Alex laughed. “What’s your act?”
“You don’t wanna be in his act, Ladilex,” Cal said.
Jesse put an arm around her gently, almost possessively. “He’s the trick whip cracker,” he said.
Alex couldn’t watch that part of the show. The idea someone could stand still with a cigarette in their mouth and let someone else whip it out was beyond her. She flinched at the very idea. Jesse took her out, stepping over the Yosts and others to get out of the tent into the fresh air.
“You didn’t have to leave,” she said at last.
“Not as good fun as the circus, was it? Pretend gunfights and all. Maybe them city folk like to see that, but I reckon we got enough of them out here.”
“I haven’t seen a gunfight!”
“No? Well, here’s hopin’ you never do—see a real one, that is.” They walked on in silence. “I hear you been paintin’ over at Miss Bea’s? That musta been real int’restin’.”
“Oh, very.” Alex tried not to laugh but couldn’t help herself.
“What?” Jesse stopped and looked at her. She was more woman now; somehow the child was slowly disappearing and there was an adult there instead. “She bin tellin’ you tales?”
“Definitely not,” she affirmed. “I asked, I begged her.” She made a drama of her speech. “But she said she couldn’t tell me a thing or it might ruin her business. Dreadful! Think of all the knowledge I could have gained, think of all the men I could be blackmailing—”
“Think of all the lies you might be telling…instead, of course, of the ones you’re tellin’ now.” Jesse laughed.
He lifted his hat for a moment and ran his hand through his hair. Alex suddenly yanked the long bits at the back of his neck she had always liked to play with. “Why do you do that?” he asked. “You always liked to do that, even when you were little.” He shook his head pondering it for a moment.
Alex giggled. “I don’t know really. I just… I don’t know.” They stood there for a moment on the boardwalk with the softening light of the late afternoon about them, each with their own memories, their own thoughts of the years that connected them.
“I have to get back,” he said at last.
****
The Wild West Show sketches went very well over the next few days. Alex thought about bringing a rig into town to collect her things from Miss Bea’s. Riding in the last day of the show, she spotted one of the Faringdon wagons outside the Benders’ shop.
“Now, if you’re still wondering ’bout them boots, Lady Alex,” Mrs. Bender started as she entered the shop, “I’m afraid I’m still waitin’ on news. All the bootmakers I’ve contacted are real backed up on orders at the moment.”
“That’s positively ridiculous,” Alex shot back. “How long can this possibly take? Anyway,” she continued, “I just came in looking for whoever was driving our wagon out front. Have they been in?”
“Oh, yes, it was Jesse Makepeace. He started to give me an order but then the sheriff came in saying something ’bout getting a posse to go out after the Darcy Brothers up near Boyd Lake, and Jess shot out of here like a bat outta hell. Went over to the liv’ry for a mount, I think. Said something ’bout Garrett Landry being up there on his own.”
“Has he gone with the posse?”
“Oh, no I don’t think so. Sheriff’s still gathering men.”
The door jangled as Alex left. She got to Ranger, checked she had cartridges for the Purdy, and that the rifle was loaded, and then loaded a sixth bullet into her Colt.
Chapter Twelve
Jesse feared the Darcy brothers would have smoked Garrett out of the cabin by the time he got to Boyd. They had twenty-odd horses up there, not to mention however many cattle the Darcys could rustle. Garrett had years more experience than he with handling rustlers, but Garrett was getting on a bit and his reactions now were often slow.
Then it went through Jesse’s mind that if anything happened to him, he’d never see Alex again. They had eased back into something like their old relationship before the quarrel at the corral, but he had never told her what he felt, never been able to put his feelings into words, and never learned whether she returned those feelings for him. If he came out of this alive, he swore to put things to rights.
There wasn’t any smoke so he figured Garrett must be outside somewhere. Tying the horse, Jesse listened for a moment, then slipped down through the trees closer to the corral. Birdsong had stopped and it was too silent. It even seemed the water had almost stopped lapping at the lake-shore. Suddenly gunfire rang out. He ducked, rolling about five feet to end up near the last little copse before the cleared area in front of the cabin.
“Well, what have we here?” said a voice behind him.
Jesse whirled around and looked up into Garrett’s face. “I guess I made it in time.”
“One is over yonder.” Garrett pointed to the side of the cabin he had now abandoned. “But I’ve lost sight of t’other. He’s prob’ly circling round to come up behind. I think we ought to try to get to the wagon there.” He gestured to the cart several feet up toward the camp. “Be better cover.”
“I’ll go first,” offered Jesse, and Garrett nodded.
Jesse pushed his hat down on his head and ran, gun drawn, to the wagon, then scrambled underneath. A shot rang out; Garrett’s gun fired in reply. Jesse looked back to Garrett and signaled for him to come on, he was covering him.
Garrett lumbered as fast as he could toward the wagon, his leg giving way at the last moment and causing him to trip. Another shot sounded and he rolled toward Jesse who yanked him under the wagon bed.
“You hit?” Jesse looked his friend over.
“Hit? Hell no. I got me the arthritis, ya dang fool,” grunted Garrett, looking about. “Dang pain’ll kill me ’fore any damn Darcy will.”
****
Alex heard the shots in the distance, saw startled, frightened horses milling in the corral, but as she approached, the guns went silent and she couldn’t figure where Jesse and Garrett might be. She led Ranger into the trees a good distance from the cabin, tied him up and got her rifle out of its scabbard. Then she darted through the woods down toward the camp.
The guns fired again and she stopped in her tracks, uncertain what to do. After a few moments she realized some shots were coming from only a few yards down and off to the right, so she continued on her way. It was, indeed, Jesse and Garrett, hunkered down under the ranch wagon.
She threw a stone but it was absolutely no use. No one heard. She wished she could whistle but that was pointless as well. She ran up to the next tree and squatted against a large rock there, taking off her hat and gloves and casting them aside so she could best use the rifle, if necessary. Still hiding behind the rock, she pulled the Colt from its holster.
Behind her, there was a click. “Well, who have we here?”
Alex spun around and fired the Colt into the man’s stomach. Blood arched out as he fell backward, his shot going into the branches as birds screeched away from falling leaves. Stunned, she turned back to see Jesse running but then another man came from the left. Alex lifted her rifle to fire and took him down also.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” she kept repeating as she crumpled and slid down the bloodied rock. She was trembling and shivering and shaking; tears streamed down her face, both firearms thrown aside. Then Jesse’s arms were around her, holding her tight. She couldn’t stop sobbing, keening in his embrace.
“Are you all right, are you all right?” he kept asking. There was no answer, just the tremulous small body he held against him, and the gasping and shuddering that would not stop.
“She hurt?” Garrett came up and squatted next to Jesse.
“I don’t know.” Jesse sat back to try and examine Alex but she sobbed and rocked more. “Alex,” he said gently, turning her face to him. “It’s all right, it’s gonna be all right. Are you hurt?”
At last he got a shake of the head in reply so he took her back into his arms and sat with he
r, leaning against the blood-colored rock.
“Jeez.” Garrett looked down at the dead man. “She sure got a clean shot off both times. Good thing too. I think I was jus’ ’bout outta cartridges.”
Jesse just held Alex, whose wailing had at last subsided into whimpers. He rocked gently with her as he might cradle a small child.
The posse rode in at a gallop, pulling up short when they saw Garrett waving them down.
“‘Fraid you missed all the action, Sheriff,” Garrett said as the other man dismounted. He met Amos Dunn to talk quietly with him out of Alex’s hearing. “This here Lady Alex done took ’em both down. Saved our lives, she did,” he added with his own sense of wonder.
The sheriff walked over to see the one dead Darcy brother and Jesse and Alex huddled together nearby. Jesse nodded to him briefly as the sheriff shook his head and sighed. “Damnest thing I ever heard. Been huntin’ them two boys for months now, and you tell me one small female—hell, where’s the other?” Garrett pointed to where the other man lay. “Well, if I hadn’ta seen it, I wouldn’ta believed it.”
The sheriff looked again at Jesse with Alex still in his arms. “Gonna need a statement sometime, Jess, jus’ to square up the books.” Jesse gave a small shake of his head in acknowledgement, but said nothing. “Well, I’ll be. Damnest thing I ever saw. All right then, boys, let’s clean this up and take these two carcasses back into town.” He lit a cheroot as a few of the men got down and started to haul away the bodies to throw over horses.
“You can take that horse, Sheriff.” Jesse gave a nod back to the trees. “Return him to Foote and Stoddard’s Liv’ry for me, if you all don’t mind. I’ll settle with Virgil tomorrow.”
By the time the men had tied the bodies onto the spare horse and gone, Alex was somewhat calmer but still nestled into Jesse’s neck. Garrett crouched next to the pair and lightly rubbed Alex’s arm to soothe her a bit. “You done a good thing, gal. I know it ain’t feelin’ too good at the moment but ya done a good thing,” he said.
“I killed two men,” she whispered. “It’s horrible. Women are supposed to give birth, not cause death.” Tears tracked down the lead dust on her cheeks.
“Yeah, well, sometimes life has just got these fine lines init,” Garrett said. “Sometimes you just have to make a durned decision lickety split, one side or t’ other, and hope it’s the right one, and mebbe you don’t like havin’ to make that decision but there it is—it’s made—and ya jus’ have to live with it. See, in your case, I’d say you done made the right decision ’cause here I am, and there Jesse is, and them two outlaws is dead.”
Alex sat up for a moment, blinking back more tears. She made a small attempt at what tried to be a smile, then lay back against Jesse again.
“That horse of your’n gonna let me lead him down here?” Garrett asked. He got what looked like a nod and wandered off to where Ranger was tied.
The two men found Alex’s hat and put it back on her head, though she pushed it off so it hung by its stampede strap. Jesse emptied the cartridge from under the hammer of the Colt and pushed the gun into her holster, then jammed the Purdy back into its scabbard on the horse. Garrett handed him his hat.
“You be all right here tonight, Garrett?” Jesse swung up into Ranger’s saddle and extended his hand to help Alex up behind.
“I reckon. If I were a’feared of haunts, I might think otherwise. You all stay down at headquarters and I’ll take care up here tonight.” He waved them off.
****
They rode at a slow lope, Alex leaning into Jesse, her hands gentle about his waist. She felt again the solid strength of his body, and nestled her cheek against his back for a moment thinking of the things Miss Bea had told her, and wanting Jesse, wanting to know what his skin would feel like against hers, what his touch would feel like, or his kiss. The June evening was slow to come. The last hour of sunlight flickered through trees and then spread out on the horizon, a blood-red ribbon on the open range. A grouse sprang out of some sage and Alex started. Jesse patted her hand and then held it tight. She wished he wasn’t wearing a glove.
After a time he said, “Alex, sometimes good people just have to do bad things. I’ve learned that now, and so should you.”
“I know,” she sniffed. Jesse’s chest moved as he took in a deep breath and let it out.
“You know,” he said, “when I wake up in the mornin’ and I know I’m gonna see you, it sorta puts a whole diff’rent shine on the day. You know what I’m sayin’ here?” She gave no reply, only a gentle movement of her cheek against his back. “I think…I think it’s just a real honor to know you, Alex.” And he held up her hand and kissed it.
****
Over the next few days Alex stayed inside, finishing some paintings in the studio she had made herself in an upstairs room. Oliver had been furious when he heard the story of Boyd camp, how she had followed Jesse knowing there was trouble ahead, but he eventually calmed down enough to note she was a “damned good shot” and the county was well rid of those cattle thieves.
Annie visited to see if there was anything she could do but only time would heal what Alex felt about having killed two men. The older woman tried her best, as did Tom, to assure the girl she had done the right thing but Alex only listened politely.
Jesse was back up at Boyd and Alex didn’t want to see the punchers just yet, but then one day a surrey pulled up outside. At an upstairs window, Alex smiled to herself as out stepped Miss Bea, dressed outrageously in violet head-to-toe with purple feathers just about any place a feather could be stuck. Oliver was out, and a scandalized Wilson, the butler, started to refuse the madam entrance but was summarily pushed aside.
“Lady A., you get your ass down here this moment,” Bea shouted up the stairs. “Or I’m coming up afta you.” Alex appeared at the top of the steps. “Hell, gal, this place is worse’n any sportin’ house I ever run. Who in tarnation designed this lot?” Alex laughed and cried all at once and gave her friend a big hug.
Wilson served lemonade out on the back terrace, setting it down as if his fingers might get burnt but both ladies ignored him. Bea sat back in her chair, her eyes narrowed at Alex. “You’re missin’ all the town news, sweetheart. When ya comin’ in?”
Alex shuffled a bit. “Oh, I’m not sure. In a bit perhaps.”
“You’ve left your things in my office. Ain’t a whole lotta space in there, Lady A. I need ya to collect that junk.”
Alex flinched. “I suppose everyone is talking about me. I don’t know I can face all that just yet, Bea.”
“Well. There sure are some jokes about the Lady-killer but you know you’re stronger than that. Look-a-here, sweetheart. You all are gonna haveta come into town sometime, so you might as well come and get your things, make a quick trip of it, do me a favor will ya? You’re gonna have to face people sometime. Just you act nat’ral like as if nothin’ has changed and that’s the way it’ll be.”
Alex hitched up the wagon the next day and went to get her paintings and oils. She found the alley door at Miss Bea’s locked and so went around to the front, pushing the saloon doors open. There was total silence as she crossed the room. Barney nodded at her as he continued to dry a glass and then, one by one, men got up from their seats, removing their hats and some clapping their hands. Alex stopped at the foot of the stairs, looked back at them and said in her best Colorado voice, “I thought you only removed your hats when a funeral went by. I ain’t dead yet.”
****
Seeing the Faringdon outfit was going to be more difficult. She remembered the tentative way they had treated her after her fall when word had got out about her scars. Alex thought this would be far worse. It was J.J. and Sue Ann’s joint birthday party at the end of the month that had many of them gathered together at the Homestead. Alex had told Annie she was learning from Mrs. Rackham, Oliver’s cook, to frost cakes and would come over and frost one of Rackham’s cakes at the party so it wouldn’t get ruined on the way.
Most of t
he men were out the back when she arrived but Tom, Annie and Jesse came out to greet her, and Alex settled into the kitchen area to finish the cake. Tom and Jesse viewed the proceedings lost in their own separate thoughts.
“I’m wonderin’ where we’ll all be for their next birthdays.” Tom took a deep breath. Suddenly he appeared older, more lined, worn.
“That bad?”
“Well…Calthorpe’s talkin’ ’bout holding the beeves over winter. Says the prices might pick up next spring.”
“What do you think?”
“I think it’s a dang bad idea. Prices go down as well as up. We could have a bad winter. Hot summer’s meant grass is scorched in places. I’d take the money and run. Plus, of course, he’s wantin’ to cut back all the time. If we’re short handed we jus’ won’t manage. Too many damn cows on that range anyways.”
They stood for a while watching Alex try to find things in the kitchen. Annie handed her various items and she measured them as best she could then stirred them in a big bowl.
“Does Alex know?” Jesse asked at last.
“Alex? I don’t know it has anythin’ to do with Alex, Jess. What can she do? She’s makin’ her own life with the paintin’ and all and, anyway, Calthorpe wouldn’t listen to me—you all think he’s goin’ to listen to her?”
“You taught her the business, Tom. She loves this ranch as much as anyone. She surely wouldn’t want to see it go bust.”
“Well, maybe not. But I don’t reckon she has much influence on that man. It’s the shareholders’ll worry him most.”
“Well, that includes you ’n me.”
Tom looked at Jesse. “Yeah, but mostly that’s Alex’s father.” They stood for a while as the action in the kitchen continued. “You don’t see Calthorpe getting rid of none of his household servants. Punchers he can do without. Dang footmen or whatever you call ’em, that’s another thing.” A moment passed as they watched the two women laughing. “You gonna marry that gal, Jess? Don’t you think it’s about time?”
Jesse swallowed hard, glanced at his mentor, then back at Alex. “I’m ten year older than her, Tom. And aside from some savings from the shares and all, I hardly got enough to get a house and start a fam’ly.”
Loveland Page 11
