Then one day, he stopped in a cow town in west Texas, and while eating in a saloon, two young cavalry officers came in for a bit of drinking and few moments of pleasure.
A willowy brunette saloon girl bought them a drink and asked, “Would you like some company? Me and my friend Cloe have rooms upstairs where we can supply the pleasure you seek.”
As the girls and the officers were walking up the stairs, a tall, lean gunman with a knife scar on his cheek walked through the batwing doors.
“That’s my woman,” the gunfighter snarled as he faced the soldier, tilted his hat, and rested his hands on his hips.
The handsome young lieutenant’s judgment had been impaired by whisky, and he responded, “She’s yours when she tells me she’s yours. I can see why you want her; she’s one of the prettiest girls in the saloon, but for now she’s in my company.”
“You didn’t hear me right, soldier boy. I’m not asking, I’m telling you to leave that girl be, or draw that gun you’re wearing.”
“I’m not a gunfighter; I’m an officer in the U. S. Cavalry, and my gun is strapped down.”
“Then unstrap it, soldier boy, and when that button unsnaps you’d better draw because your hand will be on your gun, and that makes you a threat to me, and I have a right to defend myself,” the gunman said as he took a step forward.
Realizing that the young officer was about to be killed, Dan got up from his table, walked to the base of the stairs, and stood facing the snarling gunfighter. In a voice that dripped ice, he said, “It’s unlikely that this soldier can draw a gun from a military holster as fast as you can draw your gun from a holster that has obviously been used many times to kill men in a fast-draw contest. But if you look closely, you’ll see that I’m wearing a gun that isn’t strapped down—it’s tied down. That pretty young lady is walking up those stairs willingly to provide a service for which she will be paid. I say, wait your turn.”
Charley, the bartender whispered, “Maybe you should stand down. That gunfighter is fast. He’s killed three men right here in this saloon.”
“Thank you, Charley, but I can’t let that gunfighter kill that young lieutenant. I haven’t got that much to live for, so I’ll take my chances.” Dan faced the gunfighter. “When you’re ready,” he said.
“I can kill you as easy as I can kill him,” the gunman snarled, “so draw when you feel lucky.”
“I don’t have to be lucky, and I never draw first, but I always shoot first. I’ve called your bluff, gunfighter, now wait your turn or show us how fast you are.” Dan was getting impatient with the gunfighter.
The gunman had a smirk on his face because he felt sure he could win. He turned to face Dan and drew, but he was a little too slow. Two guns blasted, but only one bullet found its mark, and the gunfighter slumped to the floor.
The gunfight sobered the young lieutenant. He had almost died, and he knew it. He pumped Dan’s hand with a vigorous shake. “If you hadn’t interceded, he would have killed me for sure. You just saved my life. How can I thank you?”
“No thanks required. I just came in for something to eat.”
“My name is Winnie Mae,” the pretty saloon girl chimed in. “I want to thank you also. It would be my pleasure to give you comfort.” You look like a lonely man, but there is kindness in your eyes. You’re searching for something, and I hope it’s me.
Dan tipped his hat to Winnie Mae, returned to his table and sat down to finish his meal. Winnie Mae continued up the stairs with the lieutenant.
The bartender stopped at Dan’s table, looked him over carefully. “You’re a cool character,” he said, “and I need a bouncer. Would you take the job?”
Dan glanced up and asked, “What happened to the last one?”
“The louse you just shot killed him last week. My business has dropped off to less than half what it was. Your eliminating that killer will increase my business, and if you’ll take the job as bouncer, it will increase even more. I’ll pay you well and provide a place for you to sleep. You can drink all the whisky you want. The girls will provide you with all the company you want, so how about it?”
“I don’t drink whisky—I like women though, but I’ve never availed myself of the services of a saloon girl. Your girls are all pretty, and Winnie Mae is special. I need a break from living on the prairie, so sure, I’ll take the job until you can find another bouncer. Where do I store my gear?”
“Top of the stairs, first room to the right. It’s next to Winnie Mae’s room, and I think she’ll like that. Since you don’t drink, I can pay you a little more.”
“Then, if it suits you, I’ll start right now and sit at that table by the door. If anyone starts trouble, I’ll cool them off. If they won’t cool off, I’ll throw them out, but how do I protect the girls? I know that randy cowboys get rowdy sometimes.”
“Why don’t you ask the girls? I’ll send them by your station one at a time— they know more about what they need than I do.”
“I’ll be waiting at that table, and don’t forget my coffee.”
“I’ll make sure you get your coffee. Do you take anything in it?”
“I had to drink it black when I camped on the prairie, but I like cream and sugar when I can get it.”
The bartender shook his head and chuckled as he walked back to the bar. He mumbled, “A bouncer that don’t drink whisky but drinks coffee with cream and sugar. That’s a first.”
“Don’t let the word get out,” Dan suggested with a grin.
A couple of men dragged the gunman to the mortician.
* * *
About a week after taking the job as bouncer, a cavalry colonel walked in accompanied by the young lieutenant whose life Dan had saved.
“May we join you?” the colonel asked politely.
“Yes, of course,” Dan acknowledged. “May I buy you a drink?”
“I don’t drink,” the colonel replied, “and I’m told that you don’t either, but Lieutenant Brien likes bourbon.”
Dan waved to Winnie Mae. “A bottle of our best bourbon, please.”
Winnie Mae had been a saloon girl long enough to know to be discreet, but this time discretion wasn’t necessary. When Winnie Mae presented the drinks, the lieutenant stood and introduced her.
“Colonel Mabry, this is Winnie Mae, the girl I told you about,” and then he turned to Dan. “I don’t know this man’s name, but I owe him my life.”
“Thank you for bringing the bourbon, Winnie Mae,” the colonel said. “I can see why men would fight over you.” Turning to Dan the colonel inquired, “What is your name?”
“My name is Daniel Duncan. People call me Dan. It’s my job to keep order here.”
“You do your job well, but you were not being paid when you risked your life to save the lives of my men, so I came to say thank you and offer my help if you ever need it.”
Colonel Mabry extended his hand with his card in it. “If you ever need help, I would be honored to do what I can.
“Colonel Mabry,” Dan replied with a polite nod, “it’s always a pleasure to meet a man of honor. I hope I’ll never need your help, but if I ever do, I’ll remember your offer. Thank you.”
“Dan, I am Lieutenant Jim Brien,” the lieutenant stated. “I and my troop patrol this area. I would like to take this bottle with me to share with my men, but I want to pay for it. I already owe you more than I can ever repay.”
“The bottle is yours, Lieutenant Brien. I hope you and your men enjoy it.” Dan then turned his attention to Colonel Mabry. “Perhaps we will meet again.”
Charley, the bartender, overheard the conversation and came to Dan’s station after the officers left, and said, “That bottle of whisky is on the house because it will bring us a lot of business.”
* * *
Days dragged into weeks, and it was time to move on. After three years of wandering, Dan was still searching for a place to settle down. Perhaps his destiny lay just over the next horizon, the next mountain, or the desert beyond.
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The railroad had come to the west bringing miners, adventurers, buffalo hunters, settlers, and men running from the law. Most of the runners were bad, but a few were good men who, due to bad luck and unfortunate circumstances, had conflicted with the law and they, like Dan, were looking for a place to start anew.
Many such men came from Ireland. The Irishmen had suffered the abuses of the last vestiges of feudalism. The landowners in Ireland were mostly English, and they made demands upon those who farmed and produced the landowner’s wealth—some of the workers couldn’t tolerate their treatment, so they rebelled and escaped to America.
Other settlers were of diverse origins. Many were responding to rumors of gold and a quick profit, but among that unsavory lot were people looking for a home—a piece of land where they could raise a family and live free.
* * *
Dan was alone, perhaps by choice but still alone. He was old enough to take a wife, and some of the saloon girls were looking for husbands, but the saloon girls had all the men they could handle so they weren’t looking for just a man, they were looking for respectability and financial security. Like Dan, they were just trying to make a living. They would gladly be his wife, and they made that clear, but Dan was not yet ready to accept a saloon girl as his wife. He knew that somewhere out there on that lonely prairie, or in the snow-covered mountains beyond, was what he was looking for, so he rode on.
* * *
It was another clear, sunny day, and Dan and Stamper were enjoying the quietness when suddenly a coyote ran past chasing a rabbit and startled Stamper. Stamper stepped into a prairie-dog hole and broke his leg, so Dan had to shoot him. “Can things get any worse?” Dan cried aloud to no one in particular. “Now I’ve lost my best friend.” He gathered what he could carry and left his saddle on the prairie to rot.
The prairie extended on and on toward what seemed an endless horizon. At first, the prairie looked bleak and barren, but after a closer look, Dan saw that it was home to countless animals. This land had been a hunting ground for thousands of people for thousands of years, and it was far from barren.
Dan sat on a stone and listened. He heard the voices of animals—some close, some muted by distance. The prairie was like a living thing that when it exhaled, it created an incessant wind that whispered through the grass. Tonight, the sun pushed down against a veil of high, thin clouds exploding color across the sky. It was magnificent, in a lonely way—he wished he had someone to share the beauty with. Darkness would soon follow, and it was time to find a place to spend the night. The valley ahead had a few trees.
A startled cottontail rabbit darted from its hiding place, and with a practiced draw, Dan shot it for his evening meal. He then camped under an elm tree, beneath which flowed a trickle of water.
As his rabbit roasted, Dan hung his blanket in the tree to use as a hammock, and then gathered a few wild onions. He ate the onions and the rabbit as the shadows of night engulfed the day.
A coyote’s yelp from the hill was echoed by a whippoorwill calling from down the in the valley. Stars moved across the sky; a warm breeze swayed Dan’s hammock, and night birds lulled him to sleep.
* * *
Light from the morning sky reflecting off the green leaves awakened him. Dan began his day with a cup of tea brewed from sage and while sipping the tea and enjoying its warmth, a meadow lark greeted the day with a song, and a squirrel darted by with an acorn in its mouth.
Life is not all that bad, Dan thought, as he looked at the beauty around him. He rolled up his blanket, checked his gun, stamped out the embers of his fire, and walked west by southwest, avoiding towns.
In wild country, towns meant trouble.
The outline of hills showed dimly on the horizon, and perhaps beyond those hills was a land for cattle. Dan knew about cows and people who raised them, so he thought he would try his luck there.
About mid-day, Dan came upon what appeared to be a seldom-used wagon road. The tracks indicated that a wagon pulled by two horses had passed through this morning going east.
Roads lead to people, but since Dan was going west and the road also extended west, Dan followed it.
The day was hot, and only a slight breeze was blowing. The path made by wagon wheels made walking easier, but it was dusty. Dan stopped in the shade of a pinion tree, gathered a few nuts, wiped his brow with his bandanna, and then continued on down the road. Soon he heard the unmistakable sound of a wagon and turned to see what appeared to be a woman driving a team of horses with a child on the seat beside her. The woman’s face showed signs of exposure to the sun and the wind. She was dressed in a man’s shirt—probably her husbands because it was too big for her, but the figure of a shapely woman showed plainly.
Dan stepped aside to allow the wagon to pass. The woman gave him only a casual glance but the child, a little girl, maybe four years old, smiled and waved. Dan saw the child speak to the woman. The woman looked back, hesitated a moment, then pulled back on the reins, and said, “Whoa.”
The horses stopped, allowing Dan to catch up. He felt the woman’s eyes take his measure as he stopped beside the wagon.
Dan greeted her with a “Howdy!”
“Why are you walking so far from civilization?” the woman asked.
“My horse stepped in a prairie dog hole yesterday and broke his leg. I had to shoot him and leave my saddle.”
“You can’t get far walking; so what’s your destination?”
“I have no destination. I’m looking for a place to farm, raise a few cows, and live in peace.”
“Are you running from the law? Many men are these days.”
“I’m running, all right, but the story of why is long. Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“You need a ride, and I need help, so yes, I want to hear why you’re running. You can tell me as we ride along.”
“Then scoot over, and I’ll drive. You look tired.”
“I’ve been driving all day, and I could use a break.”
“I’ll try to keep my story short,” Dan stated as he took the reins.
The wagon wheel hit a bump just as Dan was finishing his story. Glancing at the woman’s facial expression, he concluded with, “Now, you know why I’m walking, and if you want me to, I’ll get out right here and say thank you for listening. I’ve never told that story to anyone else, and I’m not sure why I told you, but I have a question to ask.”
“Ask what you will, and I’ll answer if I can.”
“Why are you and that child riding alone in this wild country?”
“We also have greedy bankers and crooked sheriffs here,” the woman offered. “A sheriff killed my husband about a year ago. I had no money and no other place to go, so I’ve been trying to hang on to my ranch. I’ve got thirty head of cattle, but I can’t tend them. My roof leaks, my horses need shoeing, and you can hear these wagon wheels squeaking. I have grease, but I can’t remove the wheels to grease them. I need help, but I have no money, so I can’t hire anyone. I can’t ask you to help because the men who killed my husband will kill you, too.”
“I can grease wagon wheels, fix your roof, and shoe your horses, but people will talk if I stay with you. Do you have a bunk house or a cabin I can sleep in?”
“I have a shed out behind the barn, and I have an extra bed I could put in it. I’ve got chickens that lay eggs and cows that give milk. We could butcher a calf for meat. I raise a garden, so I can feed you. I even have an extra saddle horse. You can have the horse, if you take the job, and I don’t care what people say. It’ll take us about two more hours to get to the ranch. Think about it.”
“I don’t have to think about it. I’ve already made up my mind. I’ll work for you.” He then turned to the girl. “What’s this pretty little girl’s name?” Dan asked smiling. “Mine’s Daniel Duncan. My parents and close friends called me Danny, but most everybody calls me Dan.”
“My daughter’s name is Vanessa, but we call her Venie. My name is Edna Calem. My husband’s name wa
s Ed, so I go by Edie, long on the E. I’ve met a lot of bad men since Ed died, but I know that all men are not bad. My father was a good man, and Ed was a good man. By necessity, I’ve learned to judge men, and I’m not afraid of being with you. In fact, I feel more secure because you are a kind man. Venie picked up on your kindness and asked me to stop. She likes you, and she’s pleased that you think she’s pretty.”
“Thank you for the compliment,” Dan replied. “I’ll try to be a good man, and I won’t violate either you or your confidence, but I’ve been traveling, and I must look a mess.”
“A bath and clean clothes would help,” Edie said with a smile. “You can bathe and wash your clothes in the stream at the same time, or wear my husband’s shirt, if you don’t mind.”
Venie climbed onto Dan’s lap and chattered away about the ranch. Pointing at some buildings in the valley, Dan asked, “Is that the ranch house there in the valley by the stream?”
“That’s it,” Edie responded. “We call it the Rocking Bar Ranch. It isn’t much, but it’s home to me and Venie. Ed and I came here right after we got married, and Vanessa was born about a year later. I was only sixteen when we got married, and that was five years ago.”
“Then we are the same age,” Dan stated. “I was eighteen when I had the shoot-out with the banker and the sheriff. I’ve been on the move for three years. I think it’s more than a coincidence that we met. I had to deal with the same problem you’re facing. I lost my home, and I’m looking for a place to start over. You have a home, but you’re going to lose it the same way I lost mine. I’m not going to stand by and allow you and your daughter to suffer the same fate that my parents suffered. If you will let me, I’ll save your ranch, but you’ll have to trust me. We’ll have to work together, to do what’s in your and Venie’s best interest. You must be tired,” Dan added as the wagon rolled into the yard. “I’ll unhook the horses and put out some hay while you and Venie get something to eat. I’ll clean up in the stream and sleep in the barn. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Danny Page 2
