Wildcat Kitty and the Cyclone Kid

by Franklin D. Lincoln

Sara Price pushed the lace curtains aside and gazed out of her bedroom window at the ranch yard below. Her oval face framed by long flowing blond hair filled the upper pane of the window. She had a creamy complexion and pale blue eyes etched with a sadness that only unrequited love could bring to a young girl of seventeen.

  From her perch on the second floor of Simon Price’s ornate Victorian mansion she watched the opened doorway of the barn across the way. Outside the barn, next to the corral gate, the buggy that Flo Baxter had driven to The Big Dollar sat parked.

  Just a few minutes ago, Sarah had been downstairs and out in the massive well manicured yard of the big house. Sara had been watching Peso Martin going about his chores and tending to the horses in the corral.

  Peso Martin was a strapping, fine figure of a man with broad shoulders and lean hips. Black, curly hair peeked out below his broad brimmed black hat with a silver concho hatband. His rugged face was clean shaven. He had a strong chin, razor blade nose and dark piercing black eyes. He was well dressed as far as range clothes went. He wore a fancy two gun rig around his middle and his jutting pistol butts were pearl handled

  Sara practically melted every time she gazed at the man. He was much older than her; probably early to mid- thirties, but she told herself that she was grown up enough for him. A time or two Peso had let her prove that to him and she made herself believe that he really did care about her.

  “Whatcha doing, cowboy?” She had said coyly as she sidled up behind him. He had just led a big black stallion into the corral and released the hemp rope noose from around his neck. He was closing the gate behind the animal when he heard the girl approach. He didn’t answer or acknowledge her presence as he fastened the gate shut.

  Sarah was smoothing down her frilly yellow dress as he turned around. Her big round eyes were full of expectation and she batted her eyelashes in a manner that she thought would arouse Peso.

  “I’ve been watchin’ you,” she said. He walked past her brusquely without a word.

  “You look so manly when you’re working.” she said almost nervously, spinning on her heel, following his movements as he strode by. “I… I didn’t mean that you don’t always look manly. “Cause you do. It’s just that I like to see the sweat glisten on your chin.”

  Peso tossed her a furtive glance. Looked a bit perplexed and grunted. He lifted a saddle that had been resting on a corral rail.

  “I’m busy. Sarah,” Peso said curtly as he started for the barn with the saddle.

  “That’s okay,” she said after him. “I’ll just watch.” She hoped to herself that she wasn’t sounding too much like a child. But then, how could she? She wasn’t a child. She was a woman fully growed, she told herself.

  Peso turned back toward her. He sighed with irritation. “Don’t you have anything better to do with your time, Sarah?” He said.

  “What could be better than being here with you, Peso?” She gave him an up from under smile and said it in a low voice, which she hoped sounded seductive and intriguing. Obviously, she had not seemed to notice Peso Martin’s disinterest or perhaps, she was so smitten with the big man, that she could not bring herself to accept the fact that Peso was not returning the same feelings for her that she had for him.

  “I think you’ve got company, Sarah,” Peso said flatly, gazing over her shoulder at the driveway behind her that led up from the road below. He turned and continued on to the barn.

  Sarah spun on her heel to look behind her. An open gated archway built of logs loomed over the drive. In big letters Simon Price’s ranch was identified as ‘The Big $ Dollar.’ Rolling through under the archway a brown draft horse pulled a small one seater buggy. Just big enough to accommodate two people. It had a covered roof with fringe on three sides. The back of the buggy was fully enclosed.

  A dapper young man in a brown suit, dressy tan vest, frilly white shirt and derby hat tooled the vehicle into the yard and expertly pulled the horse to a halt beside Sarah. He was a very good looking man though small in stature. His complexion was almost a white pallor and his hands were soft. He seemed totally out of place in the outdoors.

  “Hello, Sarah,” he said with a beaming smile. His words were clear and distinct. Obviously a man of culture and education.

  “Sorry I’m late. I had some things I had to clear up for your father,” Andrew Wharton said.

  “Late?” Sarah repeated, looking a little perplexed. She glanced back behind her and caught a glimpse of Peso Martin disappearing into the barn. Then back to Andrew. “Oh, that’s right I’d forgotten we were going for a ride today. I’m sorry,” she said nervously, glancing back toward the barn. No sign of Peso.

  “Are you all right, Sarah,” Andrew said with concern, noting her uneasiness. He stepped quickly down from the buggy.

  “Well, to tell the truth, Andrew,” she said. “No, I’m not feeling well. Not feeling well at all.”

  Andrew grasped both of her arms and pulled her toward him. He could feel her resistance. She turned her face away from his as he pressed closer.

  “Would you mind, Andrew?” She said. “If we didn’t go today. I…I’ve got a terrible headache and I just don’t feel up to it.”

  “Well, if you really don’t feel well………”

  “I said I didn’t,” she almost snapped in defense.

  Andrew felt a bit taken back. He leaned back away from her studying her face. She was still not looking him in the eye.

  “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” She suddenly realized how she might be sounding.

  “That’s all right,” Andrew said. “I understand. You’re not feeling well. Of course we can go riding another day.” He sounded hopeful.

  Andrew seemed relieved, but somehow he still had reservations. “Good,” he said. “Just for a minute there I thought maybe there might have been something wrong between us.”

  “No. No, of course not. You know how much I like you.”

  “And I like you ,too,” Andrew said. “You know that don’t you?”

  “Of course I do,” Sarah responded.

  He leaned closer as if offering a kiss, but she turned her head away again. “I…I really must go inside and lie down,” she said, starting to pull away.

  Andrew loosened his grasp and she wriggled out. She glanced back at the barn. Still no sign of Peso Martin. Then back to Andrew she said, “I… I ’m sorry Andrew. I really must go now. Thanks for making the trip out. It was really good to see you.” She didn’t sound quite convincing, Andrew thought. A frown of concern deepened across his brow.

  Sarah whirled and hurried toward the house.

  As Andrew watched her go, he shouted after her. “Are we still on for the dance Saturday night?”

  She halted at the front door, her hand already on the knob. Turned and answered. “Sure. I’m looking forward to it.” Then she added, “Sorry you made the trip out here for nothing today. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

  She opened the door and disappeared inside, closing the door behind her.

  Andrew stood there a moment, staring at the closed door. He felt hurt with pangs of perceived rejection, but he tried to tell himself that he was imagining things. After all, she did say she was glad to see him. And didn’t she promise to go with him to the dance on Saturday? She just wasn’t feeling good he told himself. That’s all there was to it. He climbed back into the buggy, took up the reins and turned in a tight circle to head back down the drive toward the road. He still hadn’t quite convinced himself as he drove through the overhead archway.

  “Why do you treat that boy, the way you do?” Eunice Price said as Sarah entered the vestibule, closing the door behind her.

  Eunice stood in the entranceway to the parlor. She was a small framed woman in her early fifties and wouldn’t have shown her age if it were not for the lines of a sad, haggard face and swollen eye pockets. The wine glass in her hand was almost empty. Had it not been for her dependence on its contents she might have looked younger. But the
sagging skin beneath her delicate pointy chin and her disheveled hair; once brown, but now graying, leaving nothing but stray brown strands still visible, belied any hint of lost youthfulness.

  She had once been a fine lady from Virginia, but life as Simon Price’s wife had stolen any sense of pride and dignity she had left. She knew that Simon had married her for her Daddy’s money. Colonel Samuel Harcourt had been a hero in the southern army during the War Between the States. His lavish plantation in Virginia had been burned to the ground, but the Colonel was still a wealthy man when Eunice married Simon Price. Colonel Harcourt warned Eunice about Simon Price being nothing but a money monger and when she ignored his warnings, he threatened to disinherit her.

  Unfortunately for the Colonel and fortunately for Simon Price, Sam Harcourt met with and untimely death; slain by an unknown assassin before the will could be changed. Eunice inherited the entire fortune after all and Simon used it to build his empire.

  “You know that boy is in love with you, Sarah,” Eunice said. Her words were starting to slur already, even though it was still before noon. She swirled the liquid in her glass and took another sip.

  “What would you know about love, Mother?” Sarah answered angrily. She hated seeing her mother getting sloshed. And, it seemed to be happening more and more often and earlier and earlier in the day. “All you know is sitting around and drinking. You don‘t know how to love anymore. You don‘t love Daddy anymore and you don‘t love me either. All you love is a bottle.”

  “At least the bottle doesn’t talk back to me. As for your father, he doesn’t need my love. My money is all the love he needs.” She started to take another swig from her glass, but then she noticed it was empty. “Time for a refill,” she said and shuffled unsteadily on her feet into the parlor.

  Now as Sarah stood at her bedroom window she was seething with anger. She has seen a carriage and team of horses rolling, at a fast clip, up the drive and passing through under the overhead arch. She had recognized the driver right away. It was Flo Baxter.

  She had brought her team roaring into the barnyard and reining them to an abrupt halt in a cloud of dust.

  Sarah’s eyes had turned gloomy and she felt a pang of jealousy mixed with anger as she watched Peso run to Flo’s buggy. He was smiling broadly and eagerly reached his massive muscled arms out to help her down.

  As she had gazed down at the scene below her, she grimaced and looked away as Peso and Flo embraced. When she let her eyes drift back, she could see that the greetings were over and Flo was saying something with very animated excitement. Peso was nodding as he took in whatever Flo was saying. After a moment Peso strode away and Flo went on into the barn.

  Sara watched as Peso darted about the area as if looking for something or someone. It turned out that he was looking for someone, for when he found two men lounging about under the shade of an apple tree, while tooling some broken harnesses, Rufe and Shorty Dolan. He addressed them.

  They were listening intently as if taking instructions. She could see their heads nodding. They dropped their harnesses and went quickly to the corral, snaking saddles from a rail.

  Peso strode away and went into the barn, disappearing into the darkness of the interior.

  The two cowhands had saddled, mounted up and had ridden away at a gallop and Peso Martin was still in the barn.

  Sara was grumbling to herself telling herself what was going on inside the barn and then immediately telling herself that she was wrong and it wasn’t true. How dare she think such things of the man she loved.

  But, minutes dragged on. She became impatient and started to pace around her bedroom, but always returning to the window. She was beside herself now. Tears dripped down her cheeks and she felt confused with anger and sorrow.

  Finally, as she returned to the window, she saw the couple emerge from the barn. Flo was adjusting her hat and brushing straw from her skirt. Peso was adjusting his gun belt as he escorted her to the buggy. They halted briefly and embraced one last time before he helped her into the carriage.

  Sarah leaned against the window frame. Her knees were shaking and she felt weak all over. Her eyes were fixed on Peso. It wasn’t so, she told herself.

  Peso Martin stood in the barnyard for several minutes, watching Flo drive away. Then as she disappeared into the distance he turned away toward the corral.

  Now that she’s gone, I’ve got to go to him, Sarah told herself. She dashed out of her bedroom, leaving the door wide open. She hurried down the circular staircase, ran through the hallway, heading for the front door.

  “What’s the big hurry?” She heard Eunice Price call to her from the parlor.

  Sarah had her hand on the doorknob as she saw her mother, Eunice Price stumble into the hallway. “Please, Mother,” Sarah answered. “I don’t have time. I’ve got to talk to Peso.”

  “Peso?” Eunice said. “I’ve told you a hundred times to forget about him. He’s just a no good womanizing gunman.” This time, her words seemed to be a little more slurred. “If you were smart you would latch onto Andrew Wharton. That boy is a good catch. I think he really loves you.”

  “You don’t know, Mother. You don’t know about anything. He’s still in love with Kitty Carlin.”

  “I don’t think so. She’s a wanted outlaw now. He wouldn’t want her Aren’t you forgetting that you cared for her brother Jeremy, too. When he turned outlaw, you said you could never ever want him again.”

  “That was different, Mother. That’s me and Jeremy. Andrew still wants Kitty, not me. He only wants me because he couldn’t have her. Well, I don’t want him either. I want Peso and I’m going to have him.” Sara pulled the door open and rushed out leaving it standing open. Eunice ambled back into the parlor.

  Peso Martin was just riding away at a gallop on the black stallion as she stepped outside.

  Chapter Five