Titles by David R Lewis
Nosferati Series
BLOODTRAIL
BLOODLINE
Crockett Series
FEAR OF THE FATHER
GRAVE PROMISE
SITUATIONAL FLEXIBILITY
ABDUCTED
WITNESS REJECTION
UNDERCOVER
BEHIND THE BADGE
SIX CUT KILL
Trail Series
DEER RUN TRAIL
NODAWAY TRAIL
CALICO TRAIL
PAYBACK TRAIL
OGALLALA TRAIL
KILLDEER TRAIL
CUTTHROAT TRAIL
GLORY TRAIL
DAKOTA TRAIL
Stand Alones:
COWBOYS AND INDIANS
ONCE UPON AGAIN
INCIDENTS AMONG THE SAVAGES
WRITER’S BLOCK
ENDLESS JOURNEY (nonfiction)
Preview of FEAR OF THE FATHER
by David R Lewis
Read the author’s notes and first 3 chapters of FEAR OF THE FATHER at the end of this book.
DAKOTA TRAIL
By
David R. Lewis
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2018 David R Lewis
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally; and any resemblance to people, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
All Rights Reserved
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. No portion of this book may be reproduced without the consent of the author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is dedicated to all my faithful fans in Tennesse,
especially Joe and Randy.
Thank you for all of your encouragement and support.
PROLOGUE
That winter warn’t terrible bad. The only real trouble that come from it was it got too warm now an’ then for snow an’ would rain instead. A course that rain would freeze for a spell, once it got colder late in the day, an’ the trails an’ roads would git to be some covered in ice. Freight wagons an’ stagecoaches had a heck of a time with it, an’ supplies come to be some short now an’ then. My deputy, Emory Nail, slipped on a slick boardwalk, fell, an’ broke his wrist an’ two fingers about a week afore Christmas. His left hand an’ forearm was all splinted up to near the end a February, but he come through it purty good with only a kindly bent little finger to show for it an’ some aches an’ pains whenever it come to rain or git fair cold.
Like I tolt ya last time we jawed, Miss Harmony had our new baby without no trouble to speak of, an’ we had another member in the family. Little Melody was some differn’t than Bill was at that age. She was quieter than he’d been an’ didn’t fuss near as much; but Lord, once she made up her mind to, she could rear back an’ rattle the windas. Even when she was still smaller than a bag a beans, she had her momma’s eyes an’ could study on whoever was holdin’ her terrible serious like. It kindly seemed to me, sometimes, like she knowed things none a the rest of us did. That wore off as she come to grow a little bit; but for the first couple a months, I woulda liked to have been able to ask her about it.
She warn’t short on family none. Miz Clary appointed herself watchdog just like she’d done with Little Bill, stoppin’ by quite a bit to make sure Melody hadn’t got dropped on her head or left out in the rain or somethin’, an’ was gittin’ everthin’ she might need. Arliss the gunsmith took to her as much or more than he had to Bill, an’ so did her Uncle Marion, both of ‘em handlin’ her like she was made outa glass an’ sugar. Her granddaddy just plum fell in love with her, an’ worked hard at givin’ Bill as much attention as he did Melody. Bill would study on her, standin’ by the cradle an’ watchin’ her some serious, now an’ then lettin’ her grab his finger an’ holt onto it for a little bit.
I guess she was about two weeks old when I carried Melody out to where Bill was settin’ on the davenport an’ eased her down in his lap, makin’ sure he knowed how to rest her little head an’ such. Bill was as careful as he could be an’ paid attention to what I showed him right smart. I took a set beside him an’ he hung onto her for a time. As he looked up at me, I was kindly got. They was a difference in the boy’s eyes.
“I won’t never let nobody hurt her,” he said. “Not never. You got my word on it, Marshal.”
My Lord. That rocked me back on my heels. I excused myself an’ stepped into the kitchen so Bill wodden see them tears that was runnin’ down my face. Standin’ just inside the doorway was Miss Harmony, in the same condition as me. We hung onto each other for a little bit, swayin’ back an’ forth as was our way.
CHAPTER ONE
Spring come kindly early that year an’ was fair wet. That was good for the stock an’ such, there bein’ thick grass an’ the like. Plus, gardens got in early an’ done good, too. Miss Harmony put out more beans than was usual an’, much agin Bill’s better judgment, about twice as many rows a carrots as she had planted the year afore. That boy felt about carrots about the same as I felt about okra, I reckon. Harmony made him eat some carrots anyway ‘cause I reckon they tasted fine to her. But I just couldn’t do it to the boy. Ever time he’d git that look on his face, I’d think about okra. If Miss Harmony was off tendin’ to the baby or somethin’ an’ not in whatcha might call the immediate vicinity, I’d shovel most a his carrots onto my plate. To tell ya the truth, I never cared much for carrots, neither, but I could stand ‘em a fair bit easier than ol’ Bill could.
More civilization come to Deer Run that spring. The railroad actually kept its word an’ run a couple lines over to just outside a town a little ways to deliver freight an’ passengers, or pick up folks who was in need a transportation, an’ take ‘em out on the main line.
It was early May, I guess, when the mayor a Deer Run, Elmo McCoy, come walkin’ to the office an’ took a set with me out on the boardwalk. I thought some a Elmo. If ya recall, it was him that owned the dry goods store an’ had kindly set me on the way to bein’ Deer Run’s town law in the first place.
“Ruben,” he said, “Deer Run is on the boom some. We got two schoolhouses in town now, the railroad, and three churches. It’s time we had a proper jail.”
I grinned at him.
“You afeared that the kids an’ the Christians is fixin’ to join up an’ go on the rampage an’ steal a train or somethin’, are ya Elmo?”
He looked down the street an’ sucked on a tooth for a minute.
“Some a the citizens think we need to get more civilized,” he said. “They believe the shed out back a the office that’s built outa them old railroad ties ain’t no place worthy for a growin’ community to put lawbreakers. Unfortunately, it seems they have brought their opinion to me.”
I grinned. I couldn’t help it.
“Missus McCoy doin’ alright, is she?” I asked him.
“Dammit, Rube,” he said, “you know how Mavis can be. That woman gits a idea stuck in her noodle, an’ you cain’t git it out from between her ears with a crowbar, a pitchfork, an’ a damn post hole digger. If she and some a them other Baptist bunch a females was to join forces with a mess a them heathen Methodist women an’ Church of Christ hens, it could get to be awful. If them women was to unite to raise funds for the project, things could get some tedious around here. Just t
hinkin’ about it keeps me up of a night.”
“It’ll take a bunch a money,” I tolt him. “If she wants whatcha might call a proper jail, it’ll have to be made outa brick an’ such. Brick is a damn site more expensive than wood. I can drive a nail Elmo, but I ain’t no brick layer. I reckon Verlon could make the cell doors an’ them barred windas an’ such, but that ain’t gonna be cheap, neither. That’s a mess a labor, let alone materials. She wanna tear the whole office down an’ start from scratch, does she?”
“Mavis figgers it should be built out back with a short covered walkway between here and there for bad weather.”
“How many cells?”
“Two, she says. Each one eight by eight feet with two cots, fronted by about a four by sixteen foot space for a woodstove, firewood, and a spot for a table to hold a crock for water storage and such. She figgers on two windows in each cell with heavy shutters that can be closed from the outside in cold or rainy weather.”
“It is gonna take some money,” I said, “an’ I ain’t over excited about her floor plan. I doan know how much bricks cost nor iron or steel for the bars an’ doors an’ such, nor how much of a foundation is gonna be needed, but it would have to be some stout. Brick is shore enough a mess heavier than wood. I bet it could cost eight or nine hunnerd dollars or better to git the materials for just the walls and foundation, let alone everthing else we’d need afore it’d git actually built an’ finished. It’d be terrible expensive.”
“Good grief,” Elmo said, his eyebrows headin’ north. “Thousands a dollars.”
“I wodden be surprised. She really want ta do this, does she? Git a mess a women all riled up an’ spend a pile a money?”
Elmo shook his head.
“You know how far down the road Mavis can git when she needs to be righteous and her hackles is up. She loves to be a leader. If she gets them minds a theirs all goin’ in the same direction, them women could come to be a force to reckon with.”
I nodded.
“If they got that done, that’d make the bunch feel some powerful. You reckon they’d git after the whores next?” I asked him.
“Hell, Ruben, it wodden surprise me one bit. A herd like that can be hard to stop once they get in the middle of a stampede. If she got them women organized and was to run off them fallen angels, I bet liquor and saloons would be next in line. Then, she’d want to get rid a firearms in the city limits. God knows what it could lead to. Mavis could start herself up a terrible avalanche of morality. As a rule, morality can sure enough dry up a revenue stream.”
“Ya reckon we’ll all havta wear string ties, polished shoes, an’ keep our hair cut?” I asked.
“Dammit Rube,” he said, “this here could get right serious. Liquor and saloons and whores brings a lot of money to the city every year. Deer Run relies on a bunch a sources for revenue to keep things goin’. If Mavis gets this bit in her teeth there ain’t no tellin’ where the hell this might stop. I have known that woman for over thirty years, and I ain’t never been able to even slow her down once she got on the roll.”
To tell ya the truth, Elmo seemed kindly desperate to me. It tickled me quite a bit an’ I had a time not grinnin’ or somethin’. I could understand how he felt. Mavis was a short woman about as broad as she was tall. I’d seen her full a righteousness a time or two, an’ I had never been foolish enough to stand in her road. She was whatcha call civic-minded, an’ she craved attention quite a bit. She got things done, though. It was her that handled the old folks fund from all the churches. It was her that organized the Forth a July celebration, her that got the roofs built over the boardwalk in the bidness district, an’ I doan know what all. I was studyin’ on the situation some when Elmo turned to me.
“I don’t know what to do, Rube,” he said. “You got any ideas?”
“Well, I know this,” I tolt him, “if’n a bull is comin’ at ya, fightin’ with him is stupid an’ tryin’ to outrun him doan make much sense. What a fella needs ta do is redirect that bull an’ git him aimed at somethin’ else.”
Elmo kindly made a face at me.
“What?” he said.
“Look at the main street, here,” I said. “We’ve had us a fair wet spring, an’ it ain’t been much more than a mud hole since late March. We need a mess a rock an’ gravel an’ such brung in an’ spread so ever person an’ horse that has to come down the street, or across it, ain’t carryin’ sticky clay with ‘em wherever they go. Ladies doan care much for dirt hangin’ on the hem a they skirts, ya know. Plus, a deep bed a rock an’ gravel would cut down on summer dust an’ slick winter ice. Two or three blocks a good surface could make a big differnce to the main street. I believe that not too terrible far from here there is quite a bit a gravel bein’ took outa some a the feeder cricks that run toward the Gasconade River.”
Elmo kindly peered at me for a minute, then come to smile some.
“Let’s go a little farther,” I said. “We got more people an’ more stores an’ such than a few years ago. We need three or four more hitch rails an’ water troughs for the horses. We got more places that need new boardwalks an’ roofin’ for ‘em. Some a the bidnesses is lookin’ a little shabby. Maybe Deer Run could match, dollar for dollar, what it took for some places to git new paint or trim a some kind. Could be the town might havta come up with a little more tax to git some a that done, but a strong and determined woman could lead the charge. If’n she done that, her an’ the ladies that help her would git the credit an’ shine out quite a bit by workin’ so hard on they civic duty. Ain’t nobody gonna show off a brick jailhouse much, but a cleaner an’ well rocked an’ graveled main street with smart lookin’ businesses would be a hell of a accomplishment. Plus, they wodden be no fightin’ with the whores or the saloons. Git rid a the ladies an’ the liquor an’ a pile a money Deer Run usually gits would wind up goin’ somewheres else.”
“That makes a lot a sense, Rube,” Elmo said, grinnin’ quite a bit.
“This plan for a jailhouse common knowledge, is it?” I asked him.
“I doan believe so,” Elmo tolt me. “I think Mavis still has to study on it some. She don’t like startin’ nothin’ ‘til she’s got it all worked up to her expectations.”
“She in the store today or tomorra, is she?”
“Both days,” Elmo said.
“Let me talk it over with Miss Harmony. Could be, she might stop by your store an’ plant a seed for us.”
Elmo got up an’ shook hands with me. “Good idea, Ruben. Let me know what happens.”
Miss Harmony warn’t terrible fond a saloons an’ whores, but she was whatcha might call a realist an’ knowed what could happen to the town if some of the biggest attractions was to go away. When I tolt her what was goin’ on, Harmony didn’t just git a kick out of it; she got a little gleam in her eye. The next day she went down an’ visited with Mavis McCoy some. Not only did Miss Harmony plant a seed, she dug a furrow an’ carried water.
CHAPTER TWO
Mavis McCoy went after the main street project like a ‘coon takin’ after a crawdad. It warn’t but about two weeks later we had three or four wagon loads a gravel a day comin’ in, with several ol’ boys unloadin’ an’ spreadin’ all that fresh rock durn near four blocks up an’ down the way. It took almost two weeks to git all the gravel an’ such that we needed, an’ them workers was kindly a rough bunch. After Emory Nail knocked one a them boys out an’ throwed two or three in jail for disorderly conduct, they settled down quite a bit. Emory warn’t a terrible big man an’ had kindly a quiet an’ soft voice, but he could git some tough if the situation was to call for it.
A lot a bidness owners jumped in an’ got to paintin’ on they places an’ cleanin’ up an’ such. By the time what Mavis called the Beautification Project was done, Deer Run’s bidness section of the main street was lookin’ fair smart. I even got back in the carpenter trade for a spell myself, puttin’ up some new trim on the eaves a the Methodist church. The preacher there was a fella by the na
me a Mathew Ford, an’ I liked him quite a bit. He come in to replace Clayton Beech. Clayton had to give up his postin’ in Deer Run an’ git back over by St. Louis ‘cause his father passed on, an’ his mother warn’t in good health an’ needed to be took care of some. Mathew was a lot like Clayton. He never did use God to threaten nobody with eternal wrath or nothin’ like that, but spent his efforts tryin’ to help folks be kind to each other an’ make it through the day. He fussed at me some, pickin’ on me now an’ then to git me to come to church and such. I never went, but him an’ me did go catfishin’ a couple a times, an’ I enjoyed his company. Mathew had a wife by the name a Sharon, who was about our age an’ as nice as she could be.
Miz Sharon an’ Miss Harmony come to be friends, an’ Harmony commenced to goin’ to church now an’ then. I figgerd it was more of a social event an’ not terrible religious as far as she was concerned, but it done her good to make a new friend an’ git out some. Mathew an’ Sharon didn’t have no children of they own, an’ Miz Sharon shore thought quite a bit a little Melody. I tolt Harmony we was gonna havta put locks on all the windas so she didn’t try to make off with our baby in the dead a night. Bill heer’d that comment an’ got some disturbed that somebody might be fixin’ to swipe his little sister. I talked it over with him an’ settled him down, but the little fella was durn near on the fight over it. It made me some proud a him, is what it done. Ol’ Bill helt his sister fair high. He was some suspicious a Miz Sharon for a spell. We tolt her about it, an’ it tickled her quite a bit. She talked the situation over with Bill, an’ he settled down about the whole thing after him and Miz Sharon had discussed it.
Dakota Trail Page 1
