by Paul Lederer
‘Glen Walker?’
‘He’s dead,’ Starr told him, trying to stanch the blood with his bandanna.
‘Thanks, Starr … I knew you’d get him.’
‘I didn’t get him, Chad. You did. I guess that practice paid off in the end.’
TWELEVE
The sun peering in the window awakened Chad Dempster. He blinked into the light. He had to get to work. He then realized that the sun was much too high. How late was he? Poor Starr would be left holding down the office. He started to swing his feet to the floor and found that he could not move them. The pain that followed that attempt brought back with it the memory of the alley fight, the attempt to save the town. But the memory was spotty. He could not remember all that had gone on, so he closed his eyes again and lay back, his half-dreams haunted by shadowy men with guns.
Sometime later he heard the door to his bedroom squeak open and he squinted up to see Candida standing there, a questioning look on her face.
‘You know me?’ she asked.
‘Of course I do,’ Chad answered with a smile.
‘I am sorry. This is the first time you have known me,’ she said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘All of this week you did not know anyone who came to see you.’
‘A week!’ Chad said, startled to alertness. ‘It can’t have been.’
‘Yes, it has been. You would eat – eagerly – and sit up to drink water, but you did not know anybody.’ She sat on the foot of his bed. The sunlight gleamed on her raven-black hair, highlighting it. ‘You were shot very bad.’
‘I thought you’d run away from me,’ Chad said, ‘when I didn’t see you here.’
‘I thought of running away. I was staying away because I did not wish to see what was bound to happen to you. I thought it would make it easier if I did not see you dead.’ She shook her head. ‘But it did not.’
‘Now … will I be seeing you again, Candida? Or will you go?’ he asked weakly.
‘I will stay,’ she said, rising. ‘Then we must do some very serious talking about what we should do.’
Chad nodded, but his head fell back again and his eyelids closed, too heavy to hold open. He tried to remember what Candida had said, what the implications might have been, but he could not hold onto the thoughts, and he fell away back into the world where masked gunmen appeared from every direction, firing their pistols at him.
Later that afternoon, or was it the following afternoon? – time had ceased to have any meaning for him – Chad awakened to find Byron Starr sitting on a reversed wooden chair beside his bed, hat tilted back on his head.
‘I heard you were awake and alert, so I thought I’d swing by,’ Starr said.
‘I’m awake,’ Chad said. ‘As far as being alert, well, I don’t know about that. How’s everything in town?’
‘Better, much better. Things have calmed down considerably in Las Palmas.’
‘Glad to hear it. I’m sorry I can’t give you any help just now. You must need it.’
‘We’re doing all right,’ Starr said. ‘I got me a new deputy. No experience. He just stepped down from the stage in Las Palmas, said he’d stopped here because he had run out of money and couldn’t travel on any further. I told him I’d give him a try. Didn’t even have a gun or know how to shoot one. I gave him a few tips. I think he’ll work out fine.’
‘Did you give him the night shift?’ Chad asked.
‘Yes, I did.’ Starr smiled. ‘Peggy is through with all that night work. We’ve got a little room in a house off Nopal Street. Still saving to buy a house of our own.’
‘Sounds like you’re doing fine,’ Chad said. ‘I guess we can go to eight-hour shifts once I’m up again.’
‘What in the world do you need with two jobs?’ Starr asked, smiling again.
‘I don’t get you,’ Chad said, forcing himself to sit up straighter in bed.
‘No one told you?’ Starr asked. ‘Maybe they did and you were too groggy to understand.’
‘Understand what?’ Chad’s mockingbird had come back to perch on the ledge and cock its head, looking in at the two men.
‘Why, Chad, you were elected mayor of Las Palmas in the recent election. Reg Hicks told me that he had to put the ballots together quickly, and he put you down only to fill out the choice of candidates.
‘The thing was, everyone knew your name, about the fight in Lone Pine, about the shooting of Domino Jones, the saloon brawl when you took out Deacon Forge and Skinny Jim by yourself, about your part in trying to shut down Glen Walker and his cronies. Why, you were swept in to office. You’re a regular local hero, Chad.’
‘Half of what people know about me is malarkey,’ Chad grumbled.
‘Yes,’ Starr said, rising. ‘That’s what’s called politics. Anyway, the day before yesterday I saw former-Mayor Swanson and Judge Lambert climbing aboard the afternoon stage. I waved them on their way. It was a fine feeling.’
‘Really, we owe all this to Reg Hicks. Without him none of this would have happened. I’ll have to thank him.’
‘As soon as he gets back, I’m sure he’d appreciate that,’ Starr said.
‘Gets back? What did he do, go up to the territorial capital about matters?’
‘Not exactly. It’s more of a pleasure trip. He and his wife left on their honeymoon.’
‘He got married! To whom? Anyone I might know?’
‘It was Carmalita,’ Starr said with a grin. ‘It’s amazing, but women like her always seem to land on their feet.’
‘Carmalita! How could…?’ But Chad had already heard enough to absorb and come to terms with, and his eyes were very heavy. He hardly heard the door close when Starr slipped out of the room.
One month later most of Las Palmas came to see their mayor and Candida wed at the small church. Marshal Starr and Peggy Kimball were in attendance, as were Reg Hicks, the newly appointed judge, with his wife, Carmalita. The aunts in Spanish costumes sat solemnly in the front pew. Ben Cody had made the trip over from his house along with Art Spykes, a hard-eyed, sun-toasted man. Kennedy and Walsh from the city council showed up along with the owners of the Clipper, Silver Eagle and FitzRoy saloons. The banker, Sam Pettit and his brother, Walter, from Diablo were there. There were so many others from around town that there was standing room only in the back of the church.
Chad was still feeling a little stiff and awkward in his movements, but he had insisted that they follow through with the wedding plans. On his way up the steps to the altar he stumbled a little until Candida caught his arm and straightened him up. There was not the slightest snicker from those assembled as Tanglefoot gathered himself and continued on his way to stand up before the preacher.
About the Author
Paul Lederer spent much of his childhood and young adult life in Texas. He worked for years in Asia and the Middle East for a military intelligence arm. Under his own name, he is best known for Tecumseh and the Indian Heritage Series, which focuses on American Indian life. He believes that the finest Westerns reflect ordinary people caught in unusual and dangerous circumstances, trying their best to act with honor.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2012 by Logan Winters
Cover design by Michel Vrana
ISBN: 978-1-4804-8815-1
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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