Wild Dream

by Duncan, Alice

“What for?”

  “Don’t you ‘what for’ me, you dam-blasted crook.”

  Charley decided he’d be better off on the ground, so he stepped down from the chair. “I think I have a right to know why I’m being arrested, Sheriff.”

  “You know blamed well why you’re bein’ arrested, Wilde.”

  Peering at the canister in his hand, Charley said incredulously, “For trying to refill the sugar bowl?”

  Fermin looked at the empty sugar bowl on the counter and then at the canister in Charley’s hand and a spasm of doubt passed over his long features. He said, “Hah!” in a sinister manner, but Charley was pretty sure he only did so to stall for time.

  The sheriff’s eyes squinched up tight. “I don’t believe for one danged minute you’re only refillin’ the dad-blamed sugar bowl, Wilde.”

  “Oh? Why not?”

  “Because you’re a rotten varmint, is why not, dad-blast it. I know what you’re up to.”

  Charley did his best to look disgusted. It wasn’t too difficult. “And just what do you think I’m up to?”

  Fermin waved his gun. Damn, Charley wished he wouldn’t do that. “No good is what. You’re up to no good.”

  He seemed to think of something else, and his squinty eyes darted back and forth. “Where’s the other one?”

  “What other one?”

  “Where’s the other feller? Your friend.” He made an malediction out of the word “friend,” and Charley was offended.

  “You mean Lester Frogg? Lester, the baritone player? The man who’s been my friend in war and peace for fifteen years? Is that who you mean, Sheriff?”

  Fermin glared at Charley. “Don’t give me none of that, Wilde. That’s the one I mean, all right.”

  With a disapproving snort, Charley said, “He went to church with Miss Ivy and Miss Adelaide.”

  “Church?”

  If nothing else, Charley knew he’d succeeded in surprising the sheriff with that particular piece of information. “Yes, Sheriff. Church.”

  Not daunted for long, Fermin’s eyes squinched up again. “Well, why the hell didn’t you go with ‘em, Wilde? Wanted to stay here and search the place?”

  “For what? Sugar? And I didn’t go because I was shot a few days ago, in case it’s slipped your mind, and I hurt my arm last night trying to keep Miss Adelaide from killing you.” He eyed Fermin up and down contemptuously. “Now I’m sorry I did.”

  The sheriff looked nonplused for a moment, and Charley got fed up.

  “Look, Sheriff, if you’re going to arrest me, then do it and let’s get this over with. Take me into town and see how far you get. I reckon you can always say I was stealing the sugar jar.” He held the canister out to show Fermin how ridiculous he was being, then set it carefully on the counter.

  “It ain’t just the sugar, and you know it, Wilde,” Fermin announced resolutely. “It’s—”

  Suddenly Fermin’s squinty eyes opened wide. “Holy Moses.”

  Fermin had entered the Blewitt house via the front door and tiptoed down the hall and into the kitchen. As the two men now stood, Fermin faced the back door and Charley the door to the hall leading to the parlor.

  At the sheriff’s shocked exclamation, Charley realized somebody had opened the back door. He could feel a cool breeze at his back. Besides, what else could account for the sheriff’s reaction? Relieved, he turned and said, “Miss Adelaide?”

  Fermin shrieked, “Get down!” just before he swung his gun toward the back door.

  Charley had time to utter, “Aw, shit,” as he threw himself on the floor, banging his bad arm against the kitchen table. A shot rang out. He braced himself for the searing pain of the bullet which must have pierced his hide somewhere, but seconds raced by and he didn’t feel anything except his wounded arm throbbing fit to kill. Criminy, it would never heal at this rate.

  Then he realized there was an arrow sticking out of the chair, pinning Fermin Small’s pistol to the chair leg. The gun dangled by its trigger guard and swayed in the morning air. The arrow’s shaft quivered, making its feathered fletching dance.

  Charley wanted to bury his head in his arms and forget about this morning, but he knew such an action would be cowardly. Not that he cared what Fermin Small thought of him, but the idea of being found by Addie Blewitt, scalped on her kitchen floor, didn’t appeal to him much.

  Carefully, he lifted his head, looked over his shoulder and found the back door.

  Sure enough; it was an Indian. Charley hadn’t had much experience with the Red Man, but he could tell one when he saw one. This one was bare-chested, wore fringed buckskin leggings, and had another arrow nocked and aimed. Charley registered a moment’s panic before he realized the man had his weapon aimed at Fermin Small.

  Well, for heaven’s sake. Charley didn’t know what to do now. Then he guessed he didn’t have much to lose one way or the other, so he asked politely, “Mind if I get up?”

  The Indian spared him a glance. “Okay,” he said in a voice reminiscent of polished mahogany; sort of like his skin.

  “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot me!”

  As Charley got to his feet, he decided Fermin Small’s voice reminded him of poisoned ivy. He took note of the relative positions of Fermin and the visitor and pegged this Indian, whoever he was, as his friend.

  “My name’s Charley Wilde, sir. My friend Lester and I are staying with Miss Ivy and Miss Adelaide Blewitt. The sheriff here seems to think I’m a criminal.”

  “Miss Addie don’t like Fermin Small.” The stranger sounded as though he took Fermin’s presence in Miss Addie’s kitchen as a personal affront.

  A grin quivered at the corners of Charley’s mouth, but he decided it would be imprudent to smile until he possessed more details. “Yes. Yes, I believe you’re right there, sir. She’s mentioned it more than once.”

  He heard a squeak from the floor.

  “You all right?”

  It took Charley a second to realize the intruder had just asked about his own health. “Er, yes, I believe so. The sheriff keeps sneaking up on me and I keep aggravating a wound I got a few days ago, but other than that I reckon I’m all right.”

  “Miss Addie took you in?”

  “Yes, sir. She did indeed. She bandaged up my arm and she and her aunt are letting my friend and me work for her until my arm’s better. We’re musicians.”

  The Indian gave him a brief scowl, and Charley said, “Er, we make music together—play horns—my band and me.”

  A muffled, “They’s a bunch of varmints,” came from the floor.

  “You go,” the Indian said.

  It took Charley only a second or two to understand the stranger had given the command to Fermin Small. “Good idea, sir.”

  To Fermin, he said, “Why don’t you come back later if you have something to talk to Lester and me about, Sheriff. Come back when the ladies of the house are here. I don’t feel comfortable entertaining guests in their absence.”

  Charley reckoned that if Fermin weren’t too scared to raise his head, he’d have given Charley a good hot glare.

  “You go,” the newcomer repeated, and he nudged Fermin’s head with the toe of his moccasin.

  “C-can I take my gun?”

  “No.”

  Fermin didn’t stand up in the kitchen. He scooched back across the floor and out into the hallway before he rose to his feet. Looking shaky, he muttered, “That makes two guns in two days the Blewitts got from me.” Then he took off running down the hall. He flew out the front door and leaped onto his horse. Charley heard him tear out of the farmyard and hoped he wouldn’t run his horse to death before he got back to town.

  The sheriff’s departure left Charley alone in the kitchen with an armed Indian. He decided to play upon the amity that apparently existed between the man and Addie so as to keep his mind occupied. Charley’d never been this close to an honest-to-goodness wild Indian before, but he reckoned anybody who was an enemy of Fermin Small was more than likely a friend of his.<
br />
  “I was just going to make some tea, sir. Would you care for a cup?”

  The Indian slung his bow over his shoulder. “Okay. With sugar.”

  So Charley set about preparing the tea. He learned the man’s name was Sun in His Eyes. Something he’d been curious about for a while occurred to him. After he blew up the fire in the stove and set a kettle of water to boil on the lid, he asked, “Are you the gentleman who taught Miss Adelaide to shoot a bow and arrow, Sun in His Eyes?”

  Sun rolled his eyes and a pained expression crossed his face. “No.”

  Charley guessed he’d better rephrase his question. “Are you the one who tried to teach her?”

  “Yes.”

  “She wasn’t much of a student, huh?”

  “No. No attention.” Sun tapped his head then drew his hand back and forth in front of him, fingers straight, palm down.

  “Couldn’t keep her mind on her lessons?”

  “No. Always talk about night.”

  “Night?”

  “Night.”

  All at once Charley understood. “Ah,” he breathed. “Knights.”

  Sun nodded. “Night.”

  # # #

  Addie felt rather disgruntled as she, Ivy and Lester rode back to the farm. Lester drove the team and Ivy clung to his arm like a barnacle. Addie didn’t mind that. What she minded was that Mr. Topping had chosen this morning, of all mornings, to preach on the text, “It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him.”

  She figured it would have done Charley Wilde a world of good to have listened to Mr. Topping’s sermon. The minister had waxed truly eloquent on the subject. She hadn’t been bored once.

  Maybe she could chat with Mr. Topping during the week and ask him to choose a similar text for next week’s sermon. What was that other one? “A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband?” Addie decided she’d fetch the family Bible this very evening and check up on it. She noticed Lester frown and her thoughts veered back to the present.

  “Is something wrong, Lester?”

  “Sheriff,” Lester said.

  He inclined his head toward the road. Peering over the side of the wagon, Addie saw the item which had caught Lester’s attention.

  “Well, for heaven’s sake. I reckon he came for his gun, but I can’t imagine why he didn’t notice that his hat had fallen off.”

  She glared at Fermin’s dust-coated hat as they rode past it. She supposed she should have Lester stop the wagon so she could rescue the hat, but she didn’t. Let the sheriff fetch his own hat if he was stupid enough to lose it.

  “You expect he’s still here, Addie?” her aunt hollered.

  Addie put her hand over her ear and wished Ivy wouldn’t shout so. “I don’t know, Aunt Ivy. I hope not.”

  “Me, too.” Ivy looked like she wished she still had her broom with her.

  When Lester drew the wagon up beside the house, Addie’s heart almost stopped when she beheld the front door standing open.

  “Oh, my land! You don’t suppose he snuck up on Charley while we were out, do you?”

  Lester said glumly, “Yup.”

  “Better check, Addie,” Ivy told her.

  Without even waiting for the wagon to come to a complete halt, Addie scrambled to the ground. She called out, “I plan to,” as she raced up the porch steps and into the house.

  # # #

  “Raise two,” Sun in His Eyes said.

  “See you, and raise one,” Charley countered.

  Without hesitation, Sun said, “Raise two.”

  Charley pinned Sun with a pointed look then shook his head, disgusted. Damned inscrutable Indian. “I reckon that’s too rich for me,” he grumbled. “I fold,”

  He slapped his cards down on the kitchen table, and Sun had a big grin on his face as he scooped up the pot.

  When Addie flung open the kitchen door and skidded into the room, Sun had accumulated a couple of Charley’s last few coins. Since they were only playing for penny stakes to begin with, Charley had begun to feel quite ill-used.

  “Sun!” Addie shrieked.

  The two men at the kitchen table jumped up so fast their chairs fell over backwards.

  Damn, Charley wished people would stop sneaking up on him and hollering in his ear. Every time he jerked like that, his arm hurt like crazy. He rubbed his wound with his good hand, turned around, and tried to smile at Addie. He wanted to yell.

  “Afternoon, Miss Adelaide,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Miss Addie,” said Sun.

  Addie stood in the kitchen doorway, a hand slapped to her breast, breathing hard. Her bonnet had fallen off in her panic and dangled by its ribbons down her back. One of the braids she’d wrapped around her head in such a ladylike fashion earlier this morning had lost a pin in her headlong dash and now dripped over her ear.

  “Oh, my land, I’m so glad it’s you, Sun. We saw Fermin Small’s hat out there on the road and I thought he’d come back here and shot Charley. I was so scared.”

  Charley watched, appalled, as Addie’s fortitude failed her and two tears spilled from her lovely gray eyes and made a silvery trail down her cheeks. He felt awful for having caused her such distress and wondered if he should have let the sheriff shoot him so her worry would not have been in vain. He hurried to her, put a soothing arm around her shoulder, and led her to the table. He bent to pick up his chair and sat her down carefully.

  “Would you like a cup of tea, Miss Adelaide? I’m sure it would soothe your nerves.”

  “I make Fermin Small go away, Miss Addie.” Sun, too, looked concerned.

  Charley smiled at him. Indian or not, he was all right, this Sun in His Eyes. And he could play a mean game of poker, too.

  Addie stopped crying almost as soon as she started. At Sun’s announcement, she looked up sharply. “You mean he actually came back here today?”

  “He sure did,” Charley said.

  “Was it to bring a pane of glass to repair the broken window?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Addie frowned. “Was it to fetch his gun?”

  “Didn’t seem like it, ma’am.”

  Now she didn’t look worried at all; she looked mad as a wet hornet. “Do you mean to tell me he was aggravating you again, Charley? I mean, Mr. Wilde?”

  “I’m afraid he’s got it in his head I’m some sort of low character, Miss Adelaide. Fortunately, your friend Sun here drove him off.” Charley hesitated, then added, “Maybe Lester and I should try to find someplace else to stay, ma’am, since the sheriff doesn’t seem to want to give up on an idea once it settles in, and he’s apparently got the idea we’re criminals. I’m worried that you or your aunt might get hurt.”

  Addie jumped up from her chair. Charley was amazed at how formidable she looked with her eyes flashing and her cheeks flaming. She couldn’t have stood more than five feet and an inch or two, but she looked fierce as anything.

  “You will not go anywhere else, Mr. Charley Wilde. You and Mr. Frogg will stay right here and work for my aunt Ivy and me. For one thing, there’s nowhere else in town for you to stay. For another thing, Fermin Small is an idiot, and I won’t allow him to ruin our lives.”

  Charley admired her spirit, although he wished she’d relent about himself and Lester living here. It was tough, being in such close quarters with her.

  Thoughts of rubies smote him, though, and he glumly acknowledged this was about the only logical place he could stay if he planned to carry out his dastardly plan. Besides, if what she said about accommodations in these parts was true, they didn’t have much choice. Life sure played mean tricks sometimes.

  “Well, thank you, ma’am. I hope the sheriff won’t be a burden to you.”

  Addie yanked her bonnet back onto her head. As she fumbled with the ribbons, she looked about as peeved as Charley’d ever seen anybody look.

  “If that man so much as shows his face in our yard, unless he’s got a pane of glass with him, I’ll sho
ot him myself.”

  It sounded as though she meant it.

  Sun said, “If you shoot Fermin Small, use one of his guns.” He gestured to the two pistols laid out on the kitchen counter.

  “He left another gun?”

  “Not on purpose.” Charley grinned at Sun. Sun only looked solemn.

  “I’m afraid you got another hole in your house too, ma’am, thanks to the sheriff,” Charley added. He walked over and gestured to a high cupboard, where cracks radiated from a bullet hole.

  “Oh, my land.”

  “I can fix the hole, Miss Adelaide. Carpentry is my profession.”

  “That’s right; I remember you told me.” Addie leveled one of her beautiful smiles at him, and Charley gulped.

  Her glance seemed to trap him, and the two of them gazed at one another, rapt, until the hall door opened again and Ivy entered. Reluctantly, Charley turned toward the door.

  “What happened?”

  Ivy’s screech broke the magic spell of Addie’s lovely eyes. Charley tried not to grimace.

  “Fermin Small snuck up on Charley and tried to shoot him in the back like the low-down cowardly skunk he is,” Addie announced, thereby winning a surprised look from Charley. “But, Sun here came to the rescue and sent Fermin on his way again.”

  “Howdy-do, Sun,” Ivy shouted.

  Sun nodded. Charley noted with interest that Ivy’s shrill voice did not seem to ruffle Sun at all. He’d always heard Indians were a stoical lot; he guessed it was the truth. He observed Lester, a pace of two behind Ivy. Lester grimaced at him, and Charley knew it was Lester’s way of asking what had happened.

  “It was the sheriff again, Lester. I was fetching some sugar to refill the bowl, and he snuck up on me.”

  Lester frowned. Ivy grabbed him by the arm and yanked, and he stumbled into the kitchen.

  “Lester, honey, this is Addie’s friend, Mr. Sun in His Eyes. Sun has taught Addie quite a bit about life on the plains. He comes by every now and then for some of my peach preserves.”

  Lester eyed the Indian dispassionately. Sun eyed Lester back, and Charley was struck by the similarities in their demeanors. Well, shoot. He guessed people were all alike underneath their surface differences. “You came for peach preserves?”