Town Tamers (15 page)

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Authors: David Robbins

Tags: #Fiction, #Westerns, #General, #Historical

BOOK: Town Tamers
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42

“A
demon, ma’am?” If Asa needed proof that the mayor was right about Cecilia Preston, there it was.

“You think I’m crazy?” Cecilia closed the door and threw the bolt. “But I assure you I’m not. Arthur Studevant is the most wicked man alive.”

“If you say so,” Asa said. His anger was fading. How could he stay mad at a woman who clearly had lost a few bales out of her hay wagon?

“Come with me, Mr. Delaware. All I ask is an hour of your time to convince you. If I can’t, off you go, and no hard feelings.”

“And if you do convince me?” Asa humored her.

“I hire you as I’ve intended all along.”


You
hire me?”

“You’ve met our sorry excuse for a mayor. You don’t expect him to do it, do you?” She moved down the hall, her cane
tap-tap-tap
ping in front of her. “I was serious about the five thousand. If you take the job, I’ll pay you out of my own pocket.”

“You will?”

“I just said it, didn’t I?”

Asa didn’t know what to make of her. One minute she was talking about demons, the next she acted perfectly reasonable. He decided it wouldn’t hurt to hear her out. And if, as he reckoned, he’d turn her down, he might be able to play on her conscience and have her reimburse him for the train tickets. It was the least she could do given that she’d duped him.

The shadowed hall brought them to a sitting room where a single lamp glowed. The room had the same musty smell as everything else. She indicated a sofa with her cane. “Have a seat while I prepare refreshment. Would you like coffee or tea?”

“I’d like to hear you explain yourself,” Asa said. “I’m not thirsty at the moment.”

“Very well.” Cecilia clomped to a settee across from him and eased down. Folding her hands on top of the cane, she leaned on it. “Where to begin?”

“That demon business would do.”

“No,” Cecilia said. “I should go back to when it started. To when Arthur Studevant bought the mine from Lester Ordville.”

“You’ve met him? Studevant, I mean?”

“I haven’t, no. And I hope to God I never do. He’d try to use his demon wiles on me.”

Asa sighed.

“I heard that,” Cecilia said.

“Get on with it.”

Cecilia colored. “Very well. As I was saying, Studevant bought the mine and brought in hundreds of new workers. He bought up all the property he could, too, and built saloons and bawdy houses and had women brought in from all over.”

“I don’t hear the demon part yet.”

“Be patient, Mr. Delaware. I’m getting to that.” Cecilia gazed at a curtain-covered window. “Studevant backed Tom Oliver for mayor. But the man running against Oliver was well-liked, and Oliver should have lost. But guess what. He won. Then Studevant backed a man for town marshal, and although there were two others in the running, guess what. Studevant’s man won.”

“Rich people meddle in politics all the time,” Asa said.

“True, true,” Cecilia agreed. “But not to the extent Studevant has. You see, it’s not that he’s civic minded. Or that he’s more law-abiding than the next person. He did all that, and more, so he could control the town lock, stock, and everything.”

“And that’s demonic?” Asa came close to laughing.

“You’re not listening. Arthur Studevant has set himself up as God. No one can do anything in this town without his say-so. The few people who spoke out against him have been silenced or left or—”

“You haven’t,” Asa cut her off.

“He figures he doesn’t need to bother, that no one will believe me. I’m just that crazy woman who lives all alone and talks to herself.”

“Miss Preston,” Asa began.

“I’m still not finished. I’d like to give you a list. It’s people you need to talk to. People who can tell you what Studevant is really like. Go see them and hear their stories and then come back and give me your decision.”

“I’d just as soon be on the next stage to Denver,” Asa said, “but I’ll do it on one condition.”

“Name it.”

“That if I turn you down, you pay me for my time and trouble.”

Cecilia surprised him by saying, “That’s only fair. Would two hundred dollars do?”

“That’s more than enough.”

“Then we are in agreement. Let me fetch that list.” Bracing herself on the cane, she slowly stood and hobbled off.

Asa took his watch from his vest. It wasn’t quite two o’clock. He seemed to recollect that a train to Denver left at six. Plenty of time for him to pay visits to whomever the old woman wanted him to see, get back to get his money, and then collect Byron and Noona and be on the train before it pulled out of the station.

He vowed to never let something like this happen again. A new rule was called for: Check on everyone who wanted to hire him.

In some instances that wouldn’t be practical, like in towns that didn’t have a telegraph office. But most places it would, and save him a lot of boot leather and aggravation.

The tap of her cane let him know she was coming back. She had a folded sheet of paper, which she tossed to him and he easily caught.

“Seven names?” It was more than he’d figured on. His plan to leave by six might not pan out. “I can’t get to all of these today, can I?”

“Probably not. They’re scattered all over Ordville. And I need to let them know you’re paying them a visit. Do it tomorrow.”

“Lady,” Asa said, and stopped. He would be damned if he’d waste an entire day hunting all over for seven people who were likely as loco as she was.

“Every one of them is important, or I wouldn’t ask,” Cecilia said. “If you’re the honorable man I think you are, you’ll do it. When you’ve heard them out, you’ll understand. And you’ll want to kill Arthur Studevant as much as I do.”

“I doubt that’s possible,” Asa said.

4
3

A
sa shook his head in annoyance as he wound down the carriageway to the iron gate. If he’d ever had a more peculiar day in his whole life, he couldn’t recollect it.

The old woman really believed Arthur Studevant was some sort of demon. It was ridiculous.

Asa went out the gate and turned to head for the train station as a man with a badge stepped from the shadows and barred his way.

“Been looking for you,” the lawman said.

Asa stopped. He was good at reading people. He had to be, in his line of work, or he wouldn’t stay alive long. And his initial read of the man in front of him wasn’t favorable. “Oh?”

The lawman was of middle height, middle build, and middle just about everything. He had little chin, full cheeks, and eyes that made Asa think of the black-footed ferrets that preyed on prairie dogs. He wore a bowler and a suit with a vest. Pinned to the vest was a badge twice as big as any Asa ever wore. Engraved on it in big letters was T
OWN
M
ARSHAL
. He wore a gun belt, but his jacket was over his holster and Asa couldn’t see what model his revolver was. “I’m Marshal Pollard.”

“Hard to miss you’re a law dog,” Asa said.

“This?” Marshal Pollard said, and tapped his badge. “It helps with drunks who can’t hardly see, and so when folks see me coming, they know who I am.”

Asa secretly wondered if the oversized badge didn’t match the man’s opinion of himself. But he kept that to himself. “This a social call?”

“Mayor Oliver asked me to look you up.”

“I make him mad?”

“He wanted me to set you straight on a few things.”

“Well, now,” Asa said.

Marshal Pollard gazed up the hill through the trees at the mansion. “I take it you’ve been talking to Cecilia Preston?”

“The mayor told you I was coming to see her,” Asa reckoned.

“That’s why I was waiting,” Pollard said. He moved his arm so his jacket moved, and now Asa could see a pearl-handled Smith & Wesson high on the lawman’s hip.

“What do I need to be set straight on?”

“I’ll get right to it,” Pollard said. “I know who you are. I know you used to be a lawman, so you rate a courtesy I wouldn’t give others.”

“Oh?”

“You’ve seen the town?”

“I’ve walked over a good bit of it.”

“Then you know it doesn’t need taming. Did you see anyone wearing a firearm?”

“The only one I’ve seen is on you.”

“Did you see any hard cases? Anyone at all who struck you as living on the shifty side of the law?”

“I did not.”

Marshal Pollard nodded. “And you never will. I run a tight town, Delaware. Arthur Studevant likes things neat and tidy, and that includes Ordville.”

“I’ve heard he backed you to wear that star.”

Pollard jerked a thumb at the mansion. “From her? Yes, he brought me in from Wyoming. I was marshal of a town called Benton.”

Asa found that interesting. Benton had started as a tent city for workers when the rail line was being laid along the foothills. Where most tent cities folded away once the rails were in, Benton sprouted into a town thanks to nearby mineral springs. Popular as a cure for every ailment under the sun, the mineral springs drew folks from all over, particularly the well-to-do.

“Mr. Studevant owns a number of businesses in Benton,” Pollard was saying. “I did the same for him there as I’m doing here.”

“You run a town the way he likes,” Asa said.

“Exactly. So let me make it clear. Ordville doesn’t have any use for you. We have law and order here.” Pollard tapped his badge again. “And we don’t abide troublemakers.”

“The last thing I’d ever want to do,” Asa said, “is make trouble.”

“Good to hear that. I don’t know what nonsense that crazy woman has been filling your head with, but she’s had it in for Mr. Studevant for a long while now. Did she tell you about her husband, about how she blames Studevant for his death?”

“No.”

“Ask her. It will explain everything.” Pollard looked at the mansion once more. “Damned crazy woman.” He consulted a pocket watch and frowned. “I have somewhere to be, so there’s only one thing more to say.” He locked his ferret eyes on Asa. “It would please me greatly if you don’t stick around.”

“I was thinking of leaving anyway,” Asa said.

“The next train out would be best.”

“I will if I can.”

Marshal Pollard smiled, but there wasn’t any warmth to it. “Nice making your acquaintance.” He touched the brim of his derby and headed down the hill.

“Hmmmm,” Asa said.

44

A
djacent to the train station was a small restaurant called the Motherlode. Asa had noticed it when they got off the train. He thought it was a peculiar name for an eatery, but it was as good a place as any to meet at six o’clock that evening with his son and daughter.

At quarter to six he was at a booth with his back to the wall so he could see the door and windows. His carpetbag was under the table close to his feet and the shotgun case was in his lap.

Asa sipped the coffee he’d asked for and gazed about him. The restaurant was the same as the rest of Ordville, clean, tidy, and well-run.

A tiny bell over the door tinkled, and in came Noona. Her rifle case was across her shoulder. She set down her bag, leaned the Spencer against the booth, and slid in.

“How did it go?” Asa asked.

“It’s been some day, Pa.”

“Same here.”

The waitress came and Noona asked if they had any juice. The waitress said yes, they had some orange juice left, squeezed fresh that morning.

“You and your juice,” Asa said when the waitress brought the glass. “You’ve liked it since you were knee-high to a grasshopper.”

Noona drank, smiled, and said, “Ahhhh.”

“We’ll wait for your brother and then share what we’ve learned,” Asa said.

“What I’ve learned,” Noona said, “is that this town isn’t like anywhere we’ve ever been.”

“Ain’t it, though?” Asa said.

“Part of me felt out of place. There I was, toting a rifle around, and there wasn’t another living soul with a gun. It was spooky.”

“I met one with a gun,” Asa said. “The town law dog. You watch out for him, you hear?”

“Uh-oh,” Noona said. “Is he a bad man with a badge?”

“I’m not sure what he is yet,” Asa said, “but he raised my hackles.”

They sat in silence for a while, both of them sipping and observing the people who came and went.

“I wonder what’s keeping that brother of mine,” Noona remarked. “He’s usually punctual.”

Asa grunted. He’d been watching out the front window and saw a man go by from right to left. Not two minutes ago the same man had gone by from left to right—a tall fellow with a pockmarked face and a hooked nose in the usual derby and suit who peered intently into the restaurant both times. This time, Asa caught sight of a bulge on his hip, and when the man turned to peer in, a flash of tin on his vest. “I’ll be damned.”

Noona started to swivel so she could see out the window.

“Don’t,” Asa said. “He’ll know we know he’s been shadowing me.”

“Who has?”

“I believe it’s a deputy.” Asa came to the obvious conclusion. “Sicced on me by Marshal Pollard.”

“This Pollard doesn’t cotton to town tamers?”

“He thinks town tamers and troublemakers are one and the same.”

Noona shrugged. “We’ve had law wary of us before.”

“He’d like if I left as soon as I could.”

“Now that’s wary,” Noona said.

The bell tinkled and in came Byron. He smiled as he came over and was still smiling as he sat next to his sister. “Sorry,” he said.

“You’re smiling, and you’re sorry,” Asa said. “Who are you, and where’s my real son?”

“Pa,” Noona said.

“That’s all right,” Byron said. “He can poke fun if he wants. I’m immune to his barbs.”

“Since when?” Noona asked.

“We’ll take turns.” Asa got them on track. “Girl, you go first. Did you find a saloon to work at?” He didn’t mention that their coming to Ordville was all for naught and they’d likely be gone within twenty-four hours.

“I did not,” Noona said. “But I might have other work.”

“As an escort?” Asa said when she finished her account. “Never heard of such a thing. And this escort service is run by Studevant like he runs most everything else?” He remembered Cecilia’s words: “lock, stock, and everything.”

“I didn’t know what to do, so I put him off,” Noona said. “Told him I’d think it over and get back to him in a day or two.”

“How about you?” Asa asked Byron.

“I have a job.”

“Which saloon?”

“Someplace different.”

“Different how?” Asa wanted to know, and sat speechless as Byron related his day’s events. “A house of poetry? I’ve never heard of the like.”

“I’ve discovered heaven on earth,” Byron said. His smile had become a permanent fixture.

“You were supposed to apply at a saloon,” Asa reminded him, “so you can find out about the bad men in these parts. Or are all the local variety poets?”

Noona laughed. “Oh, Pa.”

“You should see it,” Byron said. “It’s like a dream come true.”

“How about you, Pa?” Noona asked. “What did you find out?”

Asa left nothing out, from his meeting with the mayor to his talk with Cecilia Preston and the tin star.

“So there’s no taming to do?” Noona said. “It was a trick on her part.”

“How about that,” Byron said. “The great Town Tamer, Asa Delaware, played for a fool by an old biddy who isn’t in her right mind.”

“I’d be careful with talk like that,” Asa said. “Anyone else would be eating teeth right now.”

“So when do we head back to Texas?” Noona was quick to divert them.

“I promised that old biddy, as your brother calls her, that I’d talk to some folks tomorrow. After, she’s to pay me two hundred dollars.”

“So tomorrow night or the morning after?”

“More likely the morning,” Asa calculated. He had seven people to visit, and they were spread all over town. He’d be lucky to be done by late afternoon. “That’s when we’ll go.”

“No,” Byron said.

Asa and Noona looked at him and Noona asked, “You’d like to stay longer?”

“I’d like not to leave.” Byron squared his shoulders and sucked in a breath. “I know I said I’d do one last job and then head east. But that was before Ordville. Why go east when everything I want is right here?”

“You’ve been in this town less than a day,” Asa said.

“So? I could stay a week or a month and my mind wouldn’t change. You’ve seen this place, Pa.” And for once, Byron didn’t exaggerate the “Pa” with a hillbilly twang. “It’s incredible. The theaters, the opera house.”

“The Poetry House,” Asa said.

“That most of all. I doubt there are more than two or three in the whole country.” Byron shook his head. “No. I’m sorry. I’m staying. There won’t be any last hurrah. It will just be Noona and you from now on. Me, I’m starting a whole new life.” And with that, he picked up his rifle case and bag and walked out.

“Well, damn,” Asa said.

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