by Paul Lederer
‘I’ll report to Carmalita. You boys might see us over at the adobe later for a little family gathering, and for our business chat.’
‘That went well enough,’ Chad said as they walked the boardwalks toward FitzRoy’s.
‘As well as could be expected,’ Starr agreed. ‘In a lot of towns we would have had to steal ourselves a couple of horses and beat it for the desert.’
‘I suppose so. I told you Glen Walker was a good friend.’
Starr was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Yes, it seems so, but Chad – what does he do, exactly? Who is he?’
Chad found himself stumped for a moment. ‘I don’t know exactly. He has some sort of pull in this town, but I don’t know him well enough to answer your questions.’
‘For the time being,’ Starr said cheerfully, ‘I don’t suppose it matters. I was just wondering.’ They had reached the FitzRoy saloon and Starr held the door open for Chad to pass through.
The interior of the saloon was broader than they had expected. There were only a dozen or so men there in this heat, sleeves rolled up, heads hanging down, looking desert-beat although all of the windows had now been opened in anticipation of the evening breeze. They found a table near one of the western windows and ordered a pitcher of beer.
As they settled in to wait for the evening coolness, Starr told tales of his rambling, exciting life. Exaggerated or not, which made no difference to Chad, they were entertaining. As for Chad, he had not much to offer in terms of daring exploits. His life in the Wild West had only begun a day ago, and Starr had been present at its two most exciting moments – the stage robbery attempt and the shootout with Domino Jones and his friend, in neither of which Chad had actively participated, to be honest. In fact if he had not happened to pick Starr up out on the desert, Chad knew, he would probably be dead by now.
‘There’s one,’ Starr said as he paused to pour himself a fresh glass of beer. The shadows were long outside and merging softly inside the saloon. Chad didn’t catch Starr’s meaning until he followed his eyes and saw a tall redhead with a full figure leaning against the bar. She wore a red dress with black lace at the cuffs and hem. Starr was gazing that way, his eyes slightly glassy, slightly hungry.
Chad said, ‘I prefer them—’
‘I know – you prefer them a little fresher, a little younger. But, son, breaking them in is much overrated, take my word for it. Your Candida, for example, is not my type at all, if I ever gave you cause to concern yourself about that. She’s definitely the type a young pup would crave, but not an old dog like me,’ said Starr who could not have been more than four or five years older than Chad Dempster – or perhaps he was much older than Chad in terms of experience.
‘Excuse me,’ Starr said, rising abruptly. ‘I think I’ve just met an old friend I’ve never seen before.’ With that he strolled over to where the redhead was standing and struck up an immediate conversation, which Chad would have found impossible. By the time the beer was gone, Starr and the lady were deep in close communication, her smile bright and luminous, several drinks between them. The man would not be returning to the table, Chad knew.
After half an hour he rose, nodding toward Starr, who did not notice him, and went out into the cool purple twilight of Las Palmas. Chad had had enough beer, enough excitement, and not nearly enough rest. He started on his way home, keeping his eyes on the shadows that lurked in the hidden places.
He thought of stopping for a bite to eat, but why, when there were two superb cooks at the house who enjoyed preparing meals for him? He shuffled slowly toward the house, enjoying the relative coolness of the evening. Only one person passed him, a kid on a plow horse who waved a hand merrily, a hound dog following in his dusty wake. Las Palmas wasn’t such a bad town, Chad decided.
A buggy stood in front of the adobe house when he reached it. Lamps burned within. The door and windows had been flung wide, of course. The solitary elm tree in the front yard stood motionless in the breathless night, like a weary, shaggy ghost, black against the starry sky. Chad wiped off his boots on the steps, removed his hat and entered the house. He found Glen Walker standing with his back to the cold fireplace, a short whiskey in his hand. On one of the sofas sat the banker, Sam Pettit. On the facing sofa Candida perched beside a woman who had to be her cousin, Carmalita, wearing a daring dark-blue dress with a plunging neckline.
Glen Walker seemed to be watching her with pride as Chad glanced that way. The two cousins were very much alike, but whereas Carmalita stared back boldly, Candida looked away, seemingly embarrassed by her cousin’s costume and the way it caught the men’s eyes.
‘Glad you made it!’ Glen Walker said warmly. ‘I was afraid you and your friend might be out making a night of it.’
‘That was enough for me,’ Chad Dempster said. ‘I’m not much for the night life.’
The banker cleared his throat and looked meaningfully at Walker, as though time were being wasted. ‘The matter we have come about.…’ he prompted.
‘Yes. Carmalita, why don’t you two be good guests and see if the aunts need any help in the kitchen?’ Both women, raised in the tradition that men must be left alone to discuss their business, rose and made their way to the kitchen. Glen Walker watched them go, a smile on his handsome face. He turned to Chad.
‘Now, then, Mr Dempster, would you like a drink of whiskey – I guarantee you that is the prime goods. None of that saloon rot.’
‘I think not,’ Chad said, seating himself where Candida had been sitting. He imagined he could still feel her warmth on the cushion. ‘I’m not much of a drinking man.’
‘Fine,’ Walker said, refilling his own glass from a fancy-looking bottle. ‘That’s a good recommendation for you.’
A recommendation? For what, Chad wondered?
‘Let’s get on with it,’ Sam Pettit urged, looking at his silver pocket watch. ‘I have a meeting with the mayor in less than an hour. I’d like to have this all settled by then.’
‘All right, Sam,’ Glen Walker replied with a show of chafed patience. He sat down facing Chad and said:
‘We want you to be our town marshal, Mr Dempster.’
‘You what?’ Chad said. He cocked his head like a dog, not sure that he had heard the man clearly.
‘We want you for town marshal,’ Glen Walker said again. ‘You’ve seen the man who presently holds the job – Ben Cody. He no longer has the ability or the willingness to perform his duties in a satisfactory manner. Is that your judgement as well, Pettit?’ Pettit nodded emphatically yet doubtfully.
‘The job is yours,’ the banker told Chad with the same hint of doubtfulness in his voice.
Chad rose to his feet and spread his arms, ‘I thank you men … but I have no experience as a lawman, no knowledge of the town codes, I’m not much of a gun hand.’
‘You can learn as you go along,’ Glen Walker said smoothly. ‘That’s the way we all learn our jobs, is it not?’
‘We just need someone who is eager to do the job well,’ Pettit put in. ‘You’ve already demonstrated your willingness and ability – after all you did take the cash transfer through to Diablo despite being attacked along the way. Right here in Las Palmas, you managed to take care of two of our local toughs as they tried to do you harm – Domino Jones and Charlie Burnett. You have what it takes, son.’
‘Do I?’ Chad said, not quite aloud. He knew that his performance in the episodes mentioned had not been as glorious as a simple reading of the reports might indicate. Raising his voice, he told the two men, ‘I hate to take another man’s livelihood away from him.’
‘Cody?’ Glen Walker laughed. ‘He’d likely be relieved to find out that he will no longer have to drag himself out of bed in the morning. He’ll have a small pension, Chad. Enough to get by on.’
‘Not that lazy Deke!’ the banker protested.
‘No, of course not. He’s able-bodied.’ To Chad who did not know who they were talking about, he explained. ‘Deke, Deacon Forge, is Ben Cody’s nephew an
d the deputy marshal. He’ll probably be just as relieved as Ben Cody. It will mean he won’t have to cut his nights spent gambling at the Clipper saloon short so that he can get a few hours’ sleep before he goes on duty.’
‘You will need a deputy,’ Sam Pettit told Chad. ‘What about that young friend of yours? He seems to be a cool customer.’
‘Starr?’ Chad’s head was reeling. This was all happening just a bit too fast for him. ‘I can ask him, but I don’t know if he would be interested.’
‘Is he in a hurry to get somewhere? Another job waiting for him?’ Glen Walker asked. At the shake of Chad’s head, Walker said, ‘He’ll be interested, then. It’s a good spot for a man. Long-term employment. If you don’t want to take him on,’ Walker added with a shrug, ‘that’s up to you, but it seems to me folks are generally happiest working with people they already know.’
They both seemed to have assumed that Chad had accepted their offer. He supposed he had. He was through with traveling. He had made his way to Las Palmas and meant to stay for a while – he saw Candida’s shadowy form pass the doorway, carrying a platter. She was enough reason to try it for a while. And he was still obligated to Glen Walker. With nowhere else to go, with no money, what better opportunity was likely to come up? And he could help out Byron Starr at the same time. The truth was, he would feel safer, more sure of himself with a man like Starr at his side. Everyone who was a lawman had to have his first day on the job, and he had no other skills. Only his quiet ambition to be someone … Candida crossed the doorway again … someone respectable.
‘All right. I’m your man,’ he told Glen Walker.
Chad Dempster awoke slowly the following morning. The coolness of the room bordered on being chilly. He sat up groggily, rubbing his head. Glancing at the bed across the room, he saw that Starr had not made it home the night before. He had not really expected that he would.
As Chad rose, yawning, to his feet, a surge of excitement began to bubble up inside of him. He was a working man! Not only that, he was to be the town marshal of Las Palmas. Most of his doubts and fears were washed away with that sudden awareness. Or had he imagined it, dreamed it?
No. He sat on his bed again and reviewed the conversation he had had with Glen Walker and Sam Pettit the night before. All that was needed was the mayor’s approval, and Pettit seemed to feel that that was in the bag. Pettit’s opinion carried a lot of weight in this town as the guardian of the purse strings.
Chad dressed, whistling as he stepped into his pants, slipped his shirt on and buttoned it up before closing the window to his room in deference to the local habit of keeping the cool of night locked down within the adobe houses for as long as possible. He washed his face in the basin provided and sniffed the air. The aunts would already be up and cooking. Now was the time of day to do that, before the angry sun crested the horizon.
There was a light tap on his door, causing Chad’s head to swivel that way. He thought that it must be Starr returning, shamefaced, but Starr was not the sort to rap gently. He would have simply swung the door wide and entered. Frowning, Chad went to the door, and swung it inward.
‘I am sorry – I must talk to you,’ Candida said in a whispery tone of voice. ‘I know it is early, but I heard you moving about.’ Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders, brushed to a high gloss, and she wore a nightdress and wrapper. She was barefoot.
‘What is it?’ Chad asked with some alarm. There was fear in the girl’s eyes.
‘Let me come in,’ Candida said, ‘and shut the door behind me. It is my cousin, Carmalita and her friend. She tells me all; she and I are like sisters.…’
‘Come in and tell me,’ Chad said, frowning. Despite her general lack of a heavy accent, she pronounced the word sisters as ‘seesters’, something Chad found charming in an indefinable way. Candida was charming in other ways that could be well-defined. Smooth skin, shiny dark hair, well-formed petite body and large Spanish eyes … unhappy Spanish eyes.
‘Sit down,’ Chad gestured. Candida glanced at the bed, back at the wooden chair which stood in the corner and took the chair, sitting there with her hands folded on her lap, her face turned down. There might have been the sparkle of a tear in the corner of one of her eyes.
‘What is it, Candida?’
Her eyes were huge and sad as she looked up at him through the shadowed morning light.
‘It is this man, this Glen Walker,’ she told him. ‘I think you must run away from Las Palmas. Now! Or you will have to kill him.’
FIVE
Studying the girl who sat in his bedroom, Chad could see the worry on her face. There was a slight trembling of her hands. She was deeply troubled, that was certain, but of what was she so afraid?
Chad said softly, ‘You must have taken something wrong, Candida. There’s no reason for you to be upset. Glen Walker and I.…’
It was then that the door to the room burst in and Starr, looking a little the worse for wear after his night on the town, entered carrying his saddle. He looked at Candida with a smile on his lips. She rose from the chair and darted past him into the hallway.
‘It seems that you had a night, too,’ Starr said, dropping his saddle to the floor as he perched on his bed. Chad felt a little offended by the remark.
‘She just came by a few minutes ago to discuss Glen Walker,’ he said defensively.
‘The same reason that I’m here,’ Byron Starr said, his smiling widening. He tipped his hat back. ‘Walker drifted into the FitzRoy late last night and told me what had happened. He said you wanted me hired on as your deputy. For which I thank you, Chad. I can’t believe it. Yesterday I hadn’t a prospect. And now!’
‘I guess they decided they didn’t want Marshal Cody in office any longer.’
‘Well, Chad, you’ve met the man. He didn’t strike me as a whirlwind. Oh, well, out with the old, in with the new – that’s the way everything goes in life, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose so,’ Chad said glumly.
‘Man, you should be grinning from ear to ear! What were your prospects when you came to Las Palmas?’
‘Few and dim,’ Chad answered.
‘Well, cheer up, son! You know what else Walker told me last night? He’s going to give us each an advance on our pay so we can buy some horses. Said he couldn’t have his lawmen on foot.’
‘His lawmen?’
‘That’s just a manner of speaking, Chad. This is no time to look these gift horses in the mouth. Not that I intend to. I saw a spry little sorrel at the stable that I wouldn’t mind giving a try. We’ll go back over there and see what else they have for sale.’
‘I suppose that’s an idea.’
‘Sure it is! Then we find Glen Walker again and make sure everything has been finalized with the mayor. Then we can go take a look at your new office and start figuring out this law business.’
Starr had taken a tin of saddle soap from his pack and was beginning to rub his leather with it to soften it up. He said, ‘You should use some of this on your gunbelt and holster, Chad. They look like what they are – store-new and stiff.’
Both men made a pass at having breakfast which was huevos rancheros with freshly made buttered tortillas, but both were eager to get on with the new day. Chad had hoped to meet Candida at the table, but he was disappointed.
But as the two men tramped out of the door of the adobe and started toward town he turned his head once and saw a sad-eyed girl watching him from a window. He would have waved, but there was no point in it.
The sorrel Starr had admired was a fine, leggy four-year-old, which he took for a short ride before purchasing. Chad had practiced a speech to deliver to the one-eyed stable hand, but the man held up a hand.
‘I heard all about it from Glen Walker earlier. ‘You’ll be wanting a horse, too, Marshal, is that right? Take your time looking around.’
‘Did you hear what he called you?’ Starr whispered as they walked the length of the stable and went out to survey the horses in the paddoc
k beyond.
‘Yes, I did,’ Chad said. He ran an eye over the available stock in the horse pen, and yet a part of him was turned inward, wondering. He asked Starr, ‘Doesn’t this all seem a little sudden to you, Starr?’
‘Yes, but this is a sudden place, a sudden time. Towns go up overnight; the next time you pass by they’re only fit for packrats and ghosts. A dusty little town is withering away and the railroad decides to build a spur to it and suddenly you find a city there. Some old prospector who can’t even feed himself happens upon the mother lode and the next time you see him, he’s a millionaire in a dress suit. It’s a sudden time, but I’m willing to catch a ride and take my chances with it. So should you be, Chad. Who knows when the next opportunity will present itself?’
After looking over the horses, Chad finally selected a heavy-footed buckskin. When he took it for a ride the animal moved eagerly, yet smoothly. If he were forced to do any long riding, this was the sort of horse he would want under him. ‘I’ll also need a saddle, the one he’s wearing is fine – if that’s all right with you,’ he told the stable hand.
‘It’s fine by me. It’s all profit, and Mr Walker said to give you boys what you needed.’
‘I suppose the next thing is to get over to the marshal’s office and take a look around – Walker might still be asleep. Do you want to just walk up the street?’
‘Hell, no!’ Starr answered. ‘I’ve done enough walking lately to last me for some time. Let’s take the ponies.’
So, riding the already active main street of Las Palmas, they swung down in front of the marshal’s office and tied their new mounts loosely to the hitch rail.
‘Here it is, son! Home,’ Starr said loudly.
‘I hope they didn’t leave anyone behind in the cells,’ Chad replied. Starr halted on the boardwalk, hands on his hips and looked steadily at Chad.
‘If they did, we’ll handle matters. You are the one for worrying about things that might never happen, aren’t you?’
‘I suppose,’ Chad answered with a smile. ‘Crack the door and let’s see what kind of a mess they’ve left us.’