“This here is private property,” the one-eyed man said. “State your business.”
“My business is my own,” Jim said, waving his pistol. You put your hands up, turn around, and head on back to the house."
Biding his time, the other man did as he was told, walking slowly. He could see Martha peeking out from one of the windows, and could only hope she would quickly act on the situation.
“Now Mr. Santini” Belle began, “Why do you have that poor horse tied up in that snow out front?”
Will could tell she was joshing him. “Daisy is hardier than she looks, actually. And I’m trying to find another place to stable her. She is rather valuble, and Smith’s Livery is right next to that Blackhorse Saloon, which seems to be a cut below that Tumbleweed I looked in at. Some rather unsavory looking types were hanging out in the front of the stable, too., and I mislike taking a chance with a horse like Daisy.”
“My husband did say the sheriff was going to be looking in on them” Belle said, as she began to ply the broom. “How soon do you figure on opening school?”
“Not much left to do, but this storm might delay things a little. Sometime next week I hope. But you don’t look like you have children old enough for school.” Will responded gallantly.
“No I don’t, but now that you mention offspring I wanted to ask, heve you ever considered breeding your Daisy?”
“Not really. But I could be” he said in a cautious tone. “It would take a fine stallion for a crossbreed to be worthwhile. I take it you have one in mind?” And the conversation was off and running.
In another part of town Sheriff
I can’t blame the hamsters, my finger hit the wrong button.
In another part of town Sheriff Wilson stumped his way to the Blackhorse.
Time to get a couple of deputies he thought tiredly. This job was getting too big for one man. Keeping an eye on Johnson, his cardsharps and whores was a job in itself. Now he had an assault on the lawyer of the town’s(formerly) most prominent citizen, whose will seemed to be missing, a nephew of same who might bear watching, and a bad-tempered stranger who in all likelihood was up to no good. What was coming *next? * he wondered.
“Hold up, Sheriff,” Jesse called, leaping out the wagon and tying Diablo to the hitching post. “You aren’t thinking of going in there alone, are you?”
Wilson smiled. “I can’t deputize you, you’re too set on being a lawyer. But I wouldn’t mind an extra hand.” The two walked into the saloon, wincing at the stench of spilled beer and unwashed bodies.
“Damn,” Wilson said. “And it’s not even noon.”
Jesse looked around in distaste. The Blackhorse was fairly new in town, only opening up about two months ago, but even in that short time it had acquired a less than savory reputation. Tommy had at first been alarmed when this rival saloon opened, but his fears were quickly laid to rest. The more upstanding residents of the Gulch only visited the Blackhorse once or twice before returning to the Tumbleweed. Blackhorse was where the drifters and more shady characters in town got their beer or women. Tommy refused to hire prostitutes, a fact which delighted Parson Gray, who frequently sermonized against the Blackhorse.
Sheriff smacked two brawlers upside the head, and they drunkenly subsided. Jesse stepped over a pool of tobacco juice that had spilled from an overturned spitoon. A hard-faced woman in a low cut, grease-stained gown took one look at the Sheriff and scuttled upstairs.
“Morning, Sheriff,” the bartender called out, smiling and revealing his missing front tooth. “Shot of bourbon on the house?”
“Absolutely not, Johnson,” Wilson retorted. “I’m here to tell you to rein in your shenanigans.”
The bartender affected an innocent look, something which did not sit well with his unshaven beard and his unwashed hair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Martha Tuttle could hardly believe what she was seeing. That nice Mr. Poole was being shivvied up to the house by a man with a gun! Martha didn’t approve of guns, she hardly wanted to go into town anymore. A straight-laced former New Englander, she didn’t like all the new folk in town, the carousing, the drinking, the women,(shudder!) She’d heard there was to be a school again, maybe now those wild kids would have some discipline!
But what was she to do? Since Mr. Gus had died Mr. Paul and Mr. Will had sort of run wild themselves. At their age, hmph. Neither one was up yet, at this hour, they’d spent the night in the parlor smoking, drinking and talking in low tones. Paul had had a letter from his son, and it didn’t seem to make either man happy, but it was none of her business. The only thing she’d really heard,(she’d been passing in the hall, certainly not eavesdropping!) was some talk about a will.
There was no one else to help her, a lady, as the only other help currently employed in the house, and odd-jobs man named Howard, was in town for the day. Oh dear, oh dear! Hear they came.
Hank opened the door slowly, at the prompting of Jim. He looked at Martha’s wide eyes and sighed inside. It hadn’t worked out as he had hope. Martha was a fine woman but prone to being dithery.
"Mornin’ Mrs Tuttle, he offered, as Connor stepped into the house behind him. “Paul and Will gone yet?” She managed a tiny shake of her head.
“Cut the crap, both of you!” grated Connor. “I want both of them here right now! Especially Will Andersen. They upstairs?” he asked of Martha. This time she nodded a little.
“Get going One-eye” prodded Connor. “And you, get us some coffee! I’ve got a business proposition of sorts, and I want everyone awake.”
Shortly their were shouts and thumps upstairs, then quiet. At length Hank, Paul and Will come down, still being covered by Jim Connor. The latter two look disheveled, and were wearing long robes, carpet slippers, and bleary eyes. When they saw the coffee pot and cups laid out on a table in the parlor, they shuffled a little faster, followed by HanK, and then Jim.
As Connor walked past the parlor door he ran staight into a cast iron skillet wielded with expert skill by Martha Tuttle. She may not have approved of guns, but skillets were another matter.
Jim Connor fell to the floor like a sack of dirty laundry. “Now, who in tarnation is this fellow?” inquired Mrs. Tuttle.
“Never seen him before,” answered Hank. “How about you two?”
“Not me,” said Will.
“Me neither,” said Paul, perhaps a bit too quickly.
The quartet stood around a few moments then Will said, “I suppose Wilson would want to ask him some questions.”
“I’d rather we ask him ourselves,” said Hank. “Tie him up and follow me.”
Connor, bound up good & tight, was brought into the barn by Mrs. Tuttle and Hank with the brothers close behind. Hank tossed another rope around Connor’s ankles and tossed the opposite end over one of the rafters. Hank explained, “Something I learned from a fellow named Bart. I normally wouldn’t do this but I don’t like having strangers point guns at me.” Hank and Will hoisted Connor high above the barn floor.
Oops. That first “tossed” should be “tied”.
Belle swept, the Hastings painted, and Mr. Santini organized his books and papers. Mr. Hastings promised to stock his store with school supplies, such as slates and chalk and the precious pencils.
“I’ll come out and take a look at your Diablo later today,” Mr. Santini said. “Can I give you a lift?”
“I’m supposed to meet my husband at Bertha’s, but he said something about going over to the Blackhorse. Can you take me over there?” Belle asked, winding her hair up under her hood and buttoning up her gloves.
“The Blackhorse?” Mr. Santini raised an eyebrow. “That’s not exactly a place for a lady.”
Belle laughed. “Let me tell you how ladylike I was about six months ago. The Sheriff is there, and I don’t think they’d mind some extra muscle.”
Mr. Santini shrugged. “As you wish.” They bid farewell to the Hastings, who were cleaning up the paintbrushes and putting a final varnish on the desks, and stepped out into the cold. The snow had stopped, but it was still fairly windy and frigid.
Connor had revived somewhat as he was hoisted upside down. The pain in his nose, the blood rushing to hiis head, and his disorientation brought on the stream of cursing that mad Marth blush and leave for the house. Will, who had a weak stomach, went with her. Through all this Hank just waited. Finally Jim started yelling “You don’t scare me. I don’t care what you do!”
Innocently Hank asked “not even if I do this?” And Connor yelped in alarm as he was suddenly dropped a couple of feet towards a water trough. “You can’t drown me!” he screeched. “You’re right” answered Hank, “I, oops!” and Jim dropped another couple of feet.
“What I want to know,” Poole went on, “is who you are and why you tried to bushwack me back there.” On account of Poole’s one eye he didn’t catch the little headshake Paul made as he stared up at Connor, who noticed the motion and quieted down. “I never saw you before in my life. You got something personal against me or what? Oh, sorry, guess I let the rope slip a little more.”
Connors head was now almost touching the water. “Damn you, all I want is what’s mine, my brother’s property that I was swindled out of.”
“What’s that got to do with me?” asked a now puzzled Hank. “I don’t know you or your brother.”
“I haven’t got a brother!” Connor spat finally, “and you were in with those who did him in. I knew you be that hole in your head.”
Hank Poole tried to think back. He’d had a lot of run-ins with folks in his life, but he’d always tried to stay on the right side of things. What could this stranger be referring to? But before he could come up with an answer Connor started to gasp and choke.
“Hank!” said Paul, “let him down. He’s going to pass out and then he won’t be able to tell us a thing. You go back to the house and get things ready to take him to the sheriff, I’ll watch him.” Somewhat reluctantly Poole lowered Jim back to the floor of the barn and did as Paul suggested.
As soon as he was out of sight Paul leaned towards Jim and asked “are you Jim Connell?” As Jim nodded and spit to clear his mouth Paul cut his ropes and said “We have to make plans fast.”
Ooooh, goodie, Baker! Nice going! I’ll let you carry on a bit there, while I head over here…
Belle and Mr. Santini hopped out of the wagon and hitched Daisy next to Diablo. Mr. Santini nodded approvingly as he looked over the stallion, who was waiting patiently for Jesse to come out of the Blackhorse.
Which didn’t sound like it was going to happen any time soon. From inside the establishment came the most amazing cacophony of screams, yells, shouts, and even a bark or two. Belle stared as the Sheriff tumbled out backwards through the batwing doors. He saw Belle, touched his hat to her, then straightened his holster and headed back inside.
“I think they need help,” Mr. Santini said.
“I think you’re right,” Belle said, squaring her shoulders.
Jesse, inside the bar, was having a fine time punching the customers and breaking chairs over their heads. Sheriff was doing his fair share too, and funny enough, the Wilted Flower they had seen scuttle upstairs earlier was doing her best to yank out hair and scratch out eyes. Guess she didn’t like her current employment.
Johnson had started mouthing off to the Sheriff, who had warned him if he didn’t rein in his nefarious activities, he was going to shut the place down. That, apparently, was what the customers took exception to, although most of them were too drunk to see straight, much less land a punch.
He jumped when he heard Belle call out, “Jesse?” but he couldn’t see her clearly through the brawlers. Suddenly a scream made his blood run cold.
Johnson had grabbed Belle, and was holding a knife to her throat.
The hamsters were hungry I guess. I had a whole episode written, hit submit, and it never got there. This time I’ll save as I go along.
As Paul Anderson fumbled at the ropes to free Jim Connell , Connell lashed out at him “If you knew who I was why did you let me get strung up like that? Couldn’t you have stopped it?”
“Now Connell” Paul whined “Hank always has been a guy who takes charge. MY brother Gus always favored him over his own kin. I been good, I kept in line, and Gus still didn’t ever give me a chance.”
“Shut up!” commanded Jim, “We have to figure out what to do now. That Poole will be back any minute.”
“My son is back in town. Like always he wants money. Well, this time I aim to have enough to send him packing for good. I figure he’ll help us, if he wants a share, and besides, he doesn’t want anyone in on his secret. We can still work this out, here’s where you need to go…” and the two men talked in hurried tones.
Returning Hank found Paul bound and gagged, bleeding from a small cut on his scalp. He pulled out the gag and worked at the ropes, meanwhile saying in a exasperated tone “hell and tarnation Paul! How’d you manage to let that skunk get the drop on you?”
Meanwhile Jim Connell was well on his way back to town. He knew he should have been more careful less conspicuous, when he arrived in Anderson’s Gulch, but that old fool Paul Anderson had been right about one thing, this whole will swindle could still be pulled off. He didn’t care who got in his way. Mentally he added the name of Hank Poole to his lengthening “better dead” list. It already included a sheriff, a ranch hand, a judge, and that red-headed bitch at the funeral. No woman was going to get the better of Jim Connell!
The brawling abruptly stopped. A saloon fight didn’t seem much fun when a woman was in danger. Silently the remaining men made their way outside, suddenly sober.
Belle was frightened, but her anger was slowly starting to take hold. Jesse caught the look in her eyes and knew he had to act fast before she did something rash.
“Now, Johnson, just let her go,” Sheriff said. He glanced over at the Wilted Flower, sobbing quietly in the corner. Jesse began to edge his way around behind Johnson.
“Move and I stick her,” Johnson growled, digging the point of his knife into Belle’s throat. She gave a yelp and then narrowed her eyes.
“You don’t want to hurt a lady,” Sheriff said. “JPut the knife down and we can talk this over like men.”
“You want to shut me down! I’m running a respectable business!”
“Respectable!” The Tumbleweed Saloon’s “hostess” shrieked. “What kind of respectable is it when you force your own sister to work upstairs!”
“Shut your head, Lucy!” Johnson yelled, and Lucy cowered back to her corner.
“Now, Sheriff, this is what we’re going to do. You and your deputy here are going to put down your guns and walk out of here. In one hour, I’ll release this sweet piece and then we’ll be eve—AARRGGHH!” Johnson suddenly dropped to the floor like a sack of wet laundry.
Behind him was Mr. Santini, wiggling his boot.
“Landed it right at the back of his knee,” he said, smiling. “Think I broke a toe, though.”
ivylass, isn’t it the Blackhorse’ hostess, not the Tumbleweed’s?
Jesse darted over to support his wife, who had started to sag as well. Apparently the tension and fear had brought on a bought of nausea.
“I’m sorry, honey, that son of a urp!” she gagged. “Maybe lunch didn’t sit so well with me.” She was embarrarassed, and furious at the same time, that the whole incident had had such an effect. Lucy brought Belle a towel, which she took gratefully.
Jesse turned to Will “Thank you for saving her” he said quietly, “I was too far away. That sure was some flying kick you gave.”
“Well,” said Santini modestly, “Now you know why I can handle a whole * bunch* of kids if I have to!”
Fred Johnson had been carted off to the jail, but not before yelling at someone named Jenkins to take over the saloon for him until he got back. Most of the customers had fled, but like cockroaches they would probably be back once the place had had the glass swept up, and new chairs set up. However, one thing that wouldn’t be the same was Lucy. When she had seen her brother arrested she’d screeched “I quit!” and gone back upstairs to pack whatever she had. Now she reappeared. She had on a dress that was somewhat more modest than her previous attire, and a ridiculous straw hat that actually had a bunch of fake cherries on the hatband.
“I know” she said “this all sure does look funny, but it’s all I got for now. I don’t know where I’m going, but anyplace is better than this hellhole. Maybe I can find a real job, but who would hire someone like me?”
“Miss Lucy” said Jesse “I’m very greatful for you helping out in this ruckus. Head on over to the Silverlode and tell the clerk I sent you. Belle and I will put you up for a week , maybe you can decide by then what you want to do.”
The gratitude in her eyes was something to see.
That’s bout of nausea. I hate to mis-spellings.
Ah, yes, Baker…wrong saloon. Thanks for catching that.
Jim rode his horse hard into town, looking for Paul’s son, Sam. The lunch crowd was thinning, and people were heading back to the mines or their other businesses.
He smiled as he saw a well-dressed man heading up the street. Another man was with him, and they seemed to be heading toward the Tumbleweed.
“Whoa up there, gentlemen,” he called, pulling his horse to a halt in front of the men. “You’re Sam Anderson?”
Sam nodded cautiously, while Slim narrowed his eyes at seeing Connor again. “What can I do for you?”
“Your uncle sent me. We need to talk.”
Slim glanced around and saw Bill walking toward the jailhouse. Unfortunately, he was too far away to call to him, so he had to do something else.
Surreptiously, Slim snaked a hand toward Jim’s horse’s tail and gave a quick yank. The horse whinnined and bucked, throwing Jim to the street.
As Bill turned to see what the ruckus was, Slim quickly called out, “Tidd, hurry! I found Jim Connor!”
AFter the “excitement” at the Blackhorse was over, Jesse and Belle helped Will Santini to Dr. McCaulley’s place. They didn’t suppose there was a lot the doc could do for a bad toe, but he might be able to bind it up more effieciently than they could. After leaving Will they decided to head home. With the snow on the ground, and the evening that would come early, best to be on their way.
Their route took them past the turnoff to the Charging Bear’s ranch. “Jesse” spoke up Belle, “maybe I ought to pay a call on Caroline and the baby tomorrow or the next day. Sally’s going to be having to do most of the housework, and with Charley doing all the outdoor chores Caroline may need another female face to talk to.”
"All right dear. There isn’t that much needs doing here, and I can take care of it. But,"and here he grinned, “speaking of chores, what’s for supper, wife?”
Belle grinned back at her husband “I’ll figure out something to give [I}you*, but I don’t think I’ll be joining you. I still feel a little queasy. Maybe I should have bought a bottle of tonic at Hastings before we headed back.”
The next morning the two had oatmeal and eggs for breakfast, and Belle prepared to visit Caroline. She also wished she’d thought of buying a baby gift, but settled on a small blue wool blanket she unpacked from a chest of her old things, before she’d married. She figured it ought to wrap the baby up real pretty.
Since she was carting a few more things than usual she hitched Diablo to their little wagon again. Belle wondered if he thought it "beneath his dignity’, but before starting out she gave him a pat on the neck and told him “don’t worry, I may be arranging a lady friend for you soon enough.” Humming, she set out for the Charging Bear ranch.
Sheriff set down his cup of coffee and readied himself to hunt up that Connor fellow. Bill Tidd, that hugely tall lawyer, had seen him tumble in the street, but by the time he had gotten over there he had disappeared with that Anderson nephew, and Slim was nursing a slugged jaw.
Just as he was slipping his duster coat on, the door flew open and One-Eyed Hank burst in. “Sheriff, thank heavens. You got to come with me.”
“I’m going to get breakfast for my prisoner,” Wilson said, motioning to a snoring Fred Johnon, safely behind bars. “And then I have to find the fella who slugged Bill Tidd. Did you know he’s back in town?”
“O-ho,” Hank exclaimed. “That explains that. But we can’t wait for that. You got to come out with me to the Excelsior.”
“Why?”
“'Cause I put something down there for safekeeping and I think it’s important. Gus gave it to me 'bout a month before he passed.”
“What is it?”
“Not sure. All I know is I was supposed to keep it safe until one of his laywers got here.”
“And you think it’s important enough to kill for.”
“Something like that.”
“Good enough. If there’s one thing I learned in this town, it’s to trust your judgment.” Sheriff left a note for Jesse to get food for the prisoner then he and Hank headed toward the Excelsior.
On the way there, Sheriff heard a whistle. He looked around and saw Hank on a trail that had grown over. After Sheriff caught up with him again, Hank said, “This way. We need to use the old entrance.” It took a few more minutes to get to the old entrance, which was marked with a sign that read “Danger! Tunnel unstable!” Hank gave a wink and pressed on.
Belle could see Sally outside the house as she drove her wagon up the approaching drive. She waved and Sally waved back, running to meet her.
“It sure is good to see someone else Belle!” enthused Sally, as she helped unhitch Diablo. “Ma’s getting better, but she’s been awful tired. Except when she’s feeding the baby she can’t do much.”
“Well, Sally, your mother is almost forty, way over the age most women have babies.”
“I know that” was the retort. “But I haven’t seen anyone else since you and Jesse left. I don’t even know what’s been going on in town!”
Belle and Sally entered the house. They looked in on Caroline, who seemed to be sleeping, but she opened her eyes and smiled. The baby was tucked in a cradle that Charley had made himself, once he knew another child was on the way.
“Belle! You didn’t have to come!”
“Oh yes I did. And based on how Sally here is acting you all could use some help. But speaking of help, where’s Charley?”
“He’s out to our furthest pasture, on towards the Anderson spread. We’ve lost a couple of cattle, he wanted to look around.”
Belle proceded to fill both of them in on the goings on in town, both what she had seen and what she had heard from others. Sally and Caroline gasped at all the right places, especially at the ruckus at the Blackhorse, and Sally perked up when she heard school would be starting again soon.
"And, "said Belle slyly, looking aside at the younger girl “the teacher is a fine looking man, too.” Sally determined she would study really hard.
Belle presented Caroline with the blue blanket and then began to help Sally with household work. The baby began to cry, and after checking his diaper(still dry enough), Sally handed him to her mother, who prepared to give him his next meal.
A hard knocking at the front door startled them.