“You would think so,” she said. “You’re a man.”
“Yes, ma’am, I am.”
She drank her brandy, turned to her daughter, and started talking to her in low tones.
“Stop it, Mom,” Adele said, pulling away. “I’m fine.”
“How can you be fine, when you just got left at the altar?” Debra said.
“Well, maybe I don’t care.”
“Now, Adele, that’s no way to talk.”
“Dan’s a nice man, Momma, but he’s a lot older than I am.”
“Your father was a lot older than I was when we got married.”
“I know,” Adele said, “and look what happened to you.”
“I’ve had a good life.”
“Oh, Momma, you’re miserable,” Adele said. “He treats you so badly.”
“He’s… he’s not that bad,” Debra said, but she was not convincing.
Clint stood by quietly.
“You can’t even convince yourself, Momma,” Adele said. “Eddie, some more brandy!”
“Sure, Adele.”
He brought two more glasses and set them down. Debra finished the one she was holding and picked up the fresh one. She seemed to be out of arguments.
“So what do we do now, Mother?” Adele asked.
“Finish your drink,” Debra said, “and we’ll go back home.”
“No.”
“What?” Debra asked.
“I don’t want to go home,” Adele said. “Ever. And I don’t want you to.”
“Adele—”
“Not to him, Mother,” Adele said. “He’s off somewhere getting drunk. If we do go home, we should pack our things and leave.”
“Leave?” Debra asked. “And go where?”
Adele looked around helplessly.
“Well,” Clint said, “you could start with the hotel.”
“You did what?” Father Joe asked.
Clint and the vicar looked over at the two women, who were now sitting at a back table together.
“I told them I’d take them home to get their things,” Clint said. “They want to leave the old man.”
“You’re going to help a woman leave her husband?” Father Joe asked.
“Well,” Clint said, “I figure I’ll be helping them stay alive. The old man’s bound to be drunk by now.”
“Clint,” Father Joe said, “I just wanted you to soothe their feelings, not agree to help break up a marriage.”
“Afraid it’s not much of a marriage, Joe,” Clint said. “He beats both of them.”
“But that’s between him and his wife,” Father Joe said.
“Joe,” Clint said, “I can’t let them go back there alone. You don’t want him to murder them, do you?”
“No,” Father Joe said, “no, of course not.”
“Good,” Clint said.
“What will you do?”
“I’ll help them get their things,” Clint said, “and then escort them to the hotel. Once they’re in a room, I’ll come and see you.”
“And what about the husband? The father?”
“Whittington couldn’t get into the saloon, so he’s probably off somewhere with a bottle of whiskey.”
“And if he’s not?”
“I’m not going to kill him, if that’s what you mean,” Clint said. “I’m just going to keep him from killing them.”
“All right,” Father Joe said. “See that’s all you do, then.”
“Don’t worry.”
“I’ll be waiting at the church.”
“I’ll see you there.”
As Father Joe left, Clint walked to the table and said to the two women, “Ladies?”
THIRTEEN
Debra and Adele Whittington had come to town on a buckboard with Ben. The buckboard was still in front of the church. Clint decided to saddle Eclipse rather than ride to their house on the buckboard with them.
He helped both women up onto the buckboard, and then mounted Eclipse. The church was empty, and Father Joe came to the door to watch them ride away.
“Father Joe doesn’t approve,” Debra said.
“Don’t worry about Father Joe,” Clint said. “You’ve got to do what’s right for you.”
“See, Mother?” Adele said. “Mr. Adams understands.”
Debra looked at him, riding alongside them. Adele was handling the reins.
“You seem to be friends with Father Joe,” she said.
“I was friends with Joe Holloway,” he replied. “I’m not so sure about Father Joe.”
“He has the town under his control, you know.”
“Whose fault is that?” Clint asked. “You have a town council and a sheriff. Why would the town let a man with a Bible control them?”
“It’s the women,” Adele said. “They were so desperate for a priest, and a church, that they welcomed him with open arms.”
“There’s something about him,” Debra said. “He’s not like any man of God I’ve ever known before.”
Clint kept silent. Joe Holloway’s past was his own business.
When they reached the Whittington house outside of town, it seemed deserted.
“Mr. Adams,” Adele said, “if he’s here and drunk, you have to be real careful. He’ll go crazy.”
“Does he have a gun?” Clint asked.
“He has a rifle in the house,” Debra said.
“All right,” Clint said, dismounting. He looked at Adele. “Put that brake on.”
She did so, and he helped both women down, then followed them to the front door of the house.
“Let me go in first,” he said.
They stood aside while he entered and determined that the house was empty.
“Okay,” he said, stepping outside again. “Pack light and fast.”
But of course, by the time they were done, they had the back of the buckboard full, and Clint had to find some rope to tie everything down.
“Did you leave anything?” he asked.
“My mother is entitled to all this,” Adele said.
She was, of course, entitled to her clothes, and all the pots and pans she took from the kitchen, but he wasn’t sure about the chairs and small tables they’d taken. There was nothing so heavy they had needed his help, so he had stood by and watched them carry things from the house. If he had to, he could swear he hadn’t touched a thing himself.
Clint looked around, waiting for the man of the house to come staggering into view, but he never did.
“We’re ready,” Adele said. She touched Clint’s arm. “I want to thank you for your help. Maybe… later?” She rubbed his arm, and suddenly she didn’t look like such a blushing bride-to-be.
“We better get back, Adele,” he said.
She turned to let him put his hands on her waist and hoist her up, but first she pressed her firm backside against his crotch.
Yep, not so blushing.
FOURTEEN
They rode back into town, got the buckboard stored in the livery with a tarp tied down over it, and Eclipse back in a stall with some feed.
Clint walked Debra and Adele over to the hotel, where they checked into one room.
Adele kept walking very close to Clint, even bumping his hip with hers, something her mother seemed completely clueless about.
Once they were in their room, Clint stood outside in the hall and said, “I’ll see you ladies later.”
“Why don’t you lie down, Mother?” Adele said. She pushed Clint out into the hall, closing the door behind her and pressing herself up against him so that there was no mistake about what she was doing.
“Adele—”
“Will you come back later for supper?” she asked. “I mean, what if Papa finds us?”
“I have to go and talk to Father Joe,” he said. “I’ll come back later.”
“What room are you in?” she whispered. “Maybe I can come by later. You know, in case I get… nervous.”
Clint felt his body responding to the nearness of this young, heal
thy woman, who did not seem the least bit upset about being left at the altar.
“Adele,” he said, “you’re very lovely, but you’re very young.”
“Not so young,” she said. “My father considers me an old maid at twenty-two.”
“Well, he’s an idiot.”
“That’s what I keep trying to tell Mother.”
“You better see to her,” Clint said. “I’ll be back a little later.”
“All right,” she said, hooking one finger into his belt, “but don’t make me come looking for you.”
He opened the door to the room and gently pushed her back in.
At the church he found Father Joe walking the pews. The ex-gunfighter looked up as he entered.
“Just making sure everything is clean,” Father Joe said. “You know, no tobacco juice? How did things go at the Whittington home?”
“Fine,” Clint said. “The ladies cleaned out the house, and Whittington never showed up.”
“That’s good.”
“But what’s going to happen when he gets home?”
“He’ll have to sober up first, but then he’ll probably get upset and go looking for his family.”
“Hopefully I won’t be around when that happens,” Clint said.
“Are you leavin’?”
“Well, I came to see a wedding, and apparently there isn’t going to be one.”
“When will you leave?”
“I was thinking about tomorrow morning.”
“I appreciate you comin’, Clint,” Father Joe said. “Maybe you didn’t get to see the wedding, but you’ve seen that I’m a changed man.”
“Yes.” Clint didn’t know what else to say. Argue with the man that he really didn’t seem to be very changed at all?
“I can’t have supper tonight,” Father Joe said. “I have some home visits to make.”
“That’s okay,” Clint said. “I think I might have my hands full tonight.”
Father Joe tapped Clint on the chest with his forefinger and said, “See that you behave yourself.”
“Oh, yeah,” Clint said, “definitely.”
“I have to go,” Father Joe said. “Why don’t you sit here awhile.”
“And do what?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Father Joe said. “Get right with God?”
“Look, Joe, just because you felt the need—”
“Okay, okay,” Father Joe said, “I’ll back off. You see to your soul yourself.”
He patted Clint on the shoulder and left the church.
Clint waited a few minutes after the vicar left, and then stepped from the church himself. He felt kind of bad leaving town and letting the women deal with Ben Whittington themselves, but they had probably been doing that for many years. And Adele seemed bound and determined to get not only herself away from her father, but her mother, too.
And if they needed help, didn’t they have Father Joe waiting in the wings? Wasn’t that what a pastor/priest/vicar or whatever was for?
FIFTEEN
The tree was a long way off, but Clint had seen these things before. He knew what it was way before he reached it.
He’d said good-bye to Father Joe that morning, and left Griggsville without seeing Adele or Debra Whittington again. He was sorry to disappoint young Adele, but if he was going to sleep with one of them, he would have preferred the mother.
She had knocked and scratched at his door during the night, but he didn’t answer, figuring it was her. Later he started to hope that it hadn’t been Debra. The daughter was pretty and young, but the mother was lovely and ripe. He wouldn’t have turned her away, despite the fact she was married. It was obviously not a happy marriage.
As he got closer, he could see there were two of them, swaying in the slight breeze. As he got even closer, he started to worry, hoping that it wasn’t who he thought it was. If it was, he was going to have to go back to town and he hated going back, especially when he thought he had left someplace behind.
He hoped the two women hadn’t been depending on him for anything more than an escort to and from their house, to gather their belongings. He hoped that when they awoke and found him gone, they wouldn’t just go back to the husband.
“Ah shit,” he said to Eclipse as he reached the tree. If there was something you never forgot, it was the sight of a man hanging from a tree, even at a distance. This time, there were two of them hanging.
Clint rode up to the two bodies, so he could see their faces, which were facing down. Still on Eclipse, he had to ride up close and lean down to see them.
Dan Carter and Ben Whittington.
The groom-to-be and the father-in-law-to-be, hanging from a tree, dead. He couldn’t tell from looking at them if they’d been hanged separately, or at the same time. If it had been at the same time, then somebody had grabbed the groom and held him until they were able to grab the father.
From the way their faces looked, they had both choked to death. They had not already been dead when they were strung up.
Somebody had wanted these two men dead. That meant there had to be a connection between them beyond the fact that Carter was going to marry Whittington’s daughter. And if somebody wanted them dead, could the same be true for the women?
He backed Eclipse away from the swaying bodies and did some thinking. He could just continue riding on, leaving Griggsville and all its problems behind him. But could he leave those two women to be killed? Could he go without knowing what the hell had happened here? Was his curiosity that demanding?
Damn it, yeah, it was. And also his concern for the two women. They at least needed to know that their husband/father was dead, and maybe it would help Adele to know that her groom-to-be had a damn good reason for standing her up.
Or maybe she wouldn’t care. After all, she didn’t seem so upset, did she?
He thought briefly about cutting the bodies down, but hanging where they were, at least they were safe from critters. They’d still be hanging there when he got back with the sheriff and some men.
He took one last look at the men. They were each hanging from their own branch, and each branch looked solid enough to hold their weight until he returned.
He wheeled Eclipse around and headed back to Griggsville.
He decided to ride to St. James Church first, before going to the sheriff. Maybe Father Joe knew something.
He reined Eclipse in and looped his reins loosely over a rail, then entered the church. Empty, like every time he’d been there except for the wedding.
He walked down the aisle, made his way to Father Joe’s door, and knocked. When it opened, Father Joe looked at him in surprise.
“Back so soon?”
“Not by choice,” Clint said. “I found Dan Carter and Ben Whittington.”
“Together? Where?”
“Just outside of town,” Clint said. “Hanging from a tree.”
“Dead?”
“Dead.”
“Lynched?”
Clint nodded.
“Christ, why?”
“Now, that was something I was hoping you could tell me.”
SIXTEEN
Father Joe had nothing to offer, but he agreed to go to the sheriff’s office with Clint and talk to Sheriff Bricker.
Bricker looked up and showed surprise as Clint and the vicar walked in.
“Mr. Adams,” he said. “I thought you left town this morning.”
“I did,” Clint said. “Unfortunately I didn’t get very far.”
“Why not?”
“I found two dead bodies hanging from a tree,” Clint said. “Dan Carter and Ben Whittington.”
“What?” Bricker got to his feet. “Lynched?”
“Yup,” Clint said. “They both choked to death.”
“Christ! What did you do with them?”
“I left them where they were,” Clint said. “I had no way to get them back to town.”
“You left them hanging?” Father Joe asked.
“If I didn’t, w
e’d get back and find half-eaten carcasses.”
“The buzzards can still get to them,” Bricker pointed out.
“Buzzards,” Clint said. He just realized that there were no buzzards circling around the tree, and he mentioned it.
“That means they had probably just been strung up,” Father Joe said. “The buzzards hadn’t even had a chance to gather yet.”
“Well,” Clint said, “we better get a buckboard out there and cut them down before the buzzards do find them.”
“You’re right,” Bricker said, coming around his desk. “Let’s go.”
They not only got a buckboard, but the undertaker as well. His name was Harve Jackson. They used his buckboard and the four of them rode out to the tree. Father Joe rode on the buckboard with Jackson while Clint and Bricker used their own horses.
When they arrived, Sheriff Bricker said, “Jesus Christ.”
“Please don’t blaspheme, Sheriff,” Father Joe said.
“Sorry, Father.”
They positioned the buckboard beneath the bodies, then Clint and Bricker took hold of their legs while Harve Jackson cut them down.
They laid the bodies down on the bed of the buckboard and covered them, but first Bricker had the undertaker examine them.
“I ain’t no doctor,” Jackson said, “but as far as I can see, these men ain’t got no other wounds. They was hung to death.”
“All right,” Bricker said, “let’s get these men back to town.”
“Just a moment,” Father Joe said. He recited a prayer over the dead men, then shook his head. “Who would do this kind of thing?”
“I don’t know,” Sheriff Bricker said, “but I guess I’m gonna have to find out.”
Clint and Bricker mounted up. Jackson and Father Joe climbed up onto the buckboard seat and turned it around. They headed back to town to give Debra and Adele Whittington the bad news.
When they reached town, they stopped in front of the church to let Father Joe off first.
“What are you gonna do, Sheriff?” Father Joe asked.
“I’ll help Harve get the bodies into his place, and then I’ll have to go and tell Mrs. Whittington and her daughter about Carter and Old Man Whittington.”
The Vicar of St. James Page 4
