Chapter Five—Homer Kragan’s Redemption

     I arrived at Gail Sanders’ ranch house a little before 5 PM. I wasn’t quite sure why I decided to go. I just…wasn’t sure. But I went. I had no idea what to expect. When I rode up, I saw a fellow with a big, black, bushy mustache standing near the porch, like he was on guard or something.
     “Constance,” I said. “I’m here to see Miss Sanders.”
     He jerked a thumb. “In the house.”
     I opened the front door and went inside. It was a nice home, but simple. Built more for a man, which meant Gail’s father had obviously designed it. There was a small entranceway that opened into a big living area. Plush leather seating—dark brown sofa, love seat, and two chairs, with a bear rug in front of a well-used fireplace. Various western paintings on the wall, a couple of coffee tables and end tables judiciously situated, and two doors leading deeper into the house. A hallway led off to the left. I couldn’t see where, it was at the back of the room.
     I heard some noise in the room off to the right, like pans rattling. “Knock, knock,” I said, loud enough, hopefully, for somebody to hear.
     In a moment, Gail came from that room, wearing an apron over a housedress, brushing a stray strand of hair off her forehead. “Oh. Robert. I didn’t hear you come in. I was just fixing something to eat. It will be ready in a few minutes. Have a seat. Can I get you some coffee?”
     “Uh, well, yes, that would be nice,” I said, a little nonplussed at her attitude. From the way she was acting, we were long time friends and you’d never know she almost ran over me this morning and I just about bit her head off for it.
     But I sat down on the couch and a few moments later she came in with a tray of coffee, milk, and sugar. I preferred milk and sugar when I could get it, so I poured generous amounts of both into my coffee cup.
     “Did you have any trouble finding the place?” she asked me, sitting down on the edge of the love seat for a moment.
     I shook my head. “Nope. Right where you said it was.”
     “Frankly, I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
     “Frankly, I wasn’t, either.”
     “Well, I’m glad you did.”
     “Thank you for inviting me.” Yack, banter, tiptoe.
     “I’ve got some supper on,” she said. “I hope you’re hungry.”
     I scratched my head. “Well, to be honest, I had a pretty big lunch.” I smiled at her. “But I’ll find some room.”
     “Oh, that’s right,” she said. “You don’t have to eat anything if you don’t want to.”
     “Well, I want to eat sometime, so now is as good a time as any.”
     The meal was excellent. It was simple, but to me, that’s the best kind. Steak, fried potatoes, corn, green beans, homemade bread, cold milk—“I knew you liked milk”—and cherry pie—“I knew you liked cherry pie, too.” She was a wonderful cook and I told her so.
     “Thank you,” and she seemed genuinely pleased.
     I was having trouble digesting all of this—and I didn’t mean the food. Of course, I had gotten some no doubt biased information from Kelly about Gail Sanders, but Gail’s nearly running me over had played a part in influencing my judgment as well. She seemed different this evening.
     When we finished, she said, “Let me clear away the table and put the dishes in the tub. You go back to the living room and drink your coffee.”
     “Here, let me help you,” I said. I always helped Julie, not only because I wanted to, but because I just wanted to be with her as much as possible. We always had such a good time together.
     “No, you shoo, I don’t need your help. You’re a man, you’ll probably drop and break something.” She smiled at me.
     I made a face and shrugged and went into the living room. I sat on the couch again, drumming my fingers, waiting, wondering. In a couple of minutes, she came in. “Hang on,” she said, “I’d like to get out of this dress.”
     I nodded.
     She was gone 15 minutes. Julie never took that long to change a dress, but everybody is different, I suppose. When she came back in, I realized why it had taken her so long.
     She was wearing a lovely royal blue dress, long-sleeved, with frills at the wrists and neck. The dress went down to her ankles, and she had a matching pair of shoes. The dress wasn’t form-fitted, but a belt around her waist helped accentuate the nice features of her slender frame. She had also worked on her hair some, and I could smell some perfume from where I was sitting. She was certainly a lovely woman, but my guard went immediately up. Why the big show?
     “Would you like some more coffee or pie?” she asked me.
     “Not at the moment, thank you. I must say, you look lovely.”
     She smiled. “Thank you.”
     She sat down on the other end of the couch. I asked her how she came about having such a beautiful and large ranch.
     “From my father. I’m an only child, and he, mom, and I moved out here when I was about three or four. He and mom worked hard, built up the ranch, made it into the nicest one this side of the river. He taught me well and I don’t want to give any of it up.”
     “When did he die?”
     “About a year ago. Mom had passed on about six months before.” She paused. “I’m having the same problem Jim Perry is having on the other side of the Clearwater.” That was the name of the river, as well as her ranch. “Small time farmers and ranchers moving in, taking slices of my land. Robert, if I let them keep doing it, I won’t have anything left.”
     “Why don’t you file on what you have?”
     “I can, but it would cost a lot of money I don’t have right now.”
     “Gail, you’re going to lose it eventually if you don’t file and pay for it. Kragan will loan you the money, you know that. You just aren’t going to be able to keep these people out forever. There are too many of them, and the law is on their side, and they are going to keep coming. There’s nothing you can do about it.”
     Her lips tightened. “I can protect what my dad worked for. And I’m going to, one way or another. Will you help me?” She moved closer to me. “I mean, what would it cost me? Name your price.”
     I looked at her. I wasn’t sure if she was proposing to me or propositioning me. I didn’t like either option. “Let me tell you a little bit about myself, Gail.” I told her the story about Julie, our ranch, Wilson Brant, the whole nine yards. And then I said, “Can you understand how I might not be terribly sympathetic to you and Jim Perry? I don’t want you to lose what your father worked for, and I realize that you wouldn’t want to, either. That’s perfectly understandable. But this isn’t the old days, Gail. You just can’t do it that way any more.”
     “So you won’t help me?”
     I moved over and sat close to her. We looked at each other in the eyes. I leaned over and kissed her and held it for several seconds. She sighed softly then slowly opened her eyes. “We could do it, Robert. You and I, we could do it. We could build the largest ranch in the whole territory.”
     I pulled away from her. “Who would own it, Gail?”
     She looked at me and blinked. “Well, it’s mine. You understand that, don’t you?”
     I sat back, an annoyed expression on my face. “Do I get to be a hired hand, or do I get to be Mr. Gail Sanders?”
     I stood up. She just watched me. “Gail, please do the right thing.”
     “I’m going to protect my land, Robert.”
     “You can do both, you know.”
     “If I show the slightest bit of weakness, Jim Perry will run roughshod over me. He’ll take it all.”
     “Gail, he can’t take what’s yours if it’s yours legally.” I looked at her. “I’ll help you fight Perry. But I won't help you take land that no longer legally belongs to you.”
     She looked down at her hands. “I want it all, Robert. I want what my father built.” She fixed her eyes on me pleadingly. “Can’t you understand that? I can’t just let other people come in and take it.”
     Like I let Martin Brant have my land…well, did I have any choice? But I was getting more than a little annoyed. “Ok. You hire me. I go in, run off all the riffraff that’s settled on your land—or land you think is yours just because your family has been squatting on it for years. So I run them off. Then what? They aren’t going to stop coming, Gail, they just aren’t, and you can’t run them off indefinitely.”
     She had a very stubborn expression on her face.
     I shook my head. “I give up.” I looked at her, my face hard. “You wanted me to help you keep your land. I’m trying. It’s the only way you’ll be able to keep what you’ve got for the rest of your life.” My tone got very hard. “Eventually somebody is going to come in and file on all your land and you are going to have a whale of a fight keeping any of it.”
     “Are you going to tell Jim Perry the same thing?”
     I looked away for a moment. “No. I’d have to shoot Jim Perry.” I looked back at her. “But I don’t want to shoot you.”
     “Oh, well, thank you. That’s so nice of you.” The sarcasm was as evident in her tone as it was in her words.
     I picked up my hat. “You’re on your own, Gail. Thanks for supper.” I turned to leave.
     But I heard her say, in a soft voice, “You’re different, Robert, and we could have it all. Together. We could have it all.”
     I didn’t turn around. “I don’t want it that way, Gail. I’m just not made like that.” And I walked out of the house.
     I rode back to River Bend, thoughtful. There has to be a way…

     The next morning proved interesting in River Bend; in fact, the whole day was.
     Jim Perry was about to blow a gasket. “He did what?”
     He was in the office of the banker Homer Kragan, who was sweating, and not necessarily because he was fat or hot. “I’m sorry, Mr. Perry. But there was nothing I could do. Constance came in, paid the rest of Atkins’ note, and that was that. He took the title, a receipt—it was all perfectly legal and I had no legal way to stop him.”
     Perry was pacing back and forth. He stopped and glared at Kragan. “Surely there was something you could have done…oh, never mind. It’s done.” He resumed pacing. “Who is that guy? He rides in here and in less than 24 hours, he’s disrupted everything.” That was a bit of an exaggeration, but I had spoiled Perry’s plan somewhat. In less than two weeks, Kragan would have been able to foreclose on Fred Atkins’ land and had them evicted from the property. Perry would have bought up the outstanding notes and owned the land—land he thought was his in the first place. Since Atkins was the de facto leader of the squatters—the only one who would really fight—Perry would be able to easily intimidate the rest of them to leave. A couple of burned houses, a few dead cattle—it wouldn’t take much. But Atkins might be able to put enough backbone in the rest to fight. Jim Perry wasn’t above fighting, of course, but it could be costly. The sheriff would be no problem, but the deputy, Clint Bailor, could raise a stink. And if that gunslinger Constance stays around…
     “There’s only one thing to do,” he told Kragan. “I’m going to have to hit Atkins with everything I’ve got. In the morning. Burn him out. Destroy everything he’s got. He won’t have the money to rebuild and restock. He’ll have to leave. And then, I’ll do the same, if necessary, to another squatter or two and the rest will get the hint and leave, too.”
     “That’s playing kinda rough, Mr. Perry.”
     “They are on my land, I have the right to do what’s necessary to protect my property if they are trespassing. I’ve given them warnings, and I’ve given them plenty of time to leave. They won’t do it, so now they pay the price.”
     Kragan wouldn’t—couldn’t because he didn’t have the strength of character—argue with Jim Perry. He knew those settlers had a legal right to the land they were on, but he wasn’t about to tell the rancher that. So all he said was, “I guess that’s all that’s left.”
     Perry wasn’t listening. He was thinking out loud. “I’ll have to get my boys together today, send ‘em in the crack of dawn tomorrow. I especially want that drifter, Constance. He’s been pushing his weight around ever since he got here and he’s about to ruin the whole thing.” He looked at Kragan. “Once the land is mine again, I may need to restock some of it, so you’ll need to give me a low-interest loan. I’ll pay you back some day.” He wouldn’t and Kragan knew it, but the banker said nothing. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Perry told him, and left the room.
 
     Homer Kragan watched the big rancher leave, a mixed feeling of anger and relief coming over him. Kragan wasn’t really a bad banker; he was just intimidated by Jim Perry and Gail Sanders, like everybody else in town was. He hated himself that he couldn’t stand up to either one, especially Perry. He sat there thinking. Well, maybe there’s a way…
     He rose from his chair and left the bank as quickly as his short, fat legs would allow. He looked both ways when he got outside, and didn’t see Jim Perry. He went across the street to the hotel, hoping he wouldn’t be too late.
     He walked up to the clerk and said, “Is Mr. Constance still here?”
     “In the restaurant.”
     Kragan nodded and went into the hotel’s dining room. He saw me sitting alone, eating breakfast. He came over to me. I looked up at him, scrutinizing him up and down. Man, he’s ugly…
     “May I talk to you for a few minutes, Mr. Constance?” Kragan asked, more than a little intimidated by a man he thought was a gunslinger.
     I responded, “Sure, sit down.”
     “Thank you,” and Kragan sat opposite me and heaved a huge sigh. “Coffee,” he said when the waitress came up. He turned his attention to me. “I’m glad you’re still in town. I was hoping to catch you.”
     I shrugged. “Everybody has to be somewhere. What can I do for you?”
     “Did you get the title of Mr. Atkins’ land to him yesterday?”
     “I had the postmaster deliver it. I’m assuming he got it.”
     Kragan nodded. “Mr. Constance, I think you should know—or perhaps better, Mr. Atkins should know—that Jim Perry is getting his men together and they are going to attack the FR Ranch tomorrow.” “FR” was the name Atkins had given to his ranch. “At sunup. I…imagine that Mr. Atkins would probably appreciate having that information. Once he destroys Atkins, Perry believes that all opposition to him from the other ranchers will die and they will simply leave the valley.”
     My eyes narrowed. “Yes, that is information that Fred Atkins would probably like to have.”
     “Will you see to it that he gets it?”
     I nodded. “Actually, I was planning on heading out there right after breakfast.”
     “I think we would all appreciate it if you would stay and help…bring some peace and stability to our valley.”
     I sat back, a little bamboozled. “Why are you telling me this, Mr. Kragan? No offense, but the scuttlebutt I heard is that you are pretty much in the pocket of Jim Perry.”
     Kragan accepted his coffee, and took a sip. Without looking at me, he said, “That is why I am telling you, Mr. Constance. Jim Perry has dominated this valley for long enough. If there was some way we could break up his land—and that of Gail Sanders—hundreds of settlers could move into this valley. This town would boom. But Perry and the Sanders have had a stranglehold here and, quite frankly, have everyone, including me, thoroughly cowed and intimidated. I hate to admit that, of course, but it’s the truth. Perhaps you…can find some way to stop him. Them.”
     “I don’t know how, Mr. Kragan, and it’s not my fight, but I will certainly warn Fred Atkins and the valley ranchers. Stopping Jim Perry and Gail Sanders is not going to be easy.”
     “Well, if you can simply thwart the raid tomorrow, that will help. But do be warned as well—Perry wants you out of the way, too. After what you did yesterday—not just the Atkins’ payment, but the way you handled Jake Barton and Gail Sanders—I think he definitely perceives you as a threat.” He paused. “And a lot of people in this town perceive you as a hope.”
     I grunted. “If you people want a savior, turn to Jesus.”
     Kragan said delicately, “While our Lord may have certain qualities and abilities that we all need, I’m not sure He will be immediately available to assist us in this cause.”
     I grunted again. “Meaning He doesn’t carry a six-gun on his hip.”
     Kragan smiled and spread his hands expansively.
     “Is there anything else, Mr. Kragan?”
     “No, I suppose not.” He hesitated, “Mr. Constance, we didn’t get off on a very good footing yesterday and I will accept the blame for that. But I hope you will accept the information I have provided in good faith. I don’t want to see anyone hurt and it would be nice if, in some way, Jim Perry could be taken down a notch.”
     And Kragan’s bank would make a killing if the Clearwater Valley became loaded with settlers. But I didn’t begrudge a man a profit—as long as it was honest. “I’ll warn Fred Atkins,” I said to him, standing up. “Beyond that, I make no promises.”
     He stood up as well. “I appreciate your assistance in this matter.”
     I nodded. “It’s very good of you to warn the ranchers, Mr. Kragan. I hope it all works out for the best.”
     “Thank you.”
     Then I looked at him closely. “But I’ll tell you something else. If you’re lying to me about the raid tomorrow, I’ll come back here and kill you. Do you understand?”
     He swallowed. “I’m telling you the truth. I promise.”
     I nodded. I believed him. “Ok. This is between you and me, got it?”
     He tried to smile. “Mum’s the word.”
     I didn’t wait for him to waddle along beside me. I left the restaurant, went up to my room and got my gear, and headed to the stable to get Ol’ Paint. I had read Homer Kragan wrong and I was glad I had. But the main thing on my mind was Jim Perry. And Fred and Kelly Atkins. And all the valley ranchers. The latter were good people who stood to lose everything because of a greedy, power hungry mobster.
     Been there, done that…I’m not going to run this time…And I gave myself a wry grin. And it’s not even my fight…