on his ranch and leave people the hell alone?”
“Because he heard about the men we killed today. Just so happens that Jeb found himself a few ranch hands short at this morning’s count. Seems to think some of those men we killed at the Horn just might be from his ranch.”
“Lucky me.” From the boardwalk, Mackey slid his boot into the stirrup and pulled himself up into the saddle. He was glad for the added height of the boardwalk, because he didn’t think he would have mounted so cleanly otherwise. He fought a wave of dizziness as he asked, “Those boys working at Taylor’s ranch would explain the lack of gear and saddlebags, wouldn’t it?”
Katherine tried to help. “But if they worked for Taylor, wouldn’t someone at the Tin Horn have recognized them? Taylor’s men are always in there.”
“Probably,” Billy admitted. “But there’s no way of convincing Taylor of that before he gets here. And he’ll be getting here around the same time as the train carrying the mayor’s dignitaries is due.”
“Best if we try to catch him on the trail before he reaches town. I’m in no mood to let him shoot off his goddamned mouth in front of the whole town.”
Mackey felt Katherine looking at him. He saw the concern in her eyes, so he touched the brim of his hat. “Afternoon, Mrs. Campbell, and thank you for the information.”
She gave him a polite smile. Back to formalities, even in front of Billy. “Afternoon, Sheriff Mackey. Hope you’ll be able to stop by for another visit, and soon.” She looked at Billy. “Take care of him, deputy. He’s not much, but he’s all the sheriff we’ve got.”
Mackey brought Adair around and rode away.
Billy smiled as he tipped his hat, too, before joining Mackey on Front Street.
Chapter 6
Mackey allowed Adair to move along at her own pace up Front Street toward the jailhouse. He saw no reason to hurry and believed the jail at the edge of town might be the best place to meet Taylor and his men. If the official surroun
dings didn’t cool the rancher’s temper, then cramped conditions might. Taylor never went anywhere alone and could only get four or five of his men in the small building at a time.
Mackey had another reason for heading back to the jail—he needed to sit down. The idea of being in his rocking chair was an inviting one. The effort of climbing up into the saddle had weakened him more than he wanted to admit, but now that he was riding, he had begun to feel better, despite the fatigue. Climbing down would probably take even more out of him, but he would worry about that when the time came. For now, he had a good horse beneath him and a destination in mind. Such clarity was good for his soul.
Billy brought up his horse next to Mackey. “What do you plan on doing when Mr. Taylor hits town.”
“Meet him head-on like I always do. At the jail if there’s time, but anywhere will do. He’ll want to mouth off in a public setting, so that’s where I’ll meet him.”
“Just you against him and his men?”
“Yeah. And you somewhere close by. You covering me with that Sharps gives me all the edge I’ll need against Taylor.”
“Sometimes, I think you take me for granted.”
“No, I don’t.”
Billy didn’t argue.
They had only gotten about a quarter of the way up Front Street when Jeb Taylor and ten of his men rounded the corner into town. The owner of the largest ranch in the territory signaled his men to fan out along Front Street, so they rode five on either side of him with the rancher out front. The entire party stretched the width of the thoroughfare, presenting an impressive display of force. Mackey knew that was the point.
It looked like his rocking chair would have to wait.
Mackey didn’t need to tell Billy what to do next. They had lived through enough encounters like this to know how to handle them. Billy edged his mount over to the nearest hitching post and tied her off. Mackey knew he’d slip his Sharps from the saddle scabbard and slowly make his way along the boardwalk up Front Street, covering him from a doorway or an alley while Mackey met Taylor head on. A Sharps was a powerful weapon in the hands of someone who knew how to use it. Billy had a fine eye and a steady hand. He didn’t need to be too close to cover him properly.
Where the Bullets Fly Page 5
