Alta Vista: Sage Country Book Two

by Dan Arnold

  The big Black man looked down at us.

  “They didn’t say, but I reckon they is the law,” he growled.

  “Well then, by all means let them in, Max,” Mrs. Poole said.

  31.

  Wes and I removed our soggy hats and stepped into the foyer of the house, mindful of our wet slickers and muddy boots. The foyer was in the middle of the first floor with a split staircase on the far side of the room. With the exception of the polished oak floor, all the visible wood was dark walnut and polished with care. The runner on the staircase appeared to be oriental and the lamps were all crystal. The whole effect was elegant.

  There was a doorway to our right that might lead back to the kitchen. To our left was a sitting room in which four women were sitting on velvet covered chairs and an ottoman. All the furniture was upholstered in green velvet, the color of emeralds.

  One of the women was holding a violin in her lap.

  “May ah take yo hats and coats,” Max asked, though it sounded more like a command.

  We shrugged out of our slickers. Max hung them and our hats on a coat rack by the front door.

  I saw him eyeing our guns. I was shocked to see Wes was wearing a tied down gun under his slicker. I couldn’t figure out when he could have put it on, or why he had done so. I noticed he wasn’t wearing his clerical collar either.

  “This way, gentlemen.” Max said, sweeping his arm toward the sitting room.

  As we stepped into the sitting room, Mrs. Poole’s jaw dropped and she paled visibly.

  “Wes, is that you?”

  Quietly, he replied.

  “Yes, Emma, it’s me.”

  Quickly recovering her poise, she offered me her hand.

  “Good evening, Sheriff Sage. May I introduce you to these ladies?”

  “A pleasure, I’m sure,” I said, immediately regretting my choice of words.

  There were smiles all around the room except for myself and Wes. I was completely chagrined, and Wes had his eyes closed trying to pretend he hadn’t heard me say it.

  “Sheriff Sage, this is Nancy, Debbie, and Victoria. Debbie has been playing her violin for us. Ladies, may I introduce John Everett Sage, the Sheriff of this county.”

  Various pleasantries were mumbled in response.

  While I was aware we were in a house of ill repute, the women were all fashionably dressed and could’ve been mistaken for ladies of high society. In my experience, it was an uncommon thing among working girls.

  Mrs. Poole was not about to forget her manners.

  “Ladies, may I introduce an old friend, Mr. Wesley Spradlin. I have no idea why he is here. Indeed, why are you here Mr. Spradlin?”

  Wes opened his mouth, but no words came out. He closed his mouth and looked quickly at me.

  “Mr. Spradlin is the interim pastor of our church in Bear Creek. He is also going to be leading the committee to establish a county orphanage.”

  Mrs. Poole blinked several times. It appeared she would’ve been less surprised if I’d said Wes was a traveling clown.

  Again, she recovered quickly.

  “Oh my, I’ve completely forgotten my manners! Gentlemen, please have a seat. May I offer you some refreshment? It’s a nasty night out, what with the storm and all.”

  “No, thank you, Ma’am,” I replied.

  “Nonsense, I insist! Max, please go to the kitchen, and ask Ophelia to send in some coffee and sandwiches. Thank you.”

  “Yes’m,” Max said.

  With a little bow, he turned and left the room.

  “Gentlemen, please be seated,” she repeated.

  We found seats on the other side of the room. We found ourselves sitting on velvet covered chairs on opposite sides of a grand piano. I was acutely aware of my muddy boots and wet clothing.

  Debbie put her violin into a case.

  Mrs. Poole took the opportunity to get straight to the point.

  “Ladies, as you know the Sheriff here is the reason we are going out of business at this address. As I told you, I’ve promised this building and the land for the establishment of an orphanage and school. You may have heard that the Sheriff is going to clean up this town. He has my full support and confidence.”

  I found her comments to be both gracious and surprising. I’d had no idea we would even see her in North Fork.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Poole. I must say finding you up here comes as something of a surprise.”

  “I came up on Saturday to begin addressing the issues of closing this business. As of today, we are effectively out of business. I’ve contracted with Atwater Freight to move the furniture and fixtures to Denver. I expect to have the move completed by the end of the week, and the buildings will be available starting next week. Does this meet with your approval?”

  “Yes, Ma’am, it surely does. It’s a pretty clear indicator; things are changing in North Fork. Have you experienced any opposition?”

  “Not yet. This is the first day we are out of business. We’ve turned away three prospective clients this evening, and I expect the word is getting around town.

  We’ve always catered to, shall we say, a more sophisticated clientele. We have visitors from all over the Front Range, even from as far away as Denver and Cheyenne. Of course, much of our business comes from Bear Creek. We’ve been a bit more expensive than other establishments in this town, which allows us to be somewhat choosier about our clientele, while still operating at a reasonable profit.”

  I put my finger tips together.

  “I can see you’re a canny, clever, and discrete business woman, Mrs. Poole. Until you came to my office, I thought you were retired.”

  She smiled.

  “I established this business before I sold my interests in the town of Waller to Spencer Wilson, the so called ‘mayor’ of that town.”

  I nodded.

  “I’m glad you’ve arranged to complete the move quickly. There could be trouble from some of the locals.”

  She waved a hand dismissively.

  “I can take care of myself. Speaking of trouble,” she turned to Wes, “are you really a preacher? You sure don’t look like one.”

  Wes smiled and bowed slightly.

  “If this evening proves anything, it is that appearances can be deceiving. I’m here in both my capacity as a minister and in my capacity as a friend of the Sheriff.”

  Before she could ask about that, Max returned with a cart upon which were a china coffee pot, several cups on saucers, a little pitcher of cream, and a plate stacked with sandwiches.

  Seeing Max, pushing that cart, reminded me of a locomotive pushing a baby carriage.

  There was a knock on the front door.

  “If all y’all will excuse me, ah’ll just go see who that is,” Max said.

  “Thank you, Max, we can manage from here,” Mrs. Poole replied.

  After he left the room, I commented, “Max seems like a man who could sort out any unsavory types.”

  “Oh, yes, he can. We do not allow anyone to bring guns into this house, and anyone who would try to quarrel with Max would regret it—if they survived.”

  “You’re fortunate to have him, Emma,” Wes agreed. “Sometime, I would like to hear the story of how you were able to obtain his services.”

  “Perhaps, sometime I’ll have occasion to tell you, Wes,” she replied.

  Mrs. Poole poured coffee while Victoria offered us sandwiches.

  Max came back into the room.

  “Who was that, Max?” Mrs. Poole asked.

  “Young gentleman, had him an invitation, gone now,” Max said.

  “Thank you, Max.”

  He bowed his head.

  “Emma, you mentioned you didn’t allow guns in this house. I apologize for coming in here armed.” I said.

  She shrugged.

  I looked at Max.

  “Why didn’t you take our guns, Max?”

  “Got to allow for the law,” he said. “Sides, y’all don’t figure to disarm easy.”

  �
�I think you could probably disarm a grizzly bear,” I said.

  He chuckled.

  “Naw’suh, ah’d rather not, but, if’n ah had it to do, ah would sho’nuff try.”

  I believed him.

  ***

  After a bit, Mrs. Poole offered us a tour of the house.

  Downstairs, we’d already seen the sitting room. We also found a library, dining room, pantry, and kitchen. We met Ophelia in the kitchen. She was, or had been, the cook and maid for the establishment.

  Upstairs, were six bedrooms, two on each side of a central hallway at the top of the stairs, two more at each end.

  “This house is perfect,” Wes said. “We could have up to four kids per room. That would allow for twenty, leaving one room for a couple to manage the place. If we convert the library into a bed room downstairs, we could house up to twenty four kids here.”

  I could see that, but I was thinking beyond the facility.

  “It means hiring a couple to manage the place, and someone would have to help with the cooking and cleaning. The original plan was for volunteers from Bear Creek to handle those duties. North Fork is too far away for volunteers from Bear Creek to be reliable.”

  “I can help find suitable people right here in North Fork,” Mrs. Poole said.

  “Could you, Emma?” Wes asked.

  “Oh, yes, don’t forget there are a number of people up here about to become unemployed. Don’t worry; some of them are very fine people, respectable enough even for the church ladies.”

  It was Ophelia’s turn to speak up.

  “I believe I would like to stay on here. I’m a very good cook, and nobody can do laundry better’n me. I’m sorry, Miz Emma, but I don’t wanna move to Denver, and I never did like working in no cat house, no offense intended, ma’am. My man and me got us a nice little house here, and we sure do want to stay.”

  “I’m not offended. Oh, my! Well, if it can be arranged, you are welcome to stay, Ophelia. I’ll have a difficult time trying to replace you, though.”

  Wes was thinking things over.

  “You know something, John, if the churches would all pitch in some money every month, we’d be able to pay the salary for the staff and the food for the kids. Then the county wouldn’t have to come up with much funding. I believe we can make them see the sense in that. Alta Vista County would only bear the cost of some essential maintenance and repairs.”

  I nodded, looking at my watch.

  “Mrs. Poole, if you’ll excuse us, we have some business to attend to. It’s time for us to go.”

  “Certainly, gentlemen, it was lovely to see you—especially you, Wes—or should I call you reverend?”

  “I’m Wes, Emma—please, just Wes. I’ll always be Wes to you.”

  She smiled and said, “I’ll look forward to seeing you again soon then, Wes.”

  “Will we see you back in Bear Creek, Mrs. Poole?” I asked.

  “Oh yes. I have yet to draw up the papers and the agreement to present to the county. I’ll try to have it done this week or next. I still have my home in Bear Creek.

  Debbie will manage my business interests in Denver, with Max’s assistance. I can catch the train and run down there whenever I want to. I’m not planning to move any time soon.”

  When she said that last part, she was looking at Wes.

  32.

  We climbed back in the buggy and headed for the livery stable. As we approached the corner between the Gold Dust and the Oxbow, a man was walking across the street, on his way into the Gold Dust Hotel and Casino. When he glanced at us, I recognized him as being none other than Tommy Turner, the Sheriff of North Fork. He didn’t give us a second look, so I figured he hadn’t recognized me in my soggy hat and slicker, one of two men riding in a buggy.

  When we pulled up at the livery stable, I had Wes help me carry the box with our gear into the barn. I lit a lamp so we could see. He took out his pocket watch.

  “It’s just after seven o’clock, John. What’s our next move?”

  I opened the box and brought out two shotguns and the box of 12 gauge shells.

  “What is that?” Wes asked, eyeing my brand new Winchester lever action shotgun.

  “A Mormon friend of mine over in Utah, by the name of John Browning, designed this for Winchester. It holds five 12 gauge shells instead of the usual one or two. Works just like a lever action rifle. He sent it to me as a present when I got elected sheriff.

  Wes nodded his appreciation.

  “Now that the rain has stopped, people are starting to move around.”

  “I saw the local sheriff going into the Gold Dust. His name is Tommy Turner. I’d like to talk to him…” I started.

  “That would be a wise move,” Bob said, as he stepped forward out of the shadows at the back of the barn.

  “Whoa, John, it’s just me.”

  I realized I had my .45 cocked and aimed right at him. I hadn’t even thought about it. Wes gave me an appraising look, as I holstered the Colt.

  “That was not your smartest moment, Bob,” I growled.

  “No, apparently it was not. You have my sincere apologies and my thanks. Thank you for allowing me to continue living my life, so I may reflect on my error. And thank you for not firing your gun, thereby raising an alarm.”

  I was half tempted to shoot him anyway.

  “As I was saying, I want to talk to Tommy Turner, but I can’t go to him, so he’ll have to come to me. Would one of you gentlemen be good enough to go fetch him down here?”

  Bob held a hand up and interrupted again.

  “Before we get the local law involved, and as I said, I agree it’s a good idea, we need to get something straight,” he said.

  “And that is?”

  “What exactly is our intention toward the miscreants we are hunting?”

  “We find them and arrest them. Then we haul them back to Bear Creek to stand trial.”

  “I disagree.”

  “You what?”

  “I disagree, John. I believe the order of ceremonies should be as follows.”

  He started counting off on his black gloved fingers.

  “We locate the men in question. We kill the men in question. Then we go home happy, and may I add, healthy.”

  He smiled, holding up three fingers.

  I was aware of how intently Wes was watching this exchange.

  “We’ve talked about this, Bob. We’re here to enforce the law. I won’t do murder.” I said.

  “I fully understand our duty under the law, John. I would not suggest such a thing.

  However, since you bring up the subject of murder, I would point out the Thorndykes intend to murder you, upon their first opportunity. My thought was to engage them in mortal combat, intended to culminate with a satisfactory conclusion, thus preventing them from murdering you.”

  I was thinking, “Why does Bob always use twenty words when five would do?”

  I shook it off.

  “I don’t expect they’ll give us cause, Bob. The Thorndykes are cowards. They never beat anybody in a straight up fight, never even tried it. They always make sure they have the advantage over their victims. They may be murderers, but they aren’t warriors. They won’t want any part of a real fight. When we brace them, I expect they’ll fold up like a ladies’ fan. Justice will be done.”

  Bob shrugged.

  Wes spoke up.

  “And what does the Lord require of you? A man should do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with his God,” He quoted from the scripture. “While these outlaws you’re after do not seem to be men of that type, I hope we are,”

  Bob didn’t like it

  “Maybe you are, preacher, but you don’t speak for me. I believe tonight some lives will be required. I don’t intend to let mine will be one of them. Further, I observe you have chosen to arm yourself. It seems to me a tied down gun is hardly appropriate for a meek and lowly preacher. Apparently you have no intention of turning the other cheek.”

  Wes nodded.
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  “Perhaps you should think of me as a work in progress, Bob,”

  I stepped between them.

  “I still need someone to go get Sheriff Turner from the Gold Dust, without attracting any attention,”

  “I’ll go. I was able to observe the gentleman while I was at the Jubilee House earlier,” Bob said.

  I glanced at Bob.

  “I guess you didn’t see the Thorndykes there?”

  He shook his head.

  “Be careful. We don’t want anyone but Sheriff Turner to know we’re here—or why,”

  After Bob disappeared into the night, Wes again suggested we should pray.

  So, we did.

  It was nearly thirty minutes before the barn door slid open again.

  Sheriff Tommy Turner stepped in, followed by Bob.

  “What is this about, Sage?” Tommy demanded, “Why all the secrecy?”

  “Hello, Tommy. I see you’ve met Bob, let me introduce Wes Spradlin. Wes, this is Tommy Turner, the sheriff of North Fork.”

  Meeting the famous gunman was unnerving to Tommy. It showed on his face.

  “What the hell is going on?” Was all he could manage to sputter.

  “Tommy, we have reason to believe the men who robbed the bank in Bear Creek are here in North Fork. We’re looking for four men who would have come into town yesterday. Did you happen to notice four rough-looking, armed men come into town yesterday?”

  He looked at each of us, and what he saw on our faces convinced him to tell the truth.

  “Yeah, I know the men you’re talking about. You know I don’t allow the carrying of guns in town. Those boys came into town and went straight to the Gold Dust. I didn’t see them come in, but one of my men told me four men carrying guns were over there.”

  “Are they still there?” I asked.

  “I saw Henry and Harvey in the saloon at the Gold Dust, John,” Bob stated. “I didn’t see Homer, though, and I don’t know for sure what the fourth man, Tom Russel, looks like. He may be with Homer somewhere. They could be upstairs with a couple of women or over at the Oxbow. We haven’t looked in there yet.”

  “Yeah, two of um are still in the Gold Dust,” Tommy confirmed.

  “Are they still armed, Tommy?”