Kinsman of the Gun Read online

  ‘Your new deputies are accompanying Doctor Tisdale out to the Swearingen ranch,’ Eloise said. ‘Anne Tisdale is in labor.’

  ‘Is she in danger?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Sheriff Harrison went out there this morning. He didn’t come back.’

  ‘Don’t worry about Ezra.’

  ‘You think he’s something special, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Well, Miss Endicott, I’m beginning to think that myself. I sure hope things stay quiet while they’re gone.’

  ‘I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. I doubt anything unexpected will happen tonight.’

  The door swung open and Andrew and Curly walked in.

  ‘I’m not here to cause any trouble,’ Andrew said.

  ‘You’ve already caused enough trouble,’ Stuart said. ‘Why did you do it?’

  ‘I should have stopped it. I should have at least tried. I knew that boy wasn’t a cattle rustler. He didn’t deserve to hang. Go get Sheriff Harrison.’

  ‘Sheriff Harrison is dead.’

  ‘Dead?’

  ‘You heard me.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘No, of course you don’t.’

  ‘You don’t think I had anything to do with it?’

  ‘He rode out to your place early this morning. He wanted to talk to you about the lynching. He never came back. Somebody shot and killed him.’

  ‘I’ve got blood on my hands. I don’t deny that. But it’s not Harrison’s.’

  ‘Why have you come traipsing in here?’

  ‘I didn’t do anything to stop the lynching. I should have. I’m not going to run.’

  ‘Are you going to tell me who else was involved?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So you want to take all the blame? Is that the way it is?’

  ‘Yes, I reckon so.’

  ‘And you – you look guiltier than him. Did you have anything to do with it?’

  Curly shook his head.

  ‘Andrew, leave your gun belt on the desk.’

  It takes a lot to surprise me, Eloise thought, but I’m surprised. Both Andrew and Curly avoided her eyes.

  Stuart led Andrew through the back door to one of the three cells. He closed the cell door and turned the key in the lock. Andrew sat on the narrow bed and stared at the floor.

  ‘It’s like a tomb back here,’ Andrew said.

  ‘You complaining about our accommodations?’

  ‘No, I’m not complaining. I feel like this is where I should be.’

  ‘You need anything? Any water?’

  ‘No. I’m fine.’

  The cell was hot. No air stirred. Pale moonlight fell through the one barred window. Stuart turned to leave, but he hesitated.

  ‘Killing that farmer in the Two Rivers did something to you, didn’t it?’

  ‘Have you ever killed anyone, Zeke?’

  ‘No. You were eager to. I’m not.’

  Curly walked both horses down the street toward the livery. The storefronts were black. The lights in the saloons were dim. From the shadows a man stepped into the middle of the street.

  ‘What are you doing in town, Rayburn?’

  ‘Oh, I come into town occasionally to see what’s going on, and I just saw something going on. I just don’t know exactly what. I expect you to tell me. What went on in there?’

  ‘In where?’

  ‘Don’t play games with me, Curly. You went in the sheriff’s office with Andrew. Only you came out.’

  ‘Andrew turned himself in.’

  ‘He did what?’

  ‘He’s taking the blame for the lynching.’

  ‘He’s lost his mind. Did he say who else—’

  ‘He’s not interested in naming any names.’

  ‘Well, I’ll be damned. I can imagine what his old man is going to say about this.’

  ‘Zeke Stuart told us Sheriff Harrison is dead. Zeke is the sheriff now. You don’t look too surprised to hear about Harrison.’

  ‘I’m sure Harrison had his enemies. He was a lawman a long time. Are you heading back to the ranch?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What do you mean, no?’

  ‘Just that. I quit.’

  ‘I didn’t take you for a man who quits. What’s the problem? Ain’t we paying you enough money?’

  ‘You’re paying enough.’

  ‘Then what’s eating you?’

  ‘I figure it’s time to move on.’

  ‘Don’t you want the money that’s owed you?’

  ‘Keep the money.’

  ‘Deserting Swearingen isn’t the smartest thing to do. You ought to know that.’

  ‘I ain’t afraid of Swearingen, and I ain’t afraid of you.’

  ‘You’re a fool, Curly Pike. I thought you had more sense. But you’re a fool, a damn fool.’

  ‘Say what you want, Rayburn. I’m through with you.’

  Chapter Eight

  Curly led the horses past Rayburn, past Rayburn’s sudden laughter that vanished just as suddenly, but not past the silence. It clung to the storefronts, to the sidewalks. Down the street stood the gentlemen’s club. He looked up at the second floor windows, as black as the night itself. He knew that eyes were watching – and waiting.

  I need a drink, he thought. He glanced over his shoulder. Rayburn was gone. The Two Rivers beckoned. He tied the horses to the hitching post.

  ‘You two ladies just wait here a bit,’ he said, and he entered the saloon.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you this late,’ Dooley said from behind the bar.

  ‘Well, it’s your lucky night. Where’s the piano player?’

  ‘Things are so quiet he decided to go home. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it this quiet. Whatcha having?’

  ‘Whiskey.’

  ‘Want the bottle?’

  ‘No, just a glass.’

  Curly avoided the floor where the farmer had lain – some of Andrew’s handiwork, he said to himself – and sat at a table in the far corner and gripped the glass tightly in his hands. Keeping the bottle was tempting, but he needed to think. Even without the whiskey little was clear. He realized he had never been the only customer in the Two Rivers before.

  An occasional laugh or giggle came from one of the upstairs rooms. Maybe that’s what I need, he thought, but he quickly dismissed the idea.

  ‘I don’t have a job,’ he said. ‘I got to watch my money.’

  Rose walked down the stairs, the straps of a long faded red dress hanging loosely on her shoulders. She saw Curly and went to the table.

  ‘Cowboy, buy me a drink?’

  He did not look up and she walked to the bar and Dooley poured a glass.

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know. He hasn’t said much since he’s been in here. Watch yourself. I don’t trust him.’

  She took the glass and came back to Curly’s table. Her left cheek bore a purplish bruise.

  ‘You want some company?’

  ‘If you’re talking about the kind of company you provide upstairs, the answer is no. I got to be careful with the few dollars I got left.’

  She pulled back a chair and sat.

  ‘I thought Swearingen pays you men well. Forty a month. That’s what I’ve heard. That’s more than what most cowpokes like you make.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn about his money. I quit today.’

  ‘My, my. You’re a brave man, Curly Pike. Walking away from Swearingen can get a man killed. Just ask John Tisdale.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about John Tisdale.’

  Dooley brought a bottle to the table.

  ‘You sure you don’t want this?’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘Set it down, Dooley,’ she said. ‘He needs it. He took a big step today. He quit his job.’

  ‘You quit Swearingen? If Swearingen doesn’t kill you, Rayburn will. I thought you were smarter than that.’

  �
��Dooley, I ain’t interested in what you think. Take the damn bottle. I don’t want it.’

  ‘Maybe I do,’ Rose said.

  Dooley returned to the bar and picked up a towel to dry a glass. He kept his eyes on Curly. Men like him were unpredictable.

  ‘Where’s your friend Andrew?’ she asked.

  ‘He’s around.’

  ‘In town?’

  ‘Yes, in town.’

  ‘I guess he’s found someone else to comfort him.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘To hell with him.’

  ‘You ought to pay him a visit.’

  ‘Why would I do a thing like that?’

  ‘I’m sure he’d love to see you.’

  ‘And if I get a hankering to see him, where can I find him?’

  ‘Just up the street. The jail.’

  Rose set the glass down.

  ‘Rose, is there trouble?’ Dooley asked, and he reached for the shotgun behind the bar.

  ‘There’s no trouble,’ she said. ‘Why is he in jail?’

  ‘He thinks that’s where he belongs.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I agree. You saw what he did to Sven Burleson.’

  ‘The Swede didn’t give him much choice.’

  ‘Andrew could’ve walked away. He didn’t have to kill that dumb homesteader.’

  ‘There’s no point in going over it again, Rose. Sven is dead. Andrew is in jail, and it has nothing to do with Sven being dead.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Why don’t you come upstairs and explain it to me?’

  ‘Like I said, I don’t have money for that. What’s the matter with you? You deaf?’

  ‘I’ve got something that’s better than whiskey. It’ll make you feel like you’re in a wonderful world. The world we live in, Curly Pike, is not wonderful. What I have upstairs will make you forget all your troubles, all your pain. Later, you’ll thank me.’

  ‘I’m not interested in your dope.’

  ‘Who said anything about dope?’

  ‘I know what you’re doing. Everybody knows. That stuff will kill you.’

  ‘What if it does? What’s it to you?’

  ‘It ain’t nothing to me,’ Curly said. ‘Fat whores are nothing to me.’

  ‘You know what you are, Curly Pike? You’re just a worthless cowboy. You don’t have a home. You’ve probably never had a home. You don’t have anyone who cares whether you live or die. If you’ve got a momma, I bet she never thinks about you. She never wonders where you are. You’ve never amounted to anything, and you never will. You think calling me a whore makes you better than me? I’ve got news, buddy boy. It don’t.’

  ‘You oughtta get into politics, Rose. You’ve got a natural gift for speech-making. If I’m still in Cheyenne, I’ll vote for you. Run for mayor. You’ll make history.’

  He lifted the glass as a toast.

  ‘Here’s to the first fat whore to be elected mayor of Cheyenne.’

  ‘Go to hell, you mangy bastard.’

  Rose stood and grabbed hold of the table to steady herself. A fog descended on the saloon and she was not sure where the stairs were. Somehow her small feet found them, and she climbed. At one moment the stairs veered to the right, the next moment to the left. She looked down at the bar. Nothing but yellow light.

  ‘Rose, you all right?’ Dooley called.

  She clutched the banister and climbed and thought the stairs would never end. Once inside her room, she went to the pine dresser and pulled the top drawer. It was stuck. She pulled harder, and there it was. A Remington rimfire derringer. A gift from Madame Marie in St. Louis long ago. Barrel over barrel. Rose always kept it loaded.

  ‘Hold onto this,’ Madame Marie said. ‘One of these days, if you stay in this business long enough, you’ll need it.’

  Rose did not remember much about Madame Marie. Curly would have thought she was fat too. That much she did remember about Madame Marie. And then she remembered more. She looked sick. Maybe she was.

  Rose held the derringer in the pale light and stared at the shiny barrels.

  ‘Madame Marie said I’ll need you. How right she was.’

  The gunshot shattered the quiet, and Curly nearly jumped out of his chair. Dooley hurried around the corner of the bar and ran up the stairs. The door to Rose’s room was ajar, and he went in.

  ‘Oh, no! Oh, God, no! Rose, no!’

  Curly’s hand trembled. He did not finish his drink.

  Chapter Nine

  Curly Pike stood at the back door of the gentlemen’s club and looked about him, as if someone might be watching. All the other buildings were silent, black. The door opened and Schultz stood in the darkness of the hall. To Curly, Schultz looked old, too old to leave the comforts of the East and to establish a large cattle spread. It was not anything like Swearingen’s spread, but it was big enough. Schultz looked past Curly.

  ‘Don’t be so concerned,’ Curly said. ‘I ain’t been followed.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Hell, yes, I’m sure.’

  ‘The others are upstairs. We’ve been waiting.’

  ‘I wanted to make sure all your hired help went home.’

  ‘No one else is here. You won’t be seen.’

  ‘That’s the way I like it.’

  They walked down the carpeted hall and up the stairs. At the top of the stairs Schultz went to a door and knocked one time. Then he pushed it open and stepped aside so that Curly could enter. A lamp sitting on a table in the far corner did little to dispel the darkness. Palmer sat in a chair near the cold fireplace, and Lansing stood at the window. He turned and nodded briefly and then looked back at the street below. Meeting with Swearingen’s fellow cattle barons made Curly uneasy. He had told Schultz he had not been followed, but was he sure? He had to make it seem he was sure, but Rayburn was in town. You didn’t always see him coming until it was too late.

  ‘So young Andrew Swearingen has turned himself in,’ Lansing said.

  ‘How do you know?’ Curly asked.

  ‘Schultz, get Mr Pike something to drink. I’m sure he’s thirsty.’

  ‘I’ve been drinking already.’

  ‘Then drink some more.’

  Curly sat in a plush chair in the middle of the room and took the whiskey and drank. A little smoother than what he got at the Two Rivers.

  ‘Can we get some more light in here?’

  ‘I can see just fine. After a while, you grow accustomed to the darkness. I heard a pistol shot. It sounded like a derringer.’

  ‘It came from the Two Rivers. Apparently one of the whores got tired of living. Maybe she wasn’t getting enough business.’

  ‘That’s too bad.’

  Lansing left the window and took a chair across from him. Only a few feet separated them. Lansing was much younger than the other two, yet he called the shots. He gave the orders, and the others obeyed.

  ‘Would you like a cigar?’ Lansing asked.

  ‘No.’

  Curly set the glass on the floor.

  ‘I’m sure the new sheriff was surprised to have a prisoner so soon, especially one named Swearingen.’

  ‘He was surprised, all right.’

  ‘Swearingen will come for his son,’ Lansing said. ‘He will ride into town, probably with a few of his men, a few of his hired guns, and Rayburn most certainly will accompany him. Swearingen will attempt to free his son. Cheyenne hasn’t seen such excitement in a long time.’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of this,’ Palmer said. ‘There’s going to be a war out there. We’re going to get caught in the middle. We should get out of town now.’

  ‘Not so fast,’ Lansing said. ‘This is exactly what we want.’

  ‘I don’t follow,’ Schultz said.

  ‘We have an opportunity to let the whole world know who killed John Tisdale. That has been a mystery for much too long. It’s time we shed light on the mystery, and then we simply let the aggrieved parties proceed to sort things out. Meanwhile, we just sit back and watch.’

&
nbsp; ‘Wait a minute,’ Curly said. ‘You said Tisdale’s killer would remain invisible—’

  ‘Don’t worry, Curly,’ Lansing said. ‘Your secret – our secret – is safe. When Swearingen and his men ride into town, I just want you to let it be known to everyone that Rayburn did the infamous deed. I want you to make a big announcement so that everyone hears. That will set everything into motion. And then – it’s important that you remember this, Curly – get out of the way. Bullets, I assure you, will be flying. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt. If things go as I expect, Swearingen will catch one of the bullets. People will say that Rayburn was acting on Swearingen’s orders. I don’t want him to have an opportunity to defend himself in court. He’s too smart. He’ll have a smart attorney. If Ezra McPherson is as good with a pistol as I hear he is, he’ll take care of Swearingen. I love making plans and seeing them work out.’

  Lansing laughed.

  ‘I don’t see any humor,’ Schultz said.

  ‘Nor do I,’ Palmer said.

  ‘Of course not. Both of you are much too serious. You’re too serious about life. You’re too serious about yourselves.’

  Lansing laughed so hard that tears wet his face. He pulled a handkerchief to wipe them, and still he laughed. Schultz and Palmer glanced at each other.

  ‘So you want me to stand between the sheriff and Swearingen’s men and say that Rayburn is the one who killed Tisdale,’ Curly said.

  ‘Don’t stop there,’ Lansing said. ‘You might as well add that he murdered Sheriff Harrison, too. It’s certainly believable. No one will doubt you, Curly. You will be perceived as a hero, a man determined to see that justice is done.’

  ‘You’re crazy,’ Curly said. ‘I didn’t realize it until now, but you’re absolutely crazy. There are institutions for men like you. You should be in one.’

  ‘It’s a crazy world we live in, Curly. I’ve learned to adapt. And, unless I’m mistaken, I believe you’re on the road to learning how to adapt. Men like us will survive. Men like Swearingen and Rayburn – well, they are bound for extinction.’

  ‘You’re wrong, Lansing,’ Curly said. ‘If I’m caught in the middle of a gunfight, I’m bound for extinction. Why the hell don’t I just walk into the jail and tell the sheriff that Rayburn killed Tisdale and Harrison?’