Rayne Comes to Town

by Dannie Marsden

  “You say Jeremiah was in a foul mood, any idea what that was about?” the sheriff asked

  “Hell, with him you can never be sure, though it’s my guess he was still pissed over the way that Mathews' gal spoke to him. I think he’s got a hankerin’ to taste that, and she ain’t givin’ him the time of day.” Otis Wheatley, a lanky cowboy leaned against the wall as he waited for the others to back him up.

  “Yup that’s my guess. Hell, he should be up at the main house, why don’t you go ask him, you’re interruptin’ our card game here.” The grizzled man who spoke had a cigar hanging out of one corner of his mouth.

  “Well he isn’t there,” the sheriff complained. “When you all see him, tell him I got a couple of questions for him. All right?” Once he saw at least one of the ranch hands nod, he tapped his horse’s side and rode back toward town. As he rode, his mind was on Fern.

  How am I going to proceed? I hope and pray that the woman lives to tell me exactly what happened. If she dies, there isn’t a damned thing I can do to Sprigs.

  †

  Early the next morning Rayne said good-bye to her new friends, Martin and Sarah, after she saddled her horse. With one last goodbye, Rayne headed back to Willow Springs with Lucifer trotting beside her. She couldn’t wait to get back and gather up Apache and Delilah and head home.

  The ride was nice and quiet, and she did a lot of day dreaming and planning. Yup my life is finally on the track I want, she thought to herself. Aside from being alone, she was happy. The previous night she had once again dreamt about the blonde haired blue-eyed mystery woman and woke this morning with a sense of excitement she couldn’t explain.

  The dream had been so vivid she swore she could feel the woman in her arms and she awoke feeling warm and happy, filled with a love that she had never felt before in her life. The joy she felt in her dream transcended through to her waking state and that alone gave her hope.

  “Samson, what do you think? You believe she is real and out there waitin’ for me?” she asked. The big horse neighed and nodded his head, which caused her to smile. “Well all right then, if you think so, then it will all turn out as it should,” she said with a laugh.

  Chapter Ten

  “So what you’re tellin’ me, Sprigs, is that it wasn’t you that left Fern beaten and near death,” the sheriff asked.

  “She’s a whore. Who cares what happens to her?” Sprigs replied.

  “I do. If she dies, it’s murder.”

  “Not me, Sheriff,” Sprigs sneered. “Fern likes it rough and begs to be hit. If she is askin’ for it and someone gives it to her, the blame is on her ‘cause that is how she wanted it.”

  Sheriff Kennedy listened to the man’s words. Words that almost admitted he’d beaten Fern up. “So were you the one who gave her what she wanted?”

  “Yeah, I hit her a few times when she asked me to. As far as I’m concerned, she’s a whore and that is what I pay her to be. There’s no crime in that is there?”

  “Yes, there is. If she dies you’ll be the first one I come lookin’ for.” The sheriff’s face was a deep red.

  “Go ahead and try blamin’ me for what some whore asked for. Unless you have any more accusations, I’m leaving.” Sprigs rose and left the office.

  †

  The news wasn’t good at Hank’s bar, Fern was messed up bad and it didn’t look like she was going to get any better. She hadn’t regained consciousness and with each passing hour she was getting weaker. If one was to believe Doc Adams, it was only a matter of time before the woman passed on.

  This news and the cost of the doc left Hank in a bad mood and in a bad position. He couldn’t help Fern and he certainly couldn’t afford one of his most popular girls being gone from the saloon. Facing the issue, he knew he’d have to put Emma out. Even though he knew it wasn’t what Fern would have wanted.

  “Look, with Fern gone, I’m losin’ money, and it’s about damn time you start earnin’ your keep,” he told Emma that evening after stopping her in the hallway. “Now tonight, I want you to wear a pretty dress and start serving the men their drinks. You work the floor, let ‘em know you’re there and soon enough someone will take interest in ya.” Hank looked at the small blonde woman. She stood silently staring at the floor, tears in her eyes.

  The other women gathered around Hank all in an uproar. One stood forward. “Hank, don’t do that to her! Look, the rest of us will chip in a few dollars to help make up for what you’re losin’ for Fern.”

  “Mattie, keep outta this. It ain’t up to you. My decision is final. Emma will start as a barmaid then work upstairs with you all. By this time next week, she should be earnin’ Fern’s share of the customers.”

  “Hank, please, I can’t… I can cook and clean like I been doing but please don’t make me.…” Emma began.

  Hank’s hand across her cheek silenced her.

  The women who worked the bar rushed to Emma and helped her up.

  “Don’t say anything,” whispered Joan, one of the older working girls.

  Emma held a hand to her cheek and said nothing more.

  Hank, embarrassed by his actions but satisfied that he wouldn’t get anymore back talk from his girls, walked along the hallway and down the stairs.. He liked Emma but he knew having fewer girls would lose him money and he had no choice. Emma would just have to do as he said.

  Walking down the stairs, Hank spied Sprigs—the last person he wanted to see.

  †

  “Hank, how ya doin’?” Sprigs greeted the barkeep. “I hear Fern is not doing too good. How is she?”

  “Well, Sprigs, how do you think she is?” Hank answered calmly.

  “If I knew, I wouldn’t ask.”

  “She probably isn’t going to make it.”

  “Well, shit. I’m sure sorry to hear that. She was…well, she was fun…what can I say? I suppose you’ll be getting a new girl to replace her. You be sure to let me know when ya do. I just might be interested, if ya know what I mean.”

  Deep inside Sprigs was glad to hear that the whore was going to die. Without her testimony no one could say it was him that done the deed.

  “Jesus, Sprigs, the woman ain’t even cold yet.” Hank shook his head sadly.

  “Well, maybe not but you be sure to let me know.” Sprigs walked off to the bar where he ordered a shot of whiskey.

  God, I hope whoever that asshole gets to replace Fern is as much fun, he thought as he downed his drink in one gulp, ignoring the tiny voice inside that said he should feel some small remorse for the woman who lay so close to death. As Sprigs looked around the room, he noted a card game going at a table with a couple of guys that he knew. He headed that way to join the game. The rest of the day, that’s where he stayed. The women in the room tried to look like they weren’t avoiding him and the men luckily seemed to be doing their damndest not to anger him.

  Later that evening, Doc Adams walked into the saloon looking for Hank.

  “Sorry to have to tell you this, Hank, but Fern didn’t make it. Her injuries were just too severe.”

  Hank looked at the floor as he tried to keep anger at bay. Fern brought in money for him but he had liked her too.

  “Thanks for all you did for her, Doc. I know you at least made her comfortable in the end. I uh…hell, I suppose I need to go let the other girls know.” He shook the doc’s hand, unexpected, tears brimming in his eyes.

  After the doctor left, Hank stood up on the bar and waited for everyone to notice him. “Everyone quiet down. Fern just died,” he announced.

  The party atmosphere of moments before, became sober.

  Sprigs’ voice boomed throughout the room. “Well shit, doesn’t mean the party’s gotta stop. Ken, a round of drinks for the house.”

  Ken started filling shot glasses but stopped . The men were slowly, quietly gathering up their belongings and walking out the swinging doors.

  “Hey, come on, where the hell is everyone goin’,” Sprigs shouted.

  “Sprigs, shut t
he hell up, you bastard. Ain’t you got no respect?” one of the departing men grumbled.

  The women all huddled together crying, arms around one another. The ones who were still allowing Fern’s death to sink in, passed on the news to the men and women that were coming down the stairs. That evening the saloon closed early as the men went home to their families or bunkhouses and the women commiserated with one another, sharing memories of Fern.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rayne rode into the yard in front of her place and immediately felt that something was off. She dismounted slowly and tethered her horses to the fence. She pulled her gun out of its holster, and walked into the barn where she lit a lantern. Her eyes gazed at her surroundings and she saw nothing out of place. With lantern in hand, she headed toward the small house.

  Stepping onto the front porch, she immediately saw a window broken out. Lucifer sniffed the ground and walked into the house ahead of Rayne. She entered with the gun held high and stood behind Lucifer. She watched him as he trotted through the house looking for any uninvited guests. When he returned and sat by her feet, she lowered her gun and finally took a good look around. What she saw made her blood run cold. Lamps and tables were overturned and the chairs had ragged cuts in them. The dishes in the kitchen were scattered and broken on the floor. The windows in her bedroom were broken with the bed torn apart, and the blankets cut to shreds.

  Rayne, not bothering to look at any more, turned on her heel and headed back toward the front yard. She un-tethered the horses and led Apache and Delilah into their stalls. Rayne jumped into Samson’s saddle, hollered at Lucifer to stay, and kicked the horse into a gallop, leaving a cloud of dust behind her as rode toward town.

  †

  As soon as she arrived in town, Rayne immediately went to Sheriff Kennedy’s office and found a deputy she didn’t know minding the office.

  “Can I help you, ma’am?”

  “Where’s Sheriff Kennedy? I need to speak with him immediately.”

  “Ma’am you need to calm down so that I can understand you.” The officer stood.

  “Calm down hell, you need to get the sheriff, right now.”

  “Ma’am...you’re the Mathews woman ain’t ya?”

  Rayne nodded.

  “Look, I’m Sam, Kennedy’s deputy. Now you can tell me what happened and we’ll go from there, okay?”

  “Someone wrecked my house, went in, and tore the hell out of it. That’s what happened.”

  “Let me get my horse and I’ll meet you outside and we will go get the sheriff.”

  The sheriff opened his door and looked at his deputy and Rayne. “Come on in. What’s goin’ on?”

  “Someone broke into my house while I was gone and tore it apart.”

  “When did you leave?”

  “Yesterday mornin’.”

  Tom scratched his nose. “Well the way I see it, Rayne, it bein’ so dark and all there is not much we can do tonight. Why don’t you get you a room at Bessie’s place and tell her it is on me. Then tomorrow we can all ride out to your place and get a good look at what happened.”

  “Guess I have no choice.” Rayne sighed in resignation.

  Rayne went to Bessie’s for a meal and a room for the night. After arranging for the room, Rayne walked into the dining room, found a table, and sat down.

  A young, red haired girl approached her. “What can I get cha?” she asked.

  “Steak, potatoes, and coffee.”

  Before long, Bessie walked over and took a seat across from her.

  “Hey, how are you? How’s that place of yours comin’ along?”

  “Oh, hi, Bessie. The place…well, it was looking good.”

  Bessie took a good long look at Rayne. “Girl, you look wrung out, what do you mean it was lookin’ good?”

  “Someone broke into my house and threw everything around.”

  “Oh, honey, that is terrible.”

  “Yeah. A good thing happened though. I went over to Cherokee Falls to buy some cows and ran into a man and his wife who were good friends of my aunt and uncle. The man said he came from Boston with Uncle Luke when they were young.”

  “That’s nice that you met some friends of your aunt and uncle. Treasure them, Rayne. I’ll bet they got the memories they’d love to share. As for your house, I’m sure sorry to hear about that, Rayne. You best be careful till you find out who done it.”

  “So what’s been going on? It’s been a while since I was in town,” Rayne asked trying to get her mind off her troubles.

  “Well, poor Fern died.

  “Who was Fern?”

  “She was a working girl over at the saloon. Story is, Hank went looking for her and found her in her room close to death’s door.”

  Bessie leaned closer to Rayne. “She’d been badly beaten. Lots of people are sayin’ the last person she was seen with was that Jeremiah Sprigs. He denies it, of course. And Sheriff Kennedy hasn’t done anything but question the man.”

  “Well surely the Sheriff would do something if he had proof. He seems to be a right fair man to me.”

  “Oh, I ain’t speakin’ ill of the sheriff at all. Don’t think I am, please. It seems to me it fits, and poor Fern ain’t in no position at all to say who done her in.”

  “When did all this happen?” Rayne asked.

  “Oh, last night. Little old Fern passed on late this afternoon. Hank closed the saloon for the night. The other girls are takin’ her passing right hard.”

  “That’s too bad,” Rayne said, frowning. “I sure am sorry for their loss. Losin’ someone ain’t an easy thing,” she added quietly. She was thinking about her Aunt Martha and Uncle Luke and the other people who she hadn’t lost to death—the ones that were no longer in her life due to choices she had had to make. Yes, losing someone didn’t always have to mean losing them to death.

  “Well, here comes your dinner. You eat and relax, all right? I’m sure the Sheriff and Deputy Sam will get to the bottom of your troubles in the morning. I assume you already got yourself fixed up with a room for the night?”

  “I sure did. Can’t say I wasn’t lookin’ forward to my own bed, but if I gotta stay somewhere else then I can’t think of a place with a softer bed.” Rayne gave Bessie a small smile.

  “Good, now you go on and eat your dinner and we’ll talk later. Seems I’m being called.” Bessie nodded to the table of women over in the corner. She leaned in and whispered, “Most likely they want gossip. I swear some of these women ain’t got nothin’ better to talk about.”

  Rayne watched as Bessie approached the table with a big smile. She shook her head knowing deep inside that Bessie loved knowing the latest gossip just as much as the others did.

  Later, after she had finished her dinner, Rayne decided to head over to the livery and make sure Samson had his dinner and was set for the night. She knew Lucifer and her other horses had plenty of food and hay to make it through the night. The walk in the warm night air felt good and relaxing. She could smell the clean fresh night air that held a hint of summer. Since the nights were still cool, there was crispness in the night air and some far off homesteads had smoke drifting from chimneys.

  The stars were bright and clear in the sky; the moon, almost full, was a sight to see.

  God, I love being out in the open where I can see the beauty of all of this, she thought as she walked.

  As she strode across the street, she spied a short young woman with moonlight shining off her blonde hair. It made Rayne’s heart stop beating. Could this be the woman from her dreams? Oh, get it together, Rayne. She is imaginary, a part of her murmured, but a bigger part of her said she was real and waiting for her to find her. Rayne rushed across the street to catch up with the young woman but missed seeing which building she entered.

  “Damn, where’d she go? She couldn’t have gone into the saloon since it’s closed.” She reasoned as she looked up and down the street. The mercantile and all the other buildings along the street were closed as well. The only place wi
th shining lights was Bessie’s and she had just come from there. “Damn.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Emma had ducked out of the saloon that evening even before it closed. She needed to think and she wanted to mourn Fern alone. Fern had been someone that truly cared about her and had taken care of her after her mother died. She had been the one who held her each night as she cried, missing her mama. The others helped out, but Fern was the only one she allowed to get close to her heart.

  As she sat on the little knoll outside the church gazing at the moon, she prayed that someone would come and take her away from the life that was waiting for her. She knew what fate had in store for her and she feared she would end up as Fern had—alone and dying in a puddle of her own blood. She didn’t care who rescued her but hoped it would be the raven-haired blue-eyed woman, whose strong arms held her and comforted her in her dreams.

  “Stop it, Emma. She isn’t real and even if she was, do you think she would ever want to take care of you and love you once she finds out where you come from?” she said aloud as she walked back toward the saloon. Oblivious to the beauty of the night, she went in, closed the door, and walked up the narrow stairs to her room where she cried for Fern and for not having the woman of her dreams.

  The next few days were a flurry of activity for Emma as she dealt with the day-to-day activities that life threw at her. She was learning how to work the floor of the saloon and was constantly under either the watchful eye of Hank or that of Sprigs. Emma was afraid of the man everyone thought murdered Fern and did everything she could to avoid him. However, when Hank told her to stop avoiding his best customer, Emma knew that Sprigs had said something to her boss.