I opened the door then, an’ stood back outa her way. She kindly blushed a little bit, then squared herself up an’ went ahead on like she owned the place. I tickled me quite a bit, is what it done. Miz Darlene was makin’ change for another lady at that little counter near the doorway an’ smiled at me. She finished her duties an’ come over an’ give me a little pat on the arm.
“Miz Darlene,” I said, “it is a pleasure to see you. I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Miss Lotus. Miss Lotus, this here is Miz Darlene.”
Miss Lotus come to bow some, then straightened up.
“I am very happy to meet you, Miss Dar-reen,” she said. “Ru-bin speaks of you very well.”
Miz Darlene smiled real big.
“Rubin speaks very well of you, too. It is my pleasure to meet you. Why don’t you look around the store and excuse me while I go in the back and get Ruben and me some coffee and put water on to heat so you can have a cup of tea.”
“Very yes, Miss Dar-reen,” she said, “and much thanks to you.”
Miz Darlene give me a little smile an’ a wink, an’ headed toward the back room. I went up front to that little table an’ took a set. Miss Lotus come with me.
“It might be good if’n you was to take a little walk around the store an’ look things over,” I said. “Yer tea won’t be ready for a few minutes.”
She give me a little bow an’ struck off. I was still grinnin’ from it when Miz Darlene come out with two cups a that wonderful coffee an’ set down with me.
“What a lovely young woman,” she said.
“I agree with ya,” I said. “An’ there’s a real sweetness about her, special considerin’ what she’s been through in the past couple years. It was a terrible thing for anybody to have dealt with, an’ yet she come out of it durn near glowin’. I reckon she’d be my first choice if I had the need for a baby sister.”
“You are a remarkable young man, Ruben Beeler,” Miz Darlene said.
I didn’t know quite what to do with that, so I took a sip a coffee an’ mentioned about how good it was. Miz Darlene was smilin’ terrible big. I felt my ears git some warm. It was then the little bell over the door come to ring, an’ Miz Nora walked in. Miz Darlene got up then an’ talked with her some, then the two of ‘em went off through the place, lookin’ for Miss Lotus in them racks a dresses an’ such, I guess. I wished ‘em luck. Miss Lotus was some short, ya know.
I was near halfway through my cup a that wonderful coffee afore Miz Darlene come up an’ took a set. She was smilin’ some big.
“Well,” she said, “your baby sister and Nora are in the back room having tea and getting to know one another. If Nora is half as taken by Lotus as I am, I expect that young lady has herself a part-time job.”
“Ain’t that just fine,” I said, displayin’ my teeth.
“And that isn’t all,” she went on. “Earlier today, Nora spoke with the wife of Reverend A. B. Norburg, the minister of the Swedish Baptist Church. A young couple in their congregation have expressed a desire to take the word of God into China. She was wondering that since you’d told us Lotus speaks English, if she might want to teach some of the Chinese language to them. She said the Reverend mentioned two or three lessons a week would be worth fifty cents each to the girl, less ten percent that would go to the church.”
“I doan know if that would be a terrible smart thing to do,” I said. “From what little I have learned from Miss Lotus, the two a them stompin’ into to China an’ tellin’ them folks there that they is wrong in what they believe might be the last thing either of them folks gits to say.”
Miz Darlene smiled a little bit.
“Do you believe in God, Ruben?” she asked me.
“Well, I kindly do, M’am, I guess, but I doan go to church or nothin’ like that. I went to Sunday school an’ such when I was little, an’ I have read the Bible some, an’ I have took my notice of a couple a preachers an’ such, but I’m a little suspicious a folks that feel it necessary to try an’ tell me what to believe when the reason is because they claim to believe it. Some years ago, I spent time on the trail with a Nez Perce Injun by the name a Johnny Sweetgrass. Him an’ me talked about the Great Spirit an’ the Great Mystery some, but not once did he make no attempt to convince me he was right in his beliefs nor did he try to convince me any other way a thinkin’ was wrong.”
“Do you think he was right in his beliefs?” she asked me.
“I believe he was right for him, an’ felt safe enough in what he believed that he never tried to git me to come along his way. I doan think none of us has got the right to try an’ force folks to believe the way we do. I believe we is all connected by somethin’ we ain’t never gonna be able to really understand, anyway.”
“One more question,” she said. “What do you think happens when we die?”
“I doan know, M’am,” I tolt her. “But I think that we’re better off bein’ more concerned about how we spend the years we have on this ol’ Earth, than fussin’ at folks about what might happen after our days here is done. In all that time I spent with Johnny, not once did he ever try to tell me he was right in his beliefs, nor try to encourage me to join in his religion. I guess we all have the right to believe what we want, but I ain’t sure we got the right to try an’ convince other folks they is wrong an’ it is our way or we set in a mess a fires for eternity.”
Miz Darlene smiled at me.
“Ruben Beeler,” she said, “I think you are a fine young man, and I believe that God or the Great Spirit put you right where you are so young Lotus could find her way to a better life.”
I didn’t know what to say about that, so I didn’t say nothin’, but I did feel my ears git some warm, again. Miz Darlene chuckled at me a little bit, then went back to drinkin’ her coffee.
We finished our coffee after a spell, an’ I tolt Miz Darlene about our place in Deer Run, an’ Harmony, an’ little Bill an’ Melody. She seemed some interested in my fambly an’ such. It was a treat for me, to tell ya the truth, gittin’ to talk about it all an’ Verlon an’ Arliss the gunsmith an’ such. I was tellin’ her about Arliss the mule when Miz Nora an’ Miss Lotus come walkin’ up our way. They was both smilin’ quite a bit.
“Marshal Beeler,” Miz Nora said, “I want to thank you for bringing us this fine young woman. Lotus and I have been discussing things, and she has consented to work here from about two until five, six days a week. In return, she will receive four dollars and fifty cents a week and clothing other than the robe and footwear she currently has. After talking with her and getting to judge her mettle a bit, I suspect she is set for a major change in her life; and I am very pleased to be a part of that.”
It tickled me a little bit, an’ I was some happy with how both them ladies had took to Lotus like they done. Me an her struck off then, on the hike back to the roomin’ house. I made sure Miss Lotus would be able to find her way back to the store. She was due to start the next afternoon, an’ was some excited about the prospect of what changes was comin’ into her life. I was grinnin’ like a possum just listenin’ to her bein’ so happy an’ all. It brung a tear to my eye, is what it done.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It was gittin’ some late in the afternoon afore me an’ Lotus got back to Mister Rafferty’s roomin’ house. Both Homer an’ Marion was settin’ out on the porch when we arrived. They jawed with Miss Lotus some, seein’ how happy she was an’ all, tellin’ her how glad they was she got herself a job a work. I believe if she was any happier, Miss Lotus woulda been able to glow in the dark. After she went inside, Marion spoke up.
“We’re supposed to meet Sheriff Hickman purty soon, ain’t we?”
“He tolt me,” I said, “that Craig fella was gonna come by his office around suppertime. From the directions he give me, his office ain’t but a few blocks away. Might be good if we was to walk over in that direction. I’d rather we was all waitin’ for him when that Craig shithead showed up with his story about how he’d been attack
ed an’ robbed a his property.”
“What do ya think of Sheriff Hickman?” Marion asked me.
“He seems like a purty good feller,” I said. “I believe that justice is more important to him that whatcha call the letter of the law, an’ I doan think he’ll back up a step.”
“That little railroad come by his place, does it?” Homer asked.
“I doan know,” I tolt him. “You wanna ride the train car some more, do ya?”
“I wanna git a nice late supper a ground beefsteak over at Jenson’s Café, an’ I doan wanna hike all the way on foot. I’m a cripple, dammit. You boys oughta show me a little mercy.”
“You ain’t fixin’ to break into tears, are ya?” Marion asked.
“I might,” Homer went on, chewin’ his lip an’ lookin’ out across the way. “If you two shitheads was a little more sensitive, we wouldn’t even have to talk about it. You’d just know ta put my needs afore yours.”
“By God,” Marion went on, “it is a durn shame ol Arliss the Mule ain’t here. Maybe we could build ya a little cart to set in while he towed ya from place to place, you bein’ so bad off and all.”
“Arliss the Mule would be some better company that what I got to put up with now,” Homer kindly growled.
“All we gotta do is go about a half a block east to the next street,” I said, “then, three blocks north. Mebbe we could kindly pick him up between us an’ tote him down that way, Marshal Poteet bein’ so reduced from the man he used ta be.”
“That is a fine idea,” Marion said. “He could put a arm around our necks, and we could each hold up one a his knees. That way, if he come to gittin’ too bossy we could just drop him an’ go on our way. Somebody might find him an’ take him in. Poor ol’ fella.”
“Fine pair a pards you two turned out ta be,” Homer muttered. Then he got up, struck off down the steps, an’ turned east, steppin’ out right smart.
Me an’ Marion grinned at each other an’ follerd along. I doan reckon it took us more than ten minutes to git over to the Sheriff’s office. Homer bitched the whole way, but he never slowed down one bit.
Sheriff Hickman was settin’ out on the boardwalk when we got to his office. He stood up an’ smiled at us.
“Evenin’ boys,” he said. “Good ta see ya. That Craig feller ain’t showed up yet, but I reckon he’ll be along in a spell. I’ll talk to him inside. You want to, you can face him the minute he comes in, or you can hide back in a cell an’ listen in to what he has to tell me afore he knows yer around. The cells is all empty. Up ta you, I reckon.”
Marion looked at me.
“You feelin’ sneaky, are ya Ruben?” he said.
I grinned at him, an’ the three of us went back to the cells an’ set in the first one outa sight from the front office space. We left the main jail door open about halfway so we’d be able to hear. Sheriff Hickman went outside to set on the boardwalk.
Waitin’ time goes some slower than workin’ time, I guess. It kindly felt like half a hour or better but, truth be tolt, I speck we waited in that cell for no more than ten minutes afore the sheriff come back in. We could easy hear him.
“So yer name is Craig, is it?”
“It is,” come another voice. “Rayland Craig.”
“Tell me, agin, what happened an’ how you got hurt, Mister Craig.”
“It was about dark, and I was walkin’ on the boardwalk over by the Silver Chandelier when these three men come at me. The littlest one pointed a gun in my face an’ threatened my life. Then, another one throwed me out agin’ the hitch rail. That’s when I come to cut up my forehead on the edge of the boardwalk.”
“You figger they was tryin’ to rob ya or somethin’ like that?” Sheriff Hickman asked him.
“They did rob me,” Craig said, gittin’ his voice up some. “They attacked me physically an’ took my personal property. If there wasn’t three of ‘em, they wodden a stood a chance. As it was, I managed to escape with my life. I want my property back an’ I want them men found an’ punished!”
“That done it,” Homer muttered, gittin’ up from the bunk an’ steppin’ out into the office. “Here I am, you sonofabitch,” he said. “Mebbe you’d like to git up offa your fat ass an’ begin my punishment.”
Me an’ Marion hustled out to the office in case Homer might need to be restrained some. As it was, Craig didn’t have the sand to stand up, much less tangle with nobody. He set there, pale like, lookin’ the three of us over.
“Mister Craig,” Sheriff Hickman said, “you are a liar and a coward. You are subject to prosecution for the theft of a minor child and bein’ a purveyor of slavery. Kidnappin’ and slavery is some major charges, sir. I reckon you’ll be sent off to prison for quite a few years after you are found guilty. You are in my bailiwick, sir, with three well-known and trusted United States Marshals who have brung charges agin’ you and are more than willing to testify agin’ ya. These are felonies, sir, and we’re a territory not a state. That means it could take about two or three months afore the district judge will get by this way agin’. You’ll wait for him in jail, and then you’ll go to prison. I’ll make sure the guards an’ such know you kidnapped a minor female child for your entertainment. I reckon your life expectancy in prison to be terrible short.”
“I’m the victim here!” Craig hollerd, jumpin’ up to his feet.
Homer knocked him back down in the chair hard enough that the chair rolled over, throwin’ Craig to his side on the floor. Marion commenced to pattin’ down Craig’s clothes an’ come up with one little two-shot Derringer pistol from a pocket in his vest. Craig was tryin’ to argue an’ such, but ol’ Homer had kindly rung his bell or somethin’, ‘cause none a us could rightly understand what he was sayin’. Marion an’ me each grabbed a ankle an’ drug him back into the cell block an’ clanked a door on him. He stayed on the floor kindly mumblin’ to hisself. We went back out into the office. Sheriff Hickman was settin’ on the edge a his desk, smilin’ a little bit.
“Still babblin’ is he?” he asked.
“Still is,” I said. “He ain’t sayin’ nothin’ that sounds familiar to me, though. He’s kindly scrambled up in his head or somethin’.”
“He’ll prob’ly be over it by mornin’,” Hickman went on. “I’m make sure my deputies is informed over night in case he needs a doctor or somesuch.”
“He thinks he is somebody,” Homer said. “That could make him some hard to deal with. We’re gonna need some information, an’ he ain’t gonna be terrible happy to give it to us.”
“You boys have someplace you gotta be?” the Sheriff asked.
“We’re on the trail for wherever or whatever it takes,” Marion said.
“Let’s give him a few days,” Hickman went on. “Two cups a coffee and two fried egg sandwiches a day might change his mind some. He doan look to me like he’s fond a missin’ many meals.”
Marion grinned.
“Cooperation through starvation,” he said.
“I’m gittin’ close to starvation my own self,” Homer said. “If’n I doan git over to Jenson’s Café purty soon, things could git some serious for the rest a you boys.”
“You wanna come along, Forest?” I asked.
“I better stay here with that fool in case he is bad hurt. You boys go ahead. I’ll come by Rafferty’s place in the mornin’ an’ let ya know what’s goin’ on.”
We struck off to go git some supper, then, with Homer settin’ the pace some smart. I reckon his bad leg got some better when he was hungry.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sheriff Hickman had give us some directions on how to git from his office over to Jenson’s Café that saved us five or six blocks a walkin’, an’ made the journey some easier for Homer, I reckon. Homer would bitch an’ moan now an’ then about his bad leg an’ such, but never when he was actually serious about it. I’d watched him some. The only time he’d gripe about that leg was when he was doin’ fine. If it was really botherin’ him, he’d never say a
word about the pain. Homer was tough.
Miss Lucy seen us about the time we come through the door an’ give us a little wave an’ a smile. The place was about three-quarters full, an’ just about the minute we took to a table one a them young fellers that cleaned off the dishes an’ such showed up with three cups a coffee an’ three biscuits for us. He tolt us the coffee an’ biscuits was on the house an’ that Miss Lucy would be by in a minute or two an’ git our orders. Homer was still workin’ on his first biscuit when she come over.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” she said. “Three ground beef suppers?”
“Yes m’am, Miss Lucy,” I said. “Good to see you agin’. Miz Grace alright, is she?”
“Momma is fine,” she said. “She claims you three didn’t come by for breakfast this morning and was wondering if you’d all left town.”
“Sheriff Hickman tried to make us leave,” Homer said, “so Ruben here locked him in one a his own cells until we could see ya one last time an’ eat a good supper afore we had to run off.”
“Well,” she said, kindly laughin’, “you’ve seen me so I guess the ground beef is next.”
“You are a fine young woman,” Marion said, “and I reckon the beefsteak wouldn’t be quite as good as it is if you warn’t around.”
She smiled real big an’ went off to put in our orders.
We was about halfway through our meals afore Homer scratched his chin an’ spoke up.
“Now what?” he said.
“Patience, I reckon,” Marion said. “I speck we’ll git some information from that Craig sonofabitch after he spends some time locked up in the jailhouse.”
Homer grunted.
“You leave me alone with him for just a little while, and I guarantee he’ll have a fair bit ta say.”
Dakota Trail Page 10
