They remained embraced for a good while, until finally, Dolly pulled away and dug the heels of her hands against her eyes, pushing the tears away as best she could. “You got that right, Lida,” she said resolutely, and sniffled. “It’s not the end of everything. In fact, from where I’m seeing things, it’s just the beginning.”
Lida frowned questioningly, “What’dya mean, child?”
“I mean that...”
Dolly told her the story of what had befallen her and her father, leaving nothing out. In a strange way, it did her heart good to talk about it. During her account of the ordeal, she had climbed into the tub and had begun using the washcloth to cleanse away the tears whenever the need arose.
“You sure nuf got yerself a tolerable cross ta bear, Miss Dolly,” Lida said as she stood with fists perched atop her hips, while slowly shaking her head with dismay. “If it’d been me, I don’t know what I’d do. No suh, I surely don’t.”
Dolly lay in the tub with her head laid back against the rim, cushioned by a small pillow kept handy for just that purpose. Her eyes remained closed, soaking in the soothing effects of the warm water. “I know what I’ll be doing,” she said, just above a whisper. “I’m gonna go after them three heathens and kill ’em!” she vowed resolutely.
“You cain’t do that, child. It ain’t right. The good Lord’ll surely frown down on ya if you was ta take one a his solemn commandments and rip it clean outta the Book. No suh. I’m of a mind that you might wanna be rethinkin’ ’bout what it is yer thinkin’ on doin’.”
Dolly opened her eyes and looked at the disbelieving woman. “Don’t you think that’s all I’ve done since it happened? No…even though I’ve always had a solid belief in God and the Bible, this is something that has to be done. Especially if my father dies.” The tears again threatened to show themselves so she reached up and pushed the pillow out from under her neck, allowing it to fall to the floor. She then slid down the inside of the tub, disappearing under the surface of the soapy water.
*
“Dang, girl! You look near human after all!” Nate said exuberantly, as Dolly appeared in the doorway at the rear of the cafe.
She smiled. “Thanks, Nate. I’m feeling a whole lot better, as well.”
“Well then, sit yerself down here and let’s get serious about bustin’ that gut.” He had placed a booted foot against the leg of the other chair, and with a slight kicking motion, scooted it away from the table.
As if the bath hadn’t been enough to turn the trick, the meal certainly was as it also served to reinforce her beliefs in what it felt like to be alive. She ate hungrily, stopping only for scant snatches between bites to gulp thirstily at the oversized glass of water as well as an occasional swallow of what she decided was pretty darn good coffee.
Once the meal had been dealt with, she and Nate enjoyed a bit of small talk about his apple farm that she learned was on the eastern edge of town. Well...not really right on the edge, but, according to him, was certainly within easy seeing distance if a gal was perched on her horse atop the small, grassy hill to the north.
They enjoyed the last of their coffees and rose to leave. Nate plunked six bits onto the table. They left the cafe and headed back to the barbershop, but not before Mister Johnny took note of the concern in Miss Lida’s eyes that was accompanied by a slight tilting of her head that he figured was most likely a sign for him to come back later on his own.
Chapter 4
The sound of the door closing brought Dolly out of her fitful sleep. She looked up from the barber’s chair into Nate’s smiling face.
“How’s he doin’?” he asked and motioned with a jutting chin toward the sleeping figure on the table.
Dolly looked that way, realizing that she really had no idea herself. “Seems to be resting easy enough,” she said, seeing her father’s chest slowly rising and falling, but with regularity. “Looks like he’s breathing comfortably.” She pushed her way up out of the chair and went to him. She placed a hand against his brow. “Seems a little on the warm side, though. He might have a bit of a fever.”
“Nestor go home to get something to eat, did he?”
She nodded. “Yeah. He said he’d only be a gone short while. I expect he’ll be back directly.”
Nate seemed to her to be overly concerned about something. “You look like a fella with something on his mind.”
“Yeah...well...yeah. Now that cha mention it, there is somethin’ eatin’ away at my innards.”
“And just what might that be...if you don’t mind my asking?”
“I don’t mind. That is if you don’t mind tellin’ me what all happened out there the other day.”
“What’dya mean?”
“I was just over to the cafe talkin’ with Miss Lida. She said you was all black ’n blue. Said there was things that went on out there that’d be better told by you rather than her. Said—”
Dolly had turned toward the window. The horrid memories again flooded her mind. She sucked in a breath of tenacity and turned to face him. “I truly do appreciate her keeping the confidence I’d placed in her. She’s a woman that could easily become my friend.” Dolly forced a smile. She realized a desire to confide in him as well. “The truth of the matter is that after those men shot my father they...they took advantage of me. I fought as best I could but there were too many of them.” She sniffled and pulled a well-used handkerchief from her hip pocket.
“That would certainly explain the black ’n blue marks. How are you handling the whole thing...the emotional side of it, I mean?”
Her bottom lip and chin quivered noticeably. “Not very well, I’m afraid.” She turned back toward the window. “I’ll manage though. I really don’t seem to have much choice.”
He crossed the room and placed his hands on her upper arms. “You seem to be a strong enough girl. I’m thinking you’ll make out alright.”
“Don’t bet on it. Leastways not until I get my payback.”
He gently turned her around to face him. The tears glistened on her cheeks. “What kinda payback? You ain’t thinkin’ about doin’ something stupid like goin’ after them, are ya?”
She rubbed a sleeve across her face. “Wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah...reckon I would, but that’s different.”
“Why so? Because you’re a man?”
“Well...yeah. In case you ain’t noticed, there’s a big difference between being a man an’ bein’ a woman.”
“Sometimes the differences might be more subtle than you might think,” she said, and rested her hand on the butt of her gun. “I wear this pistol because I know how to use it...leastways enough to protect me from snakes and varmints. By my way of thinking, that’s exactly what I’m up against. The only concern is that there’s gonna be three of ’em to deal with.”
Nate was at a loss. The realization that a woman as young and tender as this one appeared to be, would even consider riding out after three ruthless men without anymore than just a passable knowledge of the workings of a six-gun was beyond anything he could imagine. Yet, there was something in her eyes that said maybe she wasn’t as defenseless as he might think.
After a brief bit of wondering, he figured that it could only be determination rather than anything else. “You might wanna rethink yer way of thinkin’, Missy. Those fellas won’t be willing to give up their freedom and come peaceable. Might be more sensible if you was to just find yerself a marshal to go out an’ bring ’em in to face legal justice...wouldn’t you think?”
She didn’t hesitate, “You’d be right as rain about that, Nate...that is if legal justice was what I had in mind. No, this is more down the lines of moral justice. I’m gonna kill ’em!” she vowed flatly.
“But you can’t just—”
She bristled. “Don’t you stand there and tell me what I can and can’t do!” She gestured behind her with a jutting thumb. “That’s my father laying there all shot to pieces. Odds are he’s gonna die, or at the very least, he’ll never be
the same. Then there’s what they did to me. And I can assure you that I’ll never be the same.” She dug a tuft of shirtsleeve into first the corner of one eye then the other. “I’m fast approaching the point where I’m just about all cried out. Those degenerates took my accustomed way of life away from me...and not to mention other things that a woman holds sacred.” She pointed a finger at the tip of his nose for emphasis. “No…don’t you or anyone else, for even one minute, ever think that they have the right to tell me what I need to be doing to regain the self respect that was taken from me. I may not be the fastest with one of these,” she patted the holster on her hip, “but I’ll not rest easy until I at least try my very best to take care of what needs taking care of.”
They stood facing one another, her with unwavering defiance flashing in her suddenly intensely bluer eyes, and him with one hand rubbing the back of his neck.
“Peers to me like you got things all laid out.”
“That, Sir, would be an understatement of sorts.” She softened somewhat and smiled warmly. “I’m sorry to sound so hard. It’s just that—”
“Ain’t no need for you to be apoligizin’, Missy. What would make a whole lot more sense, though, would be that you need to get to the point where you got a better’n even chance against them three if ya ever was to find ’em.”
“Oh, I’ll find ’em alright...you can count on that.”
*
The rest of that day, as well as the next, were spent with her holding an unwavering vigil at her father’s side. She ate sparingly, and only when Lida showed up with a plate from time to time.
Jason faded in and out of consciousness, while being delirious most of the time.
Finally, just as the sun dipped below the crest of the grass-covered hill to the west, and with her holding his hand with tender hope, he smiled weakly into her misty eyes, closed his tiredly, and with a rush of air, breathed his last.
Dolly had long since prepared herself for that moment, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. Nate and Lida were a huge comfort to her, but nothing could ever replace the love and togetherness she had shared with her father.
He’d been her whole life after her mother had been taken by a debilitating cough that had spewed blood spots on her pillow more than once.
Shortly after Dolly and her father had ridden into Manzanola, and with Nate’s help, she had sent word to the ranch in Las Animas that he had been shot and was in a bad way. The ranch foreman, Walker Hendrix, and a couple of the hands had shown up shortly after Jason had died and were present the next morning when they had put him in the ground.
Dolly had been the last to leave the graveside and finally joined the others after having spent a good thirty minutes alone with him. That was to be the last time she would shed a tear over his untimely death or her own misfortune. From that moment on, Dorothy Randolph had not only steadfastly resolved herself to the grim task ahead, but also vowed to keep her judgment-clouding emotions bottled up inside her.
Against his protests, she turned over the complete running of the J Bar R to Walker. After convincing him that she had things to tend to and that he knew way more than she did about the workings of a cattle ranch, he agreed to the arrangement, leastways until she decided to show up and take it back. She then instructed him to set things up at the bank in Las Animas so that she would be able to acquire money whenever the need arose...from wherever she might be.
To her appreciation Walker gave her what cash he carried on him, which amounted to a sizeable thirteen dollars. The other two ranch hands with him also chipped in to the tune of an additional eight dollars. Walker had also come up with forty-seven dollars from her father’s pocket.
The sum total of sixty-eight dollars was surely enough to keep her afloat until she found a telegraph and a bank where she could have funds wired. Walker also offered to ride with her until the three varmints had been tracked down and given their due, but she wouldn’t hear of it.
After repeated unsuccessful attempts to get her to realize that nothing would bring Jason back, and that she would most likely just get herself killed for her troubles, Walker and the others reluctantly agreed to return to the ranch to look after her interests until she gave up her foolishness and came home. Her chest was filled with about a carpetbag full of mixed emotions as she and Nate stood together and watched them ride out of town.
“You know you probably shoulda went with them,” he said softly. “That’s what any sensible person woulda done.”
“Yeah, I know,” she breathed and turned to face him. “But I didn’t. So what now?”
Nate rubbed the back of his neck. She had come to realize that that was his way of deciding his next move.
“Well...I’d say the first thing you need to do would be to move outta that fleabag hotel and tote yer belongin’s on out to my farm.”
“I don’t have time for that. Those fellas need killing and the trail isn’t getting any fresher.”
“They’ll keep,” he said flatly. “You’d do best to spend some time with me,” he added and placed a comforting hand atop her shoulder. “Trust me. You just come on out to my farm and take good advantage of what I got ta give you.”
She frowned her skepticism. “And just what might that be? And how’s that gonna help me get ready to go after them that needs going after?”
“Well...mainly because if we was outta sight of most folks around here,” he waved at the air around them, “I’d be more apt to teach you the things you’ll be needin’ to stay alive while you do yer best to get yerself kilt.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Teach me what?”
“Why...how to draw that thing of course,” he said simply, and pointed in the direction of her six-gun.
“What do you know about drawing a pistol?”
He grinned shrewdly. “That, young lady, will be for you to find out.”
She made short work of gathering her things at the hotel, while he retrieved her buckskin and pa’s mare from the livery down at the far end of the street. He brought them to the front of the hotel where she was already waiting on the porch. Nate had also picked up his own horse from in front of the barbershop and was riding the slightly swaybacked mare as he approached, leading the others.
“Looks like that piece of crow bait has seen better days,” she said, grinning good-naturedly as he reined up.
“Ain’t we all,” he replied without taking offense as he returned the grin and offered the buckskin’s rein out to her.
She picked up her things while he remained seated. “Aren’t you even gonna help me load this stuff?”
“Nope. You got yerself into thinking like a man so I’m figgerin’ that’s exactly how I’ll be treatin’ ya. So just get yer backside in gear an’ get it done.”
She feigned a scowl up at him, but was secretly glad that he had taken that position. The scowl turned into a grin that she was able to effectively hide from him as she turned away and made short work of tying her possibles behind the mare’s saddle. Once she had her belongings all secured, she deftly swung up onto the buckskin, extended an inviting palm and said with guarded skepticism, “Lead off, gunfighter.”
He grinned.
*
The ride to Nate’s apple farm was indeed a short one, just as advertised. It was laid out in a picturesque little depression that she would later learn was the secret to his success to having the juiciest, most delicious apples anywhere around. The fact that it was below the water level of the Arkansas River, as it flowed lazily along the southern boundary of his orchards, allowed him the convenience of being able to irrigate effectively, simply by repositioning a few restraining boards whenever the need arose.
They reined up on a crest in the well-traveled road overlooking a delightfully quaint cottage that was a whitewashed picture of contentment. It was neatly trimmed in blue and obviously in good repair. It rested nestled in the shade of a huge oak tree.
Feeling a bit on the feisty side, she asked, “Did you plant th
at tree? It has to be at least a hundred-years old.”
He grinned. “Yeah...but I was barely a youngster when I did. So...what’dya think?” he then asked proudly. “Does it look like a place you might wanna call home for a spell?”
“I’ve seen worse,” she said softly, as she extended a hand out toward him.
He took it and smiled warmly into her contented expression. “I’m taking that as a yes.”
She squeezed his hand affectionately, thankful that he was there for her. She was suddenly flooded with remembrances of her father, but forced them aside as she squeezed the hand again. “Then yes it’ll be,” she offered lightly. She released his hand. “C’mon, gunfighter, let’s go.”
They rode down the hill and reined up at the corral that adjoined the modest, unpainted barn. She unloaded her things and unsaddled the buckskin and the dun while Nate unsaddled his mare. They tossed the saddles and blankets onto the top rail of the fence. After turning the animals into the enclosure, she watched as the buckskin lowered himself for a good roll in the soft dirt.
“Looks like he’s found a home,” she offered pleasantly.
“So have you for as long as you need it,” Nate said, and turned toward the pile of belongings she had stacked near the fence. “C’mon, let’s get these things over to the house and get you all settled in.”
She didn’t comment as he helped her carry the items to the house. As soon as he pushed the front door open, and she had entered, she knew she was gonna like it here just fine. The interior was nicely, but not lavishly, furnished. It was as if a woman had set each item in its place.
She was surprised when, almost as if reading her mind, he said simply, “My wife was the one who did all the decoratin’. Never did see no reason to change things after she passed.” A sadness had entered his voice.
“You miss her, don’t you?”
“Yeah...I miss her a bunch. She was the whole reason we ever started this farm in the first place. Her pa had a place south of the river that had the best orchards around. He taught the both of us the tricks of the trade. It was a sad day when he fell in the river an’ drowned.”
She Wore It Tied-Down Page 3
